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atlafan · 4 years

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Office Neighbors - Part Eight

a/n: a very Andy heavy part, not proofread (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!)

warnings: slight angst, fluff, and smut

words: 15K

masterpost

“I’m not gonna let you talk to her until you both settle down!” Harry shouts at his mother and sister.

“We’re settled, just dial the number!” Anne shouts back.

“Yeah, the TV can only occupy all the kids for so long.” Gemma says. “She’s probably waiting as it is.”

Harry was ready to throw up. He couldn’t remember the last time he introduced a woman to his family, and it wouldn’t even be a proper introduction since it was over FaceTime.

“Okay, okay, Christ.” He swipes your contact. “Just let me say hi to her first before you two jump in.”

You answer after a moment, you were sitting up on your bed at Phil and Julian’s. You made sure your hair and makeup were done, and your headphones were in, just in case there were wandering ears.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry smiles warmly.

“Hey! How’s everything going?”

“Good! Everyone’s good. We all decorated my sister’s tree last night.”

“Oh, fun! Phil made sweet potato pancakes they were so good.”

“That’s great.” He smiles.

“Yeah.” You smile.

You see a hand smack Harry’s shoulder and you suck your lips into your mouth to keep from laughing.

“Right, well, my mum and sister are here…” He side eyes Gemma. “Would you like to say hello?”

“I would.” You nod. It was the whole point of the FaceTime, but you thought it was sweet he was being so formal. Both Anne and Gemma come into view and smile. “Hello! It’s nice to sort of meet you both.” You chuckle.

“Same to you, dear!” Anne says brightly. “Oh, Harry, she’s lovely.” She whispers, but you hear her.

“Yeah, I know it’s not the same as in person, but this works.” Gemma says. “Hope we didn’t wake you up too early for this…”

“Not at all! I was up anyways getting some work done. How’s the weather over there? It flurried a bit, but it hasn’t been too bad.”

“Freezing rain here, I’m afraid.” Harry says.

“Is that Y/N? Hi, Y/N!” Andy says as he comes into the kitchen where the meeting was occurring.

“Andy.” Harry sighs. “You’re supposed to be-“

“Oh, just give the damn phone to me. You know her plenty, Mum and I don’t, so shoo!” Gemma snatches the phone from Harry, and Anne follows her into the adjacent room.

“Well…isn’t that just perfect.” Harry says to Andy.

“Auntie Gem told me to do it, sorry.” Andy giggles and runs out of the room while Harry chases him.

“Sorry about that, things can get a little hectic around here.” Anne laughs.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You chuckle.

“So, where are you this week?” Gemma asks.

“I’m staying at my brother’s place in Boston. I’ll be here until the day after New Year’s. My friends and I usually get together for the fireworks and all that.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Anne says. “I can’t remember the last time I actually stayed up late enough to watch the ball drop.” She laughs. “I’m usually home watching all the kids while Harry and Gemma go out.”

“Yeah, we have a couple of parties of our own to go to. Lots of friends for Harry to see. He’s quite popular amongst our group.”

“That’s nice, you share a lot of the same friends?”

“Oh, sure.” Gemma shrugs. “We’re only a couple of years apart in age, and we worked at the same bakery growing up, sort of attached at the hip.”

“You two were awfully cute. They’d even willingly wear matching Halloween costumes.” Anne says. “Remember the year you were Mario and he was Princess Peach?”

“Now that’s something I’d love to see.” You say.

“Okay!” Harry bolts into the room and snatches his phone. “Think you’ve all chatted long enough.”

“You got an entire meal with her family, I think it’s only fair-“

“Mum! Lizzy won’t stop touching me!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Seems like your kids need you.” Harry sneers.

“Wonderful, three brats.” She rolls her eyes. “It was nice chatting, Y/N.” Gemma says as she leaves the room the scope out the scene.

“I better go help her.” Anne chuckles as follows out as well.

“So…Princess Peach, huh? You don’t still happen to have that costume do you? I bet you look lovely in a dress.”

“I was five.” Harry rolls his eyes. “And you’re right, I look exceptional in a dress.”

“They’re very nice, your mum and sister. Um…is Gemma not married, or…?”

“She’s widowed, unfortunately.” Harry whispers. “That’s why my mum lives with her, she needed help with her kids and I obviously wasn’t around. It sucked, he had cancer.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a few years, she’s doing much better, but she doesn’t date. She’s tried, but it’s too much.”

“I don’t blame her.”

“Did you have a nice Hanukkah with your family?”

“I did! I refereed a game of dreidel for my younger cousins, it was pretty funny.”

“You really like kids, don’t you?”

“I love kids.” You blush.

“Suppose that’s why you’re so good with them then, huh?” He was blushing too, but he was giving you that toothy smile you loved so much.

“I miss you, Harry.”

“I miss you too.”

“Dad…you better get in there…Lizzy and Ritchie have started to wrestle.”

“Better go pry them apart.” Harry chuckles. “I’ll talk to you soon, love you.”

“Love you too, bye Andy!”

You sigh as you hang up. You knew you’d physically get meet everyone someday so it would be less chaotic, but it was nice to meet them nonetheless.

On New Year’s Eve you throw on a black turtleneck bodysuit and a pair of jeans with some booties. You head out with Phil and Julian once they’re both home from work to meet your other friends at the bar. You send Harry a quick selfie, wanting to still look cute before you inevitably got sweaty and drunk. It was already the New Year in London, and Harry had sent you a selfie before he went out. It was sweet.

“Y/N!” Your best friend Nora squeals as soon as you see her.

“Hey!” You squeal back and hug her.

“It’s so good to see you, I’m so glad we could get together for this.”

“Same here, I know hard it is for you to get away…”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Wouldn’t miss a New Year’s in Boston. Hi Phil, hi, Julian.”

“Hi, Nora.” Phil smiles. “Y/N, we’re gonna go get a booth.”

“Okay, I think I’ll hang by the bar for bit with the crew.”

You say hello to your other friends: Claudia, Mark, and Darcy.

“Okay, so, where’s your man? We’ve been dying to meet him.” Mark says.

“He’s in London with his family.” You shrug. “You’ll meet him eventually, I promise.”

“Too bad, Nora says he’s quite the hunk.” Claudia says.

You side eye your friend as she laughs.

“You send me the best pictures, how could I not share?”

“His tattoos are really interesting.” Darcy says. “Never thought you’d be into a guy so inked up.”

“Neither did I, but I like them a lot.” You bite the rim of your cup and smile.

“I feel like it’s been forever since you’ve been serious with someone.” Mark says. “What’s it about this one?”

“Yeah, doesn’t he have a kid?” Claudia asks.

“He does…and I care a lot about him. His name is Andy, and he’ll be twelve in May.”

“Twelve?!” They all exclaim.

“How old is this guy?” Darcy asks.

“He’ll be thirty-three at the beginning of February. Would you all calm down? He had his son young, it is what it is.” You shrug.

“I knew you wanted to be a mom, but shit.” Nora laughs. “Whatever, you’re happy, right?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Now, I’m much more interested to hear how your love life is going, Mark.”

“Single and ready to find some New Year’s dick tonight.”

You all burst into laughter and clink your glasses. You all end up bar hopping a bit, saying goodbye to your brother and letting him know you’ll be back whenever, which he has no problem with. You get pretty sloshed with your friends, and you ended up at a dance club. You were having an incredible time. The club had plenty of TV’s going so a little before midnight, you all huddle together to watch the ball drop. You all kiss each other’s cheeks, it was cute. You feel your phone buzzing, and it’s a FaceTime request from Harry.

“Hello?!” You shout.

“Happy New Year!” He smiles. You nearly melt. He was still in bed, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses yet, and his hair was all floppy. “Where are you?”

“At a club, and-“

“Is that him?!” Nora shouts and goes behind your shoulder. “Oooo, look at him! Hiya hot stuff!”

“Isn’t it, like, really early in London?” Claudia slurs to Darcy.

“Yeah, babe, isn’t it, like, six in the morning?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I was getting up anyways, and I wanted to call.”

“Aww.” You and your friends swoon.

“Well…I can see you’re busy, so I’ll let you go.”

“Okay! Happy New Year, love you!” You hang up before he can say it back.

“Damn, Y/N, he’s handsome.” Mark says.

“Mhm, and he’s allll mine.” You giggle with your friends.

“There’s my baby!” Paige exclaims as Andy gets off the plane. She throws her arms around him and kisses him. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah! Grammy and Auntie Gem say hi.” He holds her hand as they make their way to baggage.

“Oh, that’s nice of them. You had fin with Lizzy and Ritchie?”

“Yeah, we got to play the new game Y/N got me.”

“What game is that?”

“What Do You Meme, it’s a lot of fun.”

“Well, that was very nice of her to get that for you. Seemed like you got a lot of other nice gifts from when we spoke on Christmas.”

“Mhm, and Grammy got me a ton of new clothes. She got me those sneakers I’ve been wanting.”

“She sure has an eye for fashion, huh?” She chuckles. “So, we’re going to grab your bag and then Noah and Rachel are waiting in the car. Are you too tired for lunch?”

“No, I slept pretty well on the plane. One of the attendants sat with me and held my hand when we took off.”

“I love it when they do that for you, that’s so nice.”

“Gram’s not coming for lunch?”

“No, she ended up going to New York with Auntie Allie for New Year’s…she’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Alright, it’ll be nice then, just the four of us.”

“Yeah, it will. Everyone missed you, honey.”

Andy actually enjoys his lunch with everyone. He and Rachel talk about their new gifts. It warmed Paige’s heart to being having some real family time. The few days Andy is home is wonderful, and come Sunday, you show up to pick Andy up. You’d be having brunch with Paige before taking Andy back to Harry’s. You made sure to stock the fridge with all his favorites already. You take a deep breath, and ring the bell. After a couple of moment, Paige answers the door.

“Y/N!” She says brightly. “Come on in, you must be freezing.”

“Hi, thanks.” You smile and enter the home. She takes your coat and hangs it up. It was oddly quiet. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, well, my sister came back with my mom late last night, so they’re out with Andy now having a brunch of their own, and Rachel has Hebrew school on Sunday mornings, and they usually get lunch together after that. So it’s just us two, I’ve got quite the spread for us, come into the kitchen.”

She really did have quite the spread. Bagels, cream cheese, eggs, juice, and fruit.

“Wow, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Oh, sure I did. Would you like some coffee?”

“That’d be great, thank you.”

She nods and gestures for you to sit while she gets the coffee.

“I’m so glad we could finally get together to do this. I feel like I know you, but don’t at the same time.” She sips her coffee and makes up a plate, as do you. “Did you have a nice holiday?”

“I did, yeah, thank you. Did you?”

“As good as it could have been, I suppose.” She nods. “It was weird without my dad, but that’s life.” She shrugs.

“I’m so sorry, it must have been difficult.”

“It was weird, all of the fun helped distract us, but I know it was really hard for my mother. The first holidays without them are always the hardest.” You nod at her. “Anyways, I…oh, that’s a lovely necklace.” She points to your palm tree, and you clutch at it.

“Thank you, um, Harry got it for me.” You swallow.

“This doesn’t need to be weird, Y/N.” She smirks. “You’re in his life, which means you’re in my son’s life, and I just wanna know more about you, that’s all. This isn’t a one way street either, if there’s anything you’d like to know about me I’d be happy to answer.”

“I know…I have to admit, I was a little nervous to be one on one with you. I hope you know, I care a lot about Andy.”

“No need to be nervous. Harry trusts you, so I do too.” She shrugs. “He’s always been such a great judge in character.”

“Can I ask…how did you two meet?”

“Oh, god, years ago when we were in college. He came to our school when he was a sophomore, and joined our group. I was dating this other guy at the time, but we became fast friends. He was always so sweet. The other guy and I broke up eventually, and then I can’t quite recall what it was, but long story short Harry and I got together. I graduated a year ahead of him, but we made it work.”

“And Andy was an accident?”

“He certainly wasn’t planned.” She laughs. “I’ll spare you the details, but we were shocked to say the least when we found out. I was already working at the law office, thank god, so I had some decent benefits and maternity leave and all that.”

“Were you scared being so young?”

“A little…I was more so worried at the time about being so far away from Harry. I had started working in this area, so we were long distance. I was grateful he found a grad program in the area that worked for him. I sort of felt guilty for making him grow up so fast, but I got over it. He really stepped up.”

“He’s a great dad.”

“He really is! He was a natural right away.”

“And…it just didn’t work out between you two?”

“I was sort of stubborn, and a little resentful. He was getting to work on his career, and I felt like I was in a rut. My parents were getting to me…and…one morning I woke up and looked at him and realized I just wasn’t in love. When we were dating in school it was just fun, you know? I hadn’t really been given the chance to see if I wanted something future wise with him. For all I knew, he could have decided to go back to London, you know? It was awful because we were living together, and we had Andy, and I just couldn’t figure out how to end it, and then…well, he asked me to marry him, and that was when I knew it had to be over, so I told him no and we broke up. I felt sick over it because I knew I hurt him.”

You blink as you take all of the information in. Sometimes people just weren’t compatible, and that was okay, and maybe Harry had been looking at things with rose colored glasses.

“His parents were divorced growing up, so I think he thought getting married would make everything better. We fought a lot, things just stopped being fun.” She shrugs. “But that was all a long time ago, and we worked on things for Andy’s sake, and I’d like to think we’re doing right by him now. He raves about you, they both do, and it makes me so happy to hear it.”

“You really want what’s best for Harry, huh?”

“I do.” She nods. “And for my son, obviously. I know at times it may seem weird that Harry and I are sort of close…especially after my father died, but it’s really not always like that. It’s not like we text or talk every day. We only meet up when we absolutely have to. I think sometimes when we see each other more we fall into that old patter of friendship, but it doesn’t go further than that, I hope you can see that. I love Noah, I really feel like he’s the person I’m supposed to be with.”

“I…feel that way about Harry.” You mutter and sip your coffee, but you don’t miss her smile.

“That makes me so happy to hear, you have no idea.” She gives your hand a squeeze. “So, tell me, you’re working on your PhD, and then what?”

“Hopefully become a full professor at some point. I really like working at the university, so I won’t be going anywhere once I finish.”

“I just hope they give you a pay bump afterwards. Harry had to fight for his, he honestly almost left when they said no, but they didn’t want to lose him.”

“Right.”

“You’re just on a yearly contract, right?”

“Yeah, I can’t go for tenure until I have my doctorate.”

“Do you have anything planned for while you’re with Andy?”

“I have a couple of craft ideas, yeah. You’re not mad he wanted to stay with me?”

“No, I get it. He was so annoyed last year when he had to get up earlier for school and all that. Plus…right now he still enjoys seeing my mother, my biggest fear is that if he’s here a lot he may not like the visits as much. She’s sweet on him now, but she has this way of saying these little things that eventually just get under your skin.”

“God, I’m so sorry, that must be so difficult.”

“I’m just glad she has her own section of the house to putter around in.”

“Would she ever go back to living in a condo or anything? Maybe there’s some type of old folks community she could go to.”

“They were living in one before, but she really doesn’t want to live alone, and I don’t blame her. As shrill as she can be, I know she likes being around people.” She sighs. “Look, I guess I just wanted to say that I’m glad Harry has you, and I’m glad Andy has you too. Becoming a blended family isn’t easy, and I’m sure Harry having to watch me move on wasn’t easy either. He had started talking about you here and there, his new office neighbor, and how funny she was.” Paige grins. “I knew right away he had a little crush on you. I’d never seen him play it so cool because I’ve only ever known him as a flirt, but I know it’s different when you work with someone.”

“Andy told me something similar. God, how embarrassing for him to be gushing about me.” You chuckle.

“No, it was so sweet! I remember when he asked if he could bring a friend to Andy’s party, as if he needed my permission. We were very excited to meet you. I’m glad things have been going so well for you two.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.”

“You and I don’t need to be best friends or anything, but I definitely want us to be friendly, you know? I look at Noah and Harry, and I know there are times they have their own squabbles, but it’s nice they get along so well. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. I definitely don’t feel nervous around you anymore. Um, so, is there anything I should know about taking care of Andy for longer than just a few hours?”

“He’ll try to get more TV time, and he loves talking on the phone with his friends, if you don’t cap it at an hour, he’ll wrack up the phone bill. He won’t admit it, but he still likes the crust cut off his sandwiches. Oh! You’ll need to help him with his hair after he showers.”

“What does he need help with?”

“Well, there’s this special mousse he uses to help his curls really come out. Harry uses it, so he likes using it. You need to dry his hair with a t-shirt, and then comb through it. Then you have to get the mousse in your hands and run it through his hair. It’s best if he doesn’t shower right before bed because then you have to let it air dry.”

“Okay, very good to know. I don’t think I’ve been over when Harry’s helped him with that.”

“Other than that, it’s just helping him with homework and packing lunches. He’s not one of those kids that needs to sleep with you if he has a scary dream or anything like that. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”

“Alright.” You smile at her and she smiles back. You’re able to finish the rest of your meal in peace.

A little while later Andy comes in with his Gram and Auntie Allie.

“Y/N!” He shoots over to you and gives you a hug.

“Hi, did you have a good flight and all that?”

“Yeah! I’ll go up and get my stuff.”

“Okay.” You chuckle as he races upstairs.

“You both remember Y/N from Andy’s birthday party, right?” Paige says to her sister and mother.

“Yes, hi.” Allie smiles and shakes your hand. “Good to see you again.”

“You too.” You smile. “Hello Lydia.” You shake her hand and you watch as she sizes you up.

“Hello, so, you’re taking my grandson from me?”

“Mom, please.” Paige says. “Andy wants to be able to stay at home easier with Harry gone.”

“This is home too.”

“It is, but he goes to school in another town, so it’ll be easier for him to stay with Y/N.”

“You’re always giving in so easily, Paige, you should have never let-“

“Pardon me, but what are you doing?” You say.

“Excuse me?” Lydia says.

“No, I don’t think I will. Were you seriously just about to start an argument with your daughter about her son in front me? What is wrong with you? She’s his mother, I think she knows what she’s doing. You may have zero clue about what it’s like to raise a child with someone you’re not with, but she’s doing her best. I think it takes a lot of strength and courage to change up a living arrangement the way she did. It may not be my place to say because I’m just the girlfriend of the guy who she used to be with, and I know you just lost your husband, but you need to check yourself lady.”

Allie sucks her lips in to keep from laughing, and Paige has to do the same. This was prime entertainment.

“Maybe she feels like she can’t stand up to you because she’s trying to keep the peace, but she shouldn’t have to do that in her own home. You should be grateful she didn’t ship you off to a retirement home. I’m sure you have a lot of things to be angry about, but let it go. Your daughter’s made a wonderful life for herself, and I think you should recognize that before it’s too late.”

Andy comes down with his things, and goes over to give everyone a hug.

“Thanks again for lunch Gram.”

“You’re, um, more than welcome sweetheart.” She was in shock.

“See on Friday, Mum.” Andy says as he hugs his mother. “Bye, Auntie Allie, love you.”

“Love you too.”

“It was nice seeing everyone. Thanks again for brunch, Paige, it was wonderful.” You and Andy head out and leave them all stunned.

“Oh, I like her.” Allie says with a laugh.

“Who speaks to a stranger that way?!” Lydia says.

“She had a point.” Paige says. “Who starts an argument in front of a stranger? And, fuck it, she’s not a stranger! She’s Harry’s girlfriend, his serious girlfriend, who I happen to like, and Andy adores her. She was right mom, you need to check yourself. Take some time to figure out your priorities because I can’t live like this! I’m walking on eggshells in my own home. My home, not yours.”

“Okay, can everyone just take a deep breath?” Allie says. “Let’s just sit down and have a conversation without this becoming a screaming match.”

As you drive Andy to Harry’s, you hear him trying to bite back a laugh.

“What’s so funny back there?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I’ve heard my dad raise his voice at Gram before, and hearing you do the same thing just proves you two are a good couple.”

“Oh god, you heard me?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Thanks for standing up for my mom.”

“Of course! She’s a really nice person, she doesn’t deserve to be talked down to in her own home like that. I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.” You scoff. “Anyways, what do you say when we get back we get you unpacked and then we talk lunches for the week?”

“Sounds good to me. Thanks again for wanting to stay with me.”

“I’m happy to do it. It’ll be fun.”

“Do you think…um, if it goes well, that you’ll move in?”

Your eyes grow wide and your heart skips a beat.

“That’s a conversation I’d need to have with your dad, Andy. It’s sort of a big deal for two people to move in together. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t think I’m ready for that, but I really do enjoy staying over when I do.”

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” He shrugs.

You turn up the music and take a deep breath. Once you get Andy inside, and he unpacks his things you go into the kitchen with him to discuss lunches for the week.

“Just pb and j’s are fine, it doesn’t need to be fancy.”

“I know, but I wanna make sure you’re not hungry. I could cut up some carrots for you and put some chips in there too. Would you like that?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugs. “Are you gonna make baked ziti tomorrow? Dad usually gets up early on Monday mornings to get it all together and then he just throws it in the oven when we get home.”

“Sure, I can make that. I don’t know if it’ll come out as good though.”

“I’ll get up early to help you, hold on a second.” Andy goes down to the basement where Harry has another freezer and comes back up with a container of sauce. “This needs to thaw overnight in the fridge.”

“Thank god you remembered, I wouldn’t have even thought about it. So it’s pretty much just boil the pasta and get it together with the sauce?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, I shouldn’t need your help then. What time should I wake you up in the morning?”

“6:30.”

“Okay.” You nod. “Well, I know you had a big lunch, so just let me know when you feel hungry and I’ll whip up something for dinner.”

“Sounds good, I’m gonna go hang out in my room.”

“I’ll be up in the loft working if you need me.” You smile.

You: hey baby, I’m at your place with Andy. I’m gonna make him pb and j’s for lunch this week :)

Harry: that sounds great! Just make sure to cut the crust off, he won’t tell you to do it, but that’s how he likes it

You: so I’ve heard…I had a nice time with Paige today

Harry: not too awkward?

You: not really no, although, I did tell off her mom

Harry: you did?!

You: yeah, she was about to start some argument with Paige in front of me and I was like uhhh I think the fuck not!

Harry: lmao good for you, like I said, Lydia can be a bitch

You: for real

Harry: what are you up to now?

You: I’m gonna get some work done, wbu

Harry: just reading, the house is finally a little quieter…got my big meeting tomorrow

You: I know! I can’t wait to hear all about it

Harry: maybe we could FaceTime after??

You: definitely!

Harry: maybe we could plan it for when I’m getting ready for bed 😈 😈 😈

You: you’re an idiot

Harry: come on! Could be fun

You: normally I’d be game for phone sex, but at the time you’d be going to bed, I’d be eating dinner with your son, not exactly appropriate

Harry: maybe you could just send me a sexy pic then

You: a sexy pic?! How old are you???

Harry: 32, you’ve got a shit memory babe

You: you’re not helping your case

Harry: just teasing!

You: mhm, I’m going to do some work now

Harry: okay, okay I’m sorry

You: don’t be I just blah because I got my period this morning…so no sexy pics, but maybe when Andy goes back to Paige’s we could get a little frisky over the phone

Harry: sounds like an excellent compromise to me darling

You get up early the next morning to put the baked ziti together, and then you get Andy’s lunch box all set. You take a quick shower, and get dressed before going to wake up Andy. You gently open his door and peep your head in.

“Andy?” You coo. “It’s time to get up.” You hear him groan. “I’ve been told not to leave until you actually get up.”

“Ugh, fine.” He rips his blanket off and puts his feet on the floor. “Happy?”

“Very.” You smile. “Any requests for breakfast?”

“Oatmeal, please.” He yawns and you nod.

You drop Andy off at school on time, and wave to him as he walks inside. Morning one is done, you can do this.

Andy goes to his locker and puts what he doesn’t need away, and grabs his things for his first few classes.

“Andy!” Brandon exclaims and hugs him.

“Oof!” He giggles. “Almost knocked me over.”

“Sorry.” Brandon steps back and clears his throat. “How was London?”

“It was great, I had so much fun. How was your holiday?”

“It was good. Connecticut isn’t as exciting as London though.” He laughs and they both head to homeroom.

They sit in their seats and talk with their other friends. Their teacher comes in speaking with another student. Andy does a double take and his eyes grow wide. It was a girl with long, flowing brown hair. She had it up in a ponytail on the top of her head, held with a blue scrunchie.

“Hey, who’s that?” He asks his friends.

“Never seen her before.” Brandon says.

“Everyone!” The teacher says after the second bell rings. “Let’s settle down. I hope you all had a wonderful break. Today I’m excited to introduce a new student, Caroline Stearn, I hope you all will give her a warm welcome. Caroline, would you like to say a few things about yourself?”

“Um…sure? Hi, I’m Caroline, I just moved here from Maine…my mom just got a teaching job at the university down the road and my dad also just started working at the university, but he works in IT. I have three older sisters, they’re all in high school.”

“Thank you Caroline, why don’t you have a seat in front of Andy over there?”

She nods and does as told. She smiles at Andy and he smiles back. The teacher starts talking about whatever news the students need before homeroom is over.

“I’m Andy.” He whispers, and she turns around almost surprised.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles.

“I was new here last year…but I came from a school a couple towns over.” He smirks. “You can sit with us at lunch if you want.”

“Really?” She sounds relieved. “That’d be great, thanks.”

He nods and she faces back front. He looks over at Brandon who was making a face at him. Andy mouths ‘what’ at him, and Brandon rolls his eyes. Andy felt nervous, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Carline, how’s your first day going so far?” Tyler asks her during lunch.

“It’s okay. “ She shrugs. “Everyone seems nice so far.”

“Do you miss living in Maine at all?” Andy asks. She was sitting next to him.

“Honestly, not really.” She giggles. “We were from a really small town with nothing to do.” Everyone at the table bursts out laughing. “What?” Her face was red now.

“And this town doesn’t scream small town to you?” Brandon says. “The closest arcade is thirty minutes away, same with the movie theater. There’s literally nothing to do.”

“My class sizes back home were ten people max. There’s like twenty of us here.” She says shyly and takes a bite of her sandwich. She sees Andy’s and smiles. “You don’t like the crust either?”

“No.” He smiles at her. “You know what’s funny? My dad’s girlfriend made this for me, and I didn’t even have to ask her to cut it off. She’s like, psychic or something.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s staying with you, right?” Brandon chimes in.

“Mhm, she told off my Gram yesterday. It was so funny. She’s so cool, I’m really glad my dad’s with her. He can be so lame sometimes.” He rolls his eyes, and then looks at Caroline. “Sorry, that must all sound confusing.”

“It’s okay. Maybe we could get together some time and you could explain it to me.”

Andy nearly chokes on his sandwich. He takes a sip of his water, and starts nodding.

“Yeah, um, we could definitely do that.”

“Cool.” She smiles.

“Cool.” He smiles back, and then look up at Brandon who just rolls his eyes.

Since you had time before classes started back up in a couple of more weeks, you decide to go to the library to get some work done, rather than go to your office. It would almost be too quiet. Normally you’d just sleep in, but it was almost good you needed to be up for Andy, it would keep you in a routine. Lisa was hoping to see a very rough draft of your work once the second semester started.

You get a fuck ton done before needing to pick Andy up at 2:30. You decide to stop off at Dunkin beforehand to surprise him with a hot chocolate as a treat. The first day back to school after a break always felt long as a kid, so you thought you’d do something to potentially perk him up. As you pull up you see Andy walking out with Brandon, but also with a young girl. He waves goodbye to Brandon and hangs back with the girl.

“Thanks for being so nice to me today.”

“It’s not like you made it hard…” He blushes. “Um, so, you were thinking maybe Thursday after school?”

“Yeah! It would have to be your house, though, we’re still unpacking.”

“I’ll ask my dad’s girlfriend, I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“Okay…I’m excited.”

“Me too.”

“Oh! There’s my mom’s car, I better go. Bye, Andy.”

“Bye, Caroline.”

Andy sees your car and races over, getting into the back seat.

“Hi, how was school?”

“It was…really great actually.”

“Oh, good. Here, I got you a hot chocolate.”

“You’re the best, Y/N! Thanks.”

“You’re welcome…um, who was that girl you were just talking to?” You ask as you start to drive away.

“Oh, that was Caroline. She’s new, I helped her out a little bit today. I was actually sort of hoping she could come over after school Thursday.” He mutters.

“I’ll have to ask your dad if girls are allowed over.” You smirk. “You might have to hang out in a more open area.”

“Brandon and I don’t have to do that…”

“Very true, but even still, you and Brandon don’t keep the door closed when he’s over.”

“You got me there.” He shrugs. “I’m sure Dad will say yes.”

“When do your basketball practices start?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“Do you have everything you need for that?”

“Yup, I got a ton of new stuff for Christmas.”

“Okay, cool, just wanted to make sure. So…Caroline’s nice?”

“Super nice, and…her smile is pretty, so are her eyes. They’re like…the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh!”

“She…she gave me the butterflies, Y/N.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Already?”

“Yeah, and now I’m confused because I thought Brandon gave me butterflies.”

“Well…sometimes two people can give you butterflies, that’s okay.”

“But she’s a girl and he’s a boy…why am I so weird?” He groans.

“Oh, Andy, you’re not weird at all. A lot of people feel like you about boys and girls.”

“They do?”

“Sure! One of my really good friends Darcy likes boys and girls.”

“How does she decide which one she likes better?”

“Well, she doesn’t.” You shrug as you pull into the driveway. You both get into the house and sit on the couch to continue your conversation. Andy holds a throw pillow to his stomach. “I’ve been around her when she’s had a boyfriend, and when she’s had a girlfriend, both make her equally happy. I think for her, at the end of the day, she’s attracted to the type of person they are, so the gender doesn’t really matter.”

“My dad said something like that once, he says he just likes the person and the rest doesn’t really matter. And then I asked him if he liked boys like that and he said no, so I was just more confused.”

“Sexuality is an ever evolving thing, Andy. You may decide you like one thing now, but in a few years you could like something else. I know it all feels stressful and confusing, but remember you’re eleven. You have so much time to figure it all out.”

“So…you only like boys?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How did you know?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’m just not attracted to women in a way that would make me want to date one.”

“Caroline is, like, really pretty. I’ve never really thought girls were pretty before.”

“Could just be a sign you’re growing up.” You give him a soft smile. “Can I ask…if you think Caroline is pretty, what do you think of Brandon?”

“Brandon’s…ugh, Brandon’s cute, Y/N.” Andy runs a hand over his face. “I like his smile too, and I mean, look the bracelet he made me. I made him one too, but he’s not as artsy as I am, and it’s literally perfect.” He holds his wrist out so you can get a better look at the bracelet.

“It’s a beautiful bracelet.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“When you ask my dad if Caroline can come over, can you please not mention anything else to him? I don’t want him to know about any of this.”

“Andy, he just wants to be there for you…”

“I know, but…he’ll just be so, like, after school special about it. Then he’ll tell my mom about it, and I really don’t want her knowing.”

“I don’t know if I can keep a secret from your dad, Andy.”

“You wouldn’t be! Please, Y/N?”

“Okay…I’ll keep this stuff between us.”

“Thank you.” He sighs with relief and leans forward to hug you.

After dinner you end up FaceTiming with Harry. He speaks with Andy for a bit first, and then it’s your turn. You take the phone into the bedroom for some privacy while Andy takes a shower.

“Hi.” You smile at him.

“Hey, baby.”

“How was your meeting?”

“Could not have gone better.”

“Really? That’s great!”

“They loved what I had, and signed me write another piece for the journal!”

“Harry, that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. So, how was your first real day with him?”

“It was good.” You bite your bottom lip. “Can he have a friend over Thursday?”

“Sure, I don’t care if Brandon comes over.”

“It’s not Brandon…”

“Oh, Tyler then?”

“No, this is a new friend…a girl named Caroline.”

“A girl?! Wow, yeah, that’s fine. Did he tell you anything about her?”

“We actually had a long conversation about a lot of things today, but he asked me not to tell you and I don’t wanna betray his trust.”

“He…doesn’t want me to know something?”

“He doesn’t want an after school special lecture or whatever.”

“I do not do that.” He scoffs. “You really won’t tell me anything?”

“All I’m going to say is that he’s extremely confused, and I validated his feelings, and then he hugged me.”

“Does he like this girl?”

“He thinks she’s pretty.”

“And what about Brandon?”

“Can’t say.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Harry, I’m stuck here. I really wanna respect him. He’s not in any danger or anything so I think it’s okay that the conversation stayed between he and I.”

“I don’t like it.” He pouts.

“I’m sorry, baby doll.” You pout back.

“Y/N?! I need some help with my hair!”

“Welp, duty calls.” You giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Thanks for being there for him. I’m happy he has you to talk to.”

“Me too.”

You end the call and meet Andy in the living room. He looked incredibly cute with the t-shirt wrapped around his head. He sits down on the floor in front of the couch and you sit down. You comb through his hair as carefully as you can, and then you apply the mousse. You hear him sigh and it makes you smile.

“Wanna watch TV before you go read?” You ask him when you’re done.

“Yeah, can I put my show on?”

“Of course.” You smile. He gets cozy next to you, and you smirk when you see he selects Family Guy. “Andy…are you old enough to be watching this?”

“Dad lets me watch this all the time, it’s funny.” He shrugs.

“Do you even get half of the jokes?”

“Not really, but it’s still funny.”

“Okay.” You shake your head.

“Would you play with my hair?”

“Sure, do you wanna rest your head on my lap?”

“Yeah.” He smiles and grabs a pillow to get comfortable. “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You’d make a good mom.” He says with a yawn as he keeps his eyes on the TV.

“Oh, um, thank you, Andy.”

When Thursday rolls around, you pick Andy up, and you’re also met with Caroline getting into the backseat of your car.

“Hello, you must be Caroline, it’s nice to meet you.” You smile.

“Nice to meet you too.” She smiles.

“I’m Andy’s dad’s girlfriend. I hear your mom works at the university? So do I.”

“Oh, really? She works in the Psychology department…my dad works there too, but he’s in IT.”

“Well, feel free to tell your mom to look out for me and Harry. We teach in the Communication department.”

“Okay.” Caroline smiles.

You get the two of them home and fix them with a snack. You tell them you’ll be up in the loft and you remind Andy to keep his door open.

“She’s really nice.” Caroline says as she sits down on Andy’s bed.

“Yeah, she’s the first girlfriend my dad’s had in a long time. I like her a lot.”

“How long have they been together for?”

“I don’t know…seven months I think.”

“Wow, that’s a long time!”

“Super long. They were friends for a while before they got together too, so they knew each other really well.”

“That’s so sweet! My parents met on a blind date.” She giggles. “How did your mom and dad meet?”

“In college I guess.” He shrugs. “She lives about thirty minutes from here, I see her every other weekend.”

“Does she date anyone?”

“She’s engaged actually. His name is Noah and he has a daughter, Rachel. She’s a year younger than us.”

“Wow, it’s like that movie Blended.”

“Yeah! They’re nice enough, and Noah makes my mum happy, so that’s all I care about.”

“That’s, like, really grown up of you.” Caroline was in awe of Andy. He blushes slightly and clears his throat.

“Enough about me, what’s it like having three older sisters?”

“It can be fun and annoying. Like, they help me with my hair and clothes, but other times it feels like we’re always fighting. I feel bad for dad.”

“Why?”

“Because they all get their…monthly visits at the same time.”

“Oh! That video they showed us in health class was gross.”

“Did they show you the one about the girl who gets it for the first time, and then they talk about a girl’s insides?”

“Yeah! And then we had to watch the same one, but about boys, and then we had to watch a video about giving birth…”

“Ew, and they actually show the baby coming out, right?”

“Yeah…nasty.” They both shiver and then they both laugh.

“I know you guys said there wasn’t much to do around here, but what do you do for fun?”

“I play basketball with Brandon, his dad is our coach. Winter program on Fridays is fun. Do you ski?”

“I do! I can’t wait for tomorrow. Would you wanna sit with me on the bus?”

“Well…I would, but…I sit with Brandon.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can just sit near you, maybe? Are you two best friends?”

“Yeah, we are.” Andy blushes. “And yeah, you can definitely sit near me.”

“Cool.” She smiles and grabs her books out of her bag, and Andy does the same. “You’d been so great to me all week. I’m really glad that seat was open in front of you in homeroom.”

“Me too.”

Later that night, after Caroline’s mom picked her up, you and Andy watch a little TV on couch. He had been quiet.

“So, do you have everything together for winter program tomorrow?”

“Yup, got my ski bag ready to go.”

“Make sure to pack what you need for your mum’s, she’s gonna get you after school tomorrow.”

“And then I’ll see you Monday after school, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I had a lot of fun with you this week. You make me not miss my dad as much.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. It’s okay to miss him, though, I miss him a lot too.”

“You forgot to say that you had a lot of fun with me too.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, did I?” Andy likes praise too, it seems. “Well, I had loads of fun with you this week, and we’ll have loads more next week.”

“I hope we get a snow day or something. Brandon’s dad usually takes us sledding.”

“Maybe you could bring Caroline with you too. She’s very nice.”

“Yeah, I like her a lot. She asked if she could sit with me tomorrow, but I had to tell her no because I sit on the bus with Brandon.”

“That’s good you didn’t flake on Brandon.”

“He’d kill me if I did, although, I feel like he’s getting a taste of his own medicine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when he was with Molly? Everything was about her, now he knows how it feels.”

“Right, he’d talk about her a lot.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you talk about Caroline a lot?”

“Pretty much, it’s hard not to. She’s funny, and she always smells like cherries.” He swoons.

“And to think you’ve only known her for four days.” You chuckle.

“I wonder if she’ll go on the lift with me tomorrow, shoot, I should have asked her while she was here.”

“Do you have her number?”

“Yeah…”

“So text her and ask. Tell her you had a nice time hanging out, and then ask her if she’ll save a run for you tomorrow.”

“You’re brilliant, Y/N! I’m gonna go do that now and then get ready for bed. Goodnight!”

“Night.” You smile and watch him run off to his room.

You felt like a full on basketball-mom sitting at Andy’s practice. Watching all the boys was pretty fun, you never got to see Andy be sporty other than going on hikes. There were some other parents and older siblings in the gym watching as well. You got some funny looks from some, and others were quite friendly. You brought your laptop with you to get some work done, but you ended up taking pictures for Harry to see. You knew it killed him to miss Andy’s first week back in action.

Brandon’s dad had the boys running drills, back and forth, sprinting up and down the court. He had them all working on their dribbling, and at the end he had them scrimmage a bit. You noticed how when the boys had to stand and listen to directions that Brandon and Andy were often leaning on each other mindlessly, or touching in some fashion. When practice ends, Brandon chats with Andy quick.

“Did you wanna do homework over the phone later?” Brandon asks.

“I can’t. I need to shower and eat, and then I told Caroline I’d call her.”

“Oh…”

“Sorry, maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure, yeah, maybe you could just come over after school?”

“Well, Y/N is watching me for a reason, you know? You could come to place, though.”

“Yeah! I’ll ask my parents.”

“Great, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Andy comes over to you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, you looked great out there.”

“Thanks, can Brandon come over tomorrow?”

“Sure.” You shrug. “Come on, I ordered a pizza for dinner and I need to go pick it up. Thought it would be a nice break from my cooking.”

“I like the way you cook, but pizza sounds great.”

Brandon was fuming, and you could feel it. Andy had accidentally invited Caroline over too, and you were just trying to keep them all happy. They were all playing video games in the living room, and you popped them some popcorn. They had all done their homework together, but you could feel the tension when you gave them dinner. Luckily they’d be getting picked up soon so you could chat with Andy about it. Caroline’s phone goes off.

“Oh! My dad’s here.” Andy pauses the game to walk her to the door. “Thanks for having me.” She gives Andy a hug goodbye after she gets her coat on, and heads out.

“Isn’t she cool, B? She knows how to play Smash Brothers.” Andy says as he sits back down with Brandon.

“It’s not rocket science.” He mumbles.

“Are you okay? You were sort of quiet…”

“Well, I thought just you and I were hanging out today.”

“I told you at school, when she and talked last night I just sort of told her she could come by. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. You used to do it with Molly all the time.”

“Yeah, but Molly was my girlfriend, that’s different.”

“How is that any different?”

“Because she’d let me kiss her after. You wouldn’t say no to someone who lets them kiss you.”

“Maybe you should go back to kissing her then.” Andy rolls his eyes. “I like hanging out with Caroline…”

“More than me?”

“No…it’s just different.”

“Well, it sort of feels like you have a new best friend.”

“Don’t be like that, she’s not my new best friend, she’s just a new friend. She’s really pretty. Who knows, maybe I’ll kiss her.”

“You like her enough to kiss her?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “She’s really pretty, don’t you think?”

“She’s okay.” Brandon shrugs, and he sees his phone light up. “My mom’s here, I have to go.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

“See you.” They both hug before Brandon leaves.

“Andy…um…”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He huffs and goes to his room. You follow after him and stand in his doorway.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted some ice cream.”

“No, thank you.” He sighs. “I feel Brandon was upset with me. I really didn’t think he’d mind it if she came.”

“Well, now you know. Maybe don’t make it a group thing.”

“He’s the only one of our friends that seems to mind her. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe he’s jealous that you’re suddenly not as available.”

“Then that makes him a hippo because he did the same thing with Molly.”

“I think you mean hypocrite.” You chuckle.

“Whatever it is, you know what I mean. This is so annoying, I acted supportive when he told me he was dating her.”

“Are you saying you want to date Caroline?”

“Maybe! It shouldn’t matter, he should be there for me. I should be able to talk about girls and stuff with him.”

“Andy did you ever stop to think that maybe Brandon is confused in the way that you’re confused?” His eyes widen at that.

“You mean…Brandon could think that I’m cute?”

“He could, yeah.”

“Oh my god.” He looks around like he’s searching for an answer. “But what if Caroline thinks I’m cute too?”

“Do you think that she thinks you’re cute?”

“There are rumors going around that she does!”

“Okay, so what do you want to do?!”

“I have no idea!” He flops onto his bed. He mumbles something into his pillow.

“What?!”

“I think I wanna ask her out!”

“Are you even allowed to date yet?!”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think I’d be feeling this way so soon so I haven’t asked!”

“Well, now I have to tell your dad what’s been going on!”

“No, you can’t!”

“I have to!”

“Okay, everybody just be cool.” Andy stands back up. “Screaming won’t get us anywhere.”

“Andy, you can’t ask her out unless your dad says it’s okay. I don’t know how he feels about you dating. You’re only eleven!”

“But I like her…”

“Then you need to wait until Harry gets home, and you need to talk to him about all of this. I won’t say a word, but you sure as hell will.” You cross your arms and so does he.

“I don’t wanna talk to him about this. He’s too romantic about everything, and then he’s gonna be like ‘my baby has a crush’.”

“Well, his baby does have a crush. It’s adorable when you think about it.”

“God, not you too.” He runs his hands over his face. “Fine, I’ll talk to him when he gets back and I won’t make a move beforehand.”

“Good.” You nod and stick your hand out for him to shake. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You went to bed exhausted as fuck that night. You needed Harry home, now.

The next morning at school Andy takes a deep breath before going over to Brandon at his locker.

“Hi.” He says shyly.

“Morning.” Brandon says without looking at him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Brandon closes his locker and looks at Andy. “I should have asked first before just inviting someone else over with us.”

“It’s okay.” Brandon sighs. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, Caroline is really pretty. Do you, um, think you like like her?”

“I might…I think so, but I’m a little confused. It doesn’t matter anyways, she probably doesn’t like me like that.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Brandon smirks and throws his arm around Andy’s shoulders as they walk to homeroom. “You’re a great catch.”

“Shut up.” Andy chuckles and nudges Brandon.

Things seemed fine between the boys as basketball practice. You could just tell by their body language. You and Andy share a dinner of pasta and veggies after he showers.

“Did you stay here all weekend while I was at my mum’s? I didn’t even think to ask.”

“No, I went back to my place. I’ll do the same when you go back on Friday. I had water my plants and all that.”

“What’s your place like?”

“It’s just a simple two bedroom.” You shrug. “I like it a lot cause it’s all mine. I love decorating and interior design, so I’ve had fun really making it my own.”

“If you could redecorate here, what do you think you’d change?”

“Hmm…” You look around. “First off, I’d paint…everywhere. It’s dark too dark in the living room. I’d paint it a light grey, and then find some curtains with some color to make it pop. I’d also get blinds for the sliding door, I hate that there’s nothing covering it. In here I’d probably get a round table to save some space. It’s a great size dining area and kitchen, but a round table would just make more sense, I think. I’d also put a glass coffee table in the living room to make it seem like there was more space, not that it’s cramped. It’s a wonderful sized home. More spacious than most ranches I’ve seen.”

“I literally agree with everything. Dad said we could do some painting over his spring break. I think he focused a lot on getting the outside to look nice.”

“Oh, you can tell he loves landscaping. This home has a beautiful curb appeal.”

“Do you think after dinner we could watch House Hunters together again? It was a lot of fun the other night.”

“Definitely!” You smile. “How were things with Brandon today?”

“Good, I apologized for just inviting Caroline over, and he said it was okay.”

“And how was Caroline today?”

“God she…she shared her cosmic brownie with me.” Andy rests his chin his palm and pouts. “I didn’t even ask, she just offered. She’s so nice, Y/N.”

“That was very nice of her.” You chuckle. “Those are the best brownies.”

“Dad never buys them because he says they’re overly processed, so we’ll make them here. It was a real treat.”

Andy helps you clean up dinner, and then you both get settled on the couch. He had gotten into a rhythm of resting his head on a pillow in your lap and wanting you to play with his hair. He had murmured that your nails felt nice like at the hairdresser. He loved listening to your commentary while watching the extremely staged show.

“Oh good, it’s House Hunters: Renovation! I love when they show what they did with the house after they bought it.” You say.

“Me too, I always like seeing if they make it worse or better.”

“I crack up when a lot of them try to do these intricate home projects by themselves. Hire someone for fuck’s sake.” You scoff and then blush. “Sorry.”

“Mum swears all the time.” Andy giggles. “If I tell her about someone that’s bother me, or something she just says fuck ‘em, it’s her…uh…what’s what word that starts with a ph?”

“Philosophy?”

“Yeah! It’s her philosophy.”

“Not a bad one to live by.” You smirk.

After two episodes, you send Andy off to bed, and get ready for bed yourself. You setting into one of Harry’s tee shirts, and decide to listen to one of those mediation bed time stories he’s always suggesting. You plug your headphones into your phone, turn the lights off and settle in. Just as you’re beginning to relax, the story stops, and Harry’s contact photo pops up on the screen, surprising you.

“Hello?” You whisper.

“Hi, baby.”

“Harry, it must be the middle of the night over there, why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“My body pillow just isn’t doing it for me tonight, I miss you.”

“Aw, babe, I miss you too…only a few more days. You’re back Saturday, yeah?”

“Mhm...are you gonna be at my place or yours?”

“I’ll probably be at mine since Andy will be at Paige’s. We’re having loads of fun. His basketball practices are going well. You got the pictures I sent?”

“I did, thank you for sending them along. Any other news to report, or are you still holding out on me?” You could practically hear the smirk that was sure to be on his face.

“All I can say is that Andy is going to have an important question to ask you when you get back.”

“Can you give me any hints?”

“He…may want to start dating…”

“Brandon?!”

“No, actually, someone else, but I’ve said too much already. I told him he had to ask you if he even was allowed to date.”

“Oh, it’s so meaningless at this age, I don’t care, but thanks for telling him that.”

“It’s not totally meaningless. There was a boy that asked me out when I was in seventh grade, and I said yes because I thought I had a crush on him, and then I realized I wasn’t ready to date, so the next day I told him I didn’t want to. It was so awkward.”

“And…you remember all this?”

“Of course, a girl never forgets.”

“Changing subject a bit…um…are you still, uh, on the rag?”

“On the rag?!” You nearly cackle. “No, you idiot.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it!”

“Just ask me if I’m on my period or not.”

“It’s an awkward question to ask.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem fucking me when I’m ‘on the rag’.”

“Not at all. Makes me a real man if I say so myself.” You hum your response, not having the energy to say something sarcastic. “Are you in bed already?”

“I am, I was even listening to one of those bed time stories you’re always talking about.”

“Is it alright that I’m interrupting?”

“Mhm.”

“What are you wearing, Y/N?”

“One of your shirts, your Rolling Stones tee.”

“Ah, that’s a good one.”

“What about you?”

“Just my boxers.”

Harry’s voice was low, and gravely. It was sort of nice listening to it with your headphones in. Heating him in surround sound was raising goosebumps on your body. If you closed your eyes it would be like he was there next to you, talking into your ear.

“Harry, did you call to have phone sex with me?”

“Would you me mad if I did?”

“No…just wish I had one of my items here to help me along.”

“Guess you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way and use your hand.”

“What are we in medieval times?”

“Alas, fair maiden, it seems we are.” You giggle softly at him. God, he was so cute. “So, you’re okay with this?”

“Very okay with it.” You bite your bottom lip.

“Are you biting your lip?”

“Yes.” You hear him hum in understanding.

“Wish it was me doing it. I’d bite your lip and then nip across your jaw to your neck.”

“Oh, I like it when you do that. I’d like you bite every inch of me.” You smile. “You know what else I really like?”

“Tell me.”

“I like when you kiss on my tits, and then when you blow on my nipples once they’re all wet.”

“Yeah? Gets your nipples pretty hard, huh?”

“Mhm.” You lift your shirt up over your chest so you could rub your palm over one of your breasts.

“Please tell me you’re touching them.”

“I am.”

“I love your tits, Y/N. Love touching and kneading.”

“I like feeling your big hands on them, and then I like when one of your hands slides between my legs while you’re still kissing on them.”

“And you’re always so wet for me once I get there.”

“M’wet now, Harry.”

“Fuck.”

“How hard his your dick right now?”

“Very, it’s throbbing for you.”

“Why don’t you lick your palm and wrap your hand around yourself like I would. Want you to touch yourself while I am.” You hear some rustling, and then a grunt from him. “Love when you listen to me.”

“Love when you tell me what to do.” He grunts again. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m just moving my fingers around myself, feeling myself get more wet.”

“Put a finger inside and then drag it up to your clit.” He hears a soft moan come from you. “Good girl.” He breathes.

Your eyes snap open. He had never said that to you before. You kind of liked it.

“What’s that? I’m your good girl?”

“My very good girl.”

“Christ, Harry.” You groan as your fingers press circles into your clit. “Fuck, I wish you were here, want your mouth on me.”

“Where?”

“Right on my clit so you can suck on it.”

Harry’s tip was leaking so much now that he was able to spread his precome all over his length. It felt incredible, but it was nowhere near as good as being squeezed by your walls.

“I’d do that, and slip my fingers inside, pet that special spot.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Your back arches slightly as you imagine it. “Harry.” You whine.

“That’s it baby, say my name while you make yourself come.”

“Want you to come too.”

“I will once you do. Gotta hear you do it first.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You groan as you rub yourself faster. You were so drenched you had to kick all of the blankets off yourself. You plant your feet into the bed as you bend your legs at the knee. Your arch your back up to get a better angle, and god does it feel good.

“Bet you’re squeezing around nothing, just wishing I was there.” All he could hear was you grunting and moaning.

“Harry.” You grit your teeth. “I, I’m, oh fuck!” You press your face into the pillow so you can moan out, but keep it muffled.

“God.” He breathes. “Blew my load just listening to you, Y/N.”

“Harry.” You whimper. “I’m a mess now and you’re not even here to clean it up.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He chuckles slightly. “I’m a mess here too if that makes you feel better.”

“It does a little.” You giggle. “I really can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither, my love.”

His words make you feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Well, unless you wanna listen to me pee, which I really hope you don’t because that’s just one kink I would have to shame you for, I think I should go.”

“Nope, no pee kink here, baby.” He laughs. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“Back at you.” You sigh and hang up the phone. There was something strangely erotic about getting yourself off alone in Harry’s bed. Calling you like that was sneaky, but you knew you’d sleep better, and he would too.

“Mm, hello?” You groan at 5AM when your phone goes off.

“Due to weather and road conditions, school is cancelled today.”

You sit up right away. You had no idea it was supposed to snow last night, and you also had no idea how to use Harry’s snow blower. You get up and throw your robe on, you needed to tell Andy there was no school. You quietly go into his room, and put your hand on his shoulder.

“Andy, sweetie, you have a snow day today.” You coo.

“M’kay.” He whispers sleepily.

You smile and leave his room so he can go back to sleep. You look outside and see it’s still dark. You figure you should go back to sleep as well. Yours and Harry’s cars were in the garage, so it wasn’t like you need to worry about digging them out. You could tackle the shoveling in a few hours.

You end up starting your day around eight, deciding that sweats would be most comfortable. You think Andy would enjoy some waffles for breakfast, so you get the batter going in the waffle maker. He appears from his room shortly after, the aroma being too intoxicating for him to stay in bed any longer.

“Morning.” He says, knuckling at his eyes.

“Morning, you hungry?”

“Mhm.” He smiles as she places a stack of waffles in front of him at the table. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

“What kind of snow is it?”

“The powdery kind. I need to get out there soon to clean up the driveway. You don’t happen to know how to use the snow blower do you?”

“No idea. I usually stick to shoveling the walkways and the stairs.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out. How hard could it be?”

After twenty minutes of tinkering, you Googled how to start a snow blower, and found a video to watch. Once you got it going, it was pretty simple. You cleared the driveway of all the snow as Andy worked to clear the walkway to the front door.

“We make a pretty good team!” You say as you get the snow blower back in the garage.

“Yeah!”

You both head in through the garage and go into the basement to shed yourselves of your wet jackets, snow-pants, and boots.

Caroline: hey Andy! My sisters are taking me sledding since the roads aren’t too bad, do you wanna come?

Brandon: My dad’s gonna take me skiing today, do you wanna come?

“Shit.” Andy says to himself as he checks his phone.

“What’s up?” You ask him as you hand him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Both Caroline and Brandon invited me to do stuff with them…what should I do?”

“Who asked you first?”

“Caroline did…”

“Which activity would you rather do?”

“I’d rather go skiing, but I’d also like to hang out with Caroline…”

“Well, maybe you could go skiing with Brandon, and then meet up with Caroline later.” You shrug. “She could come over here and I could set a movie up for you in the living room, and I could sit up in the loft while you hang out.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t mind me being out all day with my friends?”

“Not at all, snow days are supposed to be fun, and the roads aren’t that bad right now.”

“You’re the best, Y/N!” Andy hugs you, and goes to text his friends.

Andy: Sure! I just need to a few minutes to get my gear together.

Brandon: Awesome! I’ll let my dad know, see you soon! Did Y/N want to come?

Andy: I’ll ask

“Y/N!”

“Yeah!”

“Did you want to come skiing?”

“Oh god.” You laugh. “No, I think I’ll save that for your dad, but thank you.”

Andy: she said thanks but no thanks lol

Brandon: okay lmao

Andy smiles and then goes to text Caroline.

Andy: Thanks for thinking of me, I’m actually going skiing with Brandon, but Y/N said you could come over for a movie later if you want???

Caroline: of course! Totally don’t blame you for wanting to go skiing. I’d love to come over later, I’ll ask my parents. Wanna just text me when you get home and we can figure it out from there?

Andy: sounds good to me ☺️

Caroline: ☺️☺️

“Okay, this should all work out.” Andy says to you. “I’m gonna get my stuff together.”

“Alright, will you just let me know once you’re there and all that. Text me updates so I know you didn’t split your head open. I don’t think your dad would like me very much anymore if that happened.”

“Yeah.” Andy laughs. “I think he’d take some brownie points away for sure.”

Andy was having a great time skiing with Brandon and his dad. After a couple of hours they all go into the lodge to get a quick lunch. Mr. Stewart goes up to order all the food while the boys sit at the table.

“Did you want to come back my house after? My mom’s making beef stew for dinner.”

“Aw man, I love your mom’s beef stew.” Andy pouts. “But I can’t, I have plans later.”

“Oh yeah? What are you up to?”

“Um…I invited Caroline over for a movie.”

“Oh.” Brandon’s face falls.

“But only because she invited me to go sledding today, and I said no I could ski with you.”

“Oh.” He perks back up. “What movie do you think you’ll watch?”

“I have no idea, I’ll probably let her decide. Any time me, my dad, and Y/N all watch a movie he always lets her decide.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes her happy.” He shrugs. “And then she’ll kiss him, and he likes that.”

“Right.” Brandon swallows. Before he can say anything else his dad comes over with the food.

You got a fuck ton of work done today, you were really proud of yourself. Harry’s loft was a perfect working space, even if you did miss your office at home. You hear Andy come in the door, and he shouts hello and that he’ll be in the shower. You chuckle to yourself and save what you’re working on for now.

Andy comes out a little while later just as you’re rifling through take out menus.

“I was thinking you could get something yummy for dinner. What do you think she’d like?”

“Pizza and mozzarella sticks sound safe.” He says.

“Alright, I’ll order it in a bit so it’s here when she is. I’m sure a lot of people are doing delivery tonight.”

“And you’ll just be upstairs?”

“Mhm, I don’t need to hover…just… you know, don’t sit on top of each other.”

He makes a face at you like he’s grossed out and then walks away from you. Not too long after the food arrives, so does Caroline.

“Thanks for getting all this, Y/N.” She says to you.

“Oh, you’re more than welcome. Did you two settle on a movie?”

“Cars.” Andy says. “Right, you wanna watch Cars?”

“Mhm.” She smiles.

“Okay, Cars it is.” You smile and set the movie up on Disney+. They both settle on the couch. “I’ll be right upstairs working if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” Andy says and watches you go upstairs. “I like this movie a lot, Brandon and I watch it all the time.”

“It’s one of my favorites. I don’t really like the sequels though.”

“Me either!”

“They suck.”

“Yeah.” Andy smiles.

“I really like Wall-E, too.”

“My dad and I watched that together for the first time a couple years ago and he cried.” Andy laughs.

“He did?!”

“Yeah! I have no idea why. He cries a lot when we watch movies, though.”

“He sounds funny, I can’t wait to meet him.” She smiles and turns her attention to the TV.

About halfway through the movie, once they were done eating, you noticed it had gotten a little quite, so you peer over the banister to see what was going on. They were simply entranced by the film, giggling occasionally. You smile and sit back down.

There was the part in the movie where the town comes back to life, and the cars all pair of to cruise together. Caroline sighs softly, and he hand brushes Andy’s. They both look down at their hands, and Andy makes a bold move in holding her, fingers intertwined and all. She smiles at him and blushes.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She nods with a brighter smile.

“Cool.” He sighs with relief, and they continue the movie like that, holding hands.

You stand in the kitchen while Caroline gets her coat on after the movie ended and her oldest sister was in the car outside.

“Thanks again for having me, it was fun.”

“Anytime.”

She throws her arms around his neck to give him a hug, and out the door she goes. Andy sighs contently and walks into the kitchen with a huge smile on his face. He gives you a surprising hug.

“What was that for?”

“For being so cool to let us chill alone. Knowing my dad, he would have walked by every two seconds, or if I were at Mum’s she would have had Rachel watch the movie with us. We…we held hands, Y/N.”

“Oh my.” You smile. “Big step.”

“No kidding.” He agrees. “I…I need to go call Brandon.” He races into his room and closes the door.

Andy was so innocently sweet, and it warmed your heart like nothing else ever could.

“He was a perfect angel, honestly.” You say over the phone to Janette as you stuff your face with the ice cream you had in your freezer. “He’s very popular, and is always busy. No wonder Harry didn’t make time to date before, I’m exhausted.”

“Doing it alone is tough, but now he’s got a great partner to help him out.”

“I love helping. He and I didn’t have one single disagreement, and he listened to me the whole time.”

“Well, of course he did. You’re his dad’s girlfriend.”

“True, but I was really expecting him to try to get away with something.”

“He probably knew he couldn’t test you. Smart kid.”

You chuckle and talk with her more about her break is going. You survived two weeks with Andy. You kept him alive and well.

Later on, you were snuggled up on your couch in some sweats of Harry’s, and a blanket, watching TV. Your heart skips a beat when you hear the jingle of keys and you front door unlocking. Harry said he’d text you when he landed, and he hadn’t. You stand up and shuffle around, grabbing a fry pan and getting into a batting stance.

“Baby?! I’m back!” He stops short when he sees you ready to attack and then he bursts out laughing.

“Stop it! I thought you were a burglar!”

“So you stood there frozen?!”

“You can go home if you want, I’m not longer happy to see you.” You pout and put the pan on the counter.

“Don’t be like that, I missed you so much, come here.”

Your smile slowly grows on your face, and you jump into his arms. He picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, tucking your face into his neck, getting a good whiff of his cologne.

“How was your flight?” You mumble into him as he holds you close.

“Little bit of turbulence, but it was good.” He says as he starts walking you into your bedroom. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Slept plenty on the plane and bus.”

He gets you on the bed, and kicks his shoes off before getting on with you. You both lay on your sides facing each other. He grabs your leg and puts it over his hip so he can slot his leg between yours, and then he pulls you close so you’re chest to chest. He moves some hair behind your ear.

“Hi.” He says with a big smile.

“Hi.” You smile back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He leans in and slots his mouth over yours, and your eyes flutter closed. You tug at his shirt to pull him even closer as you rock against the leg that’s between yours. His tongue drags along your bottom lip and you moan softly. He licks into your mouth and you’re met with his familiar minty taste. You tug him completely on top of you as you turn onto your back. You wanted his weight to just crush you.

“Baby.” He coos as he kisses from your jaw to your neck. He sucks on your soft skin and your hips buck up again. His leg moves further between yours and you gasp.

Your fingers lace through his hair and you tug as you grind against his thigh. You were feeling incredibly needy now that he was here with you, and not just a voice through the phone. You could feel him getting hard against her hip, so you reach into his joggers and start pumping him, getting a heft groan from him.

“Need you.” You breathe.

“Need to taste you first.” He says as shifts to tug your sweatpants off.

“No, please just fuck me, we can do all that afterwards.”

“I need to prep you first or it’ll hurt.”

“Harry, I’ve been fucking you for seven months, I’m perfectly adjusted.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, maybe not perfectly, but I’m feeling impatient so please.” She pouts at him and he physically can’t say no.

He doesn’t bother with your shirt, or his, he just gets his pants off, and you get yours off. He goes to get up in search for a condom, but you grab him and shake your head.

“Wanna feel you, just pull out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

His lips crash to yours as your legs open up for him. He lines himself up with you and rubs his tip along your clit. You were plenty wet for him. You both groan from the feeling. He slowly pushes inside you, and your head falls back from the stretch. Your mouth was hanging open trying to breathe to help yourself relax.

“Holy shit.” You say as he’s about halfway in.

“Three weeks in a long time, babe, let me take some time to just-“ He starts to pull out but your sink your nails into his ass.

“Just go for it.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, it’ll feel good. Just give it one good thrust.”

He bites his bottom lip and does as you say, bottoming out immediately. You choke out a gasp. It hurt a little, but it quickly turned to pleasure as you felt full for the first time in weeks. You tighten around him and he grits his teeth.

“I’ll come if you do that.”

“Sorry, go ahead, move, fuck me, Harry.”

He rocks in and out of you, and you pull him closer so his head is buried in your neck. You wrap your legs around his lower back, and get your hands up under his shirt so you can scratch and squeeze at him.

“You feel so fucking good.” He growls into your ear, and it makes your eyes roll back.

“So, so do you, fuck.”

He sits up slightly to get a better angle. He pushes one of your legs back, and lets the other lay flat, and your mouth falls open as he thrusts in and out of you.

“Oh my god, Harry!”

“Hold your leg up f’me.”

You do as he says immediately and hook your arm under your leg as he continues to fuck in and out of you. He was hitting your g-spot perfectly. You reach to rub your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Oh my fucking god, Harry, don’t stop.” You were panting already. “Fuck, fuck, please, don’t stop.”

You knew he wouldn’t dare, but you couldn’t think of what else to say. Tears were starting to form in your eyes because it just felt so fucking good.

“Oh, oh! Fuck!” Your back arches as you come to your release. You squeeze impossibly tight around him.

“Shit, Y/N!” Harry pulls out of you just in time and comes on your stomach, getting a little on your shirt, but your head was so fuzzy you didn’t care.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-oh!”

You look down and see Harry’s head between your legs. He really did want to taste you. He sucks on your clit and your hands go right back into his hair. You tug and squeeze with each stroke. He was moaning into you, and it was driving you crazy. You moan along with him as he gets both of your legs over his shoulders, your heels digging into his back.

“Harry.” You groan.

He was just focusing solely on your clit because he knew you’d be too sensitive for anything else, but he didn’t mind. You could tell he really just wanted to be close with you like this. The tip of his tongue makes circles on your clit and you feel like you go cross-eyed.

“That’s it, Harry, fuck, oh my god, that’s fucking it!” You cry out as you come and press his face further against you.

“Ride me.” He breathes. “Ride my face, I wanna keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You nod and wait for him to get adjusted. You rip your shirt off so you can be fully naked for him. You center yourself on him, and gasp when you feel his tongue on your again. His fingers sink into the plushy skin of your ass, and you essentially move so you’re twerking on him, which you know he loves. He loves when you really just use him, he was like your person scratching post.

He had you screaming again in no time, he was pretty proud of himself. You inch down his body, and get his shirt off so you can kiss down his chest. You suck marks into his skin, lower and lower, leaving a nasty trail of love bites behind. He was hard again, so you lick up and down his shaft before taking him into your mouth. You suckle his tip with vigor, making nasty noises that was music to his ears. One of your hands massages his balls while the other scratches up and down his stomach.

“Fuck.” He groans as you take him deep, bobbing up and down. You look up at him as best you can and he runs a caring hand through your hair. “Let me come on your tits, Y/N.”

You smirk with him still in your mouth and then you let him go with a pop. You get in a better position between his legs and pump his wet dick furiously.

“Jesus Christ! Just like that, baby. I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”

His come shoots in ribbons onto your chest, and you bask in the warmth it has at first. You kiss back up his body, smearing your chest onto his. You both giggle as your mouth reaches his again. He rolls you both back over so he’s on top again.

“Can’t get enough of you right now.” He says as he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Let me use one of your-“

“Harry, baby, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but let’s take a break, yeah?” You chuckle. “You’ve tuckered me out.”

“Mm, guess I’m a little tired too.” He kisses your cheek. “Could we go shower?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” You nod with a sigh.

You wobbled into the bathroom with him, and he gets the water going. Once it’s warm enough you both stand under the water, just holding each other for a bit. He kisses your neck and shoulder occasionally, and you run your hands through his hair. You take turns washing each other up before you get out and towel off.

You cuddle up in bed with your head on his chest, just listening to his heart beat for bit with his fingers lightly stroking your back. You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him.

“Yes?”

“You sure got excited earlier, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it, just missed you so much. Do you feel okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure I’ll be a little sore, but it’s alright.” You smile. “Did you have a good time with your family?”

“I did, I feel really recharged. It’s always nice being home. Maybe, um, maybe next year you’d like to try coming with me?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You grin. He sit up a little and so do you. He puts his arm around you and kisses your temple.

“So, you really won’t tell me much about your two weeks with Andy?”

“I told you everything I could. What we ate for meals, how his basketball practices went…oh! We had a snow day and he went skiing with Brandon. I even used the snow blower.”

“You did?!”

“I did.”

“Bet you looked pretty hot.”

“Oh, stop.” You swat at his chest.

“But seriously…”

“You’ll have to talk with him tomorrow when you pick him up.” You bite your bottom lip. “He held hands with the girl, Caroline.”

“Wow.” He blinks a few times. “I wonder if he still might like Brandon.”

“He’s very confused, but I think it’s important to let him sort of test the waters. He said he never really thought girls were pretty before, but he thinks she’s really pretty.”

“God, I’m gonna have to have the talk with him.” He groans. “It was awkward enough when I got him that puberty book.”

“It’s not like you have to go in depth, you just need to remind him to be respectful.”

“You don’t understand…when boys start going through all this…things can get sticky.”

“Ew, enough said.” You both laugh. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

Sunday morning, you drop Harry off at his place so he can unpack and get himself settled before going to pick Andy up. He exchanges pleasantries with Paige, and then on the road he goes.

“How come we’re taking the long way home?”

“Because we need to chat about some things.”

“What did Y/N tell you?” He rolls his eyes.

“Not much, honestly. Apparently you have a new friend, though.”

“Yeah, her name’s Caroline. She’s new to the school, her and her family just moved here from Maine. She came over to watch a movie the other day and we held hands…she even shared her cosmic brownie with me, Dad, I think we like each other, but…I feel guilty about Brandon.”

“Andy…how do you feel about Brandon, exactly?”

“I don’t know.” He mumbles. “It’s like…it’s like Brandon’s like an oo, and Caroline’s like an ah. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” He sighs.

“It does?”

“Yeah…so…you held hands with Caroline?”

“Yeah, it was really nice. Would it be alright if I asked her out?”

“Didn’t you already do that by asking her over for a movie?” Harry chuckles.

“No, I mean…I think I wanna date her. I wanna see if she’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Do you think you’re ready for a girlfriend? It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“It is?”

“Sure! Gotta treat whoever you date really nice, give them a lot of respect.”

“I do respect her. I asked her if it was okay while we were holding hands.”

“Thatta boy.” Harry says proudly. “Always ask before you touch, and if they say no, that means no.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Andy, that’s something I’m gonna say over and over to you for the rest of my life, so get used to it.”

“Did you date a lot of people when you were younger?”

“Um…not really. I mean, I had a couple of girlfriends in secondary school, and I dated a girl at uni in London before I came here and met Mum. So…you’d rather go for it with a girl you barely know rather than with Brandon?”

“I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Brandon, Dad…and I’m scared. Caroline doesn’t make me feel scared.”

“Well…if you’d really like to ask her out, I suppose it’s alright.”

“Really?!”

“Sure, we could go on a double date even. Ice skating, maybe?”

“Dad, you’re the coolest! I can’t wait to call her later.”

“You’re gonna ask her out over the phone? Don’t you wanna do it in person?”

“Get with it, Dad.” Andy scoffs. “Everything’s done over the phone now.”

“Well, excuse me.”

“I think you’ll like her, she’s so nice.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“She always smells like cherries too.” Andy sighs.

“You’ve got it bad for her, huh?”

“I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. I think I’m finally catching up with everyone.”

“It’s not a race, son.”

“Sometimes it feels like it is. Whatever, I just feel good about it, about her.”

“Alright.”

“I really liked staying with Y/N.”

“She said she had a great time with you.”

“Do you think you’ll ask her to move in with us?”

“Would like me to?”

“Yeah…I want her around more.”

“Me too.” Harry smiles. “I think I’ll ask her soon, maybe when the weather gets a little warmer.”

“She still needs to learn to ski. You should ask her to come with us to the cabin for February break.”

“I think Mum was hoping to do another family trip…”

“So, Y/N’s family now.”

“I’m happy you feel that way, but I don’t know how comfortable she’d feel doing something like that for an entire week.”

“You won’t know unless you ask.”

#harry styles #office neighbors #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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bitterepiphany · 3 years

Text

the bodyguard situation

archive of our own

@zuzusexytiems enjoy ;))

ooh also partly inspired by @amy-r-k's aa first kiss hc <3<3

warning: contains spoilers for 139

If somebody had told her during her days in the Southern Training Corps that Armin Arlert would become the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps, Annie would have scoffed in their face. There would be no way in hell that a boy that soft and weak, a boy that struggled to even complete the Training Corps program, would become the leader of by far the most dangerous branch of military here on this island.

But times had changed. Times had changed so drastically, so mind-bendingly, that Annie almost longed for those days, those simple days when the only troubles worrying her mind was the location of the Founder, and the guilt over all the destruction they had wrought on the people within the walls. Funny, how something so enormous could become so simple in hindsight.

Something hadn’t changed, though, in Annie’s world. It surprised her sometimes, how much she had come to rely on that soft and weak boy from training, how just the sound of his voice could ground her, reminding her of all the years she spent in that crystal with only his and Hitch’s words to keep her sane.

Things had happened slowly, softly. There was so much aftermath to deal with, so much death, destruction, and fear to manage, that for at least the first year after Eren’s death, they barely had time for one another. Fragile, temporary stalemates disguised as peace were made between surviving humanity and those of Paradis, and work began to salvage and rebuild what was flattened.

Armin had been forced to take up his role as the new Commander, and for a period of time, stood at a similar rank to Historia as the only surviving military leader after the rest had been turned into titans and subsequently killed. While Historia stayed on Paradis, Armin and their surviving group - Annie, Reiner, Connie, Jean, and Pieck - who were dubbed, ‘The Heroes of Paradis’, stayed in Marley, negotiating with their surviving leaders and helping the cleanup and rebuild effort. Levi remained in Marley to recover from his injuries with their more advanced technology, and Mikasa chose not to go with them, opting to instead retire from military work to instead mourn her loss in peace.

But after things had settled (or as settled as they could be after eighty percent of the world was crushed), the unresolved tension between them couldn’t be ignored through their various distractions anymore. From lingering looks, hands brushing each other for a little longer than it to be accidental, and making constant, see-through excuses - if the looks Pieck and Jean gave were any indication - to spend time with each other, it became almost unbearable for Annie. She began to think about his confession on the boat on a daily basis, thinking it over. What if he didn’t feel that way anymore? What if he realised that she was a monster, and that she didn’t deserve someone as good as he was? What if - and this thought made Annie feel physically sick - he found another girl, and she was everything Annie couldn’t be?

It was only after Pieck had cornered her after she was caught staring openly at him for the umpteenth time that she sucked it up and decided she would confront these feelings. That was, until an incident on Paradis where a group of rogue Jeagerists decided that the current Commander of the Survey Corps needed to be replaced.

Now, it was known to those that knew him through training and the subsequent years that Armin didn’t excel physically. Though he had improved and filled out into himself in the years since he inherited the Colossal Titan, he would never reach the prowess of his other male comrades like Reiner, Jean, Connie, or Eren.

Though this information was never made ‘public’, it must have gotten out somewhere, and during an orientation for some new Scouts that Armin was overseeing, a group of young men broke away from the group and rushed him. Luckily, Armin was quick to react and defended himself until they almost overwhelmed him, but at that point, Jean and Connie reacted and dragged the attackers off him. Annie herself wasn’t with the group when it happened, instead away with Reiner discussing Marley things with Historia, but when she was notified of it, she was furious. Needless to say, the decision to give Armin a constant guard was non-negotiable, and it became clear to everyone else who wasn’t budging on being the one for the job.

Armin tried to protest the decision, saying he didn’t need a ‘babysitter’, but one look from Annie shut him up pretty quickly. He did confide to her later that he was grateful she was doing it, instead of some upstart young Scout, or even one of the boys in their group, claiming that they could become a bit suffocating in their insistence that he couldn’t defend himself at all.

The words left unsaid between them seemed to take a backseat as they now spent basically all their time together. Armin let his guard down around her, and she had to admit to herself that she couldn’t imagine her life without him at this point. There were some realisations within herself that she was scared to look at though. Once, Armin questioned whether she wanted to leave the group to go live with her father, since that seemed to always be her goal ever since she left for Paradis Island all those years ago.

Annie had spent time with her father early on in the months following the Rumbling, but had found herself drawn to working with Armin and the others, though was reluctant to leave her father initially. He assured her it was okay though, and encouraged her to get out and do something she enjoyed with her life. She still visited him regularly in Marley when she could.

They never openly acknowledged it, but the intimacy between Armin and Annie slowly began to increase. Armin had a couch in his study, and sometimes they would sit there together, Armin reading some book too boring for her to be interested in, and Annie would just relax. One afternoon, the sun was falling just right over her body, and she allowed herself to close her eyes. The next thing she knew, she had awoken to her cheek pressed into the fabric of Armin’s shoulder, one of his arms resting loosely around her shoulders. He was still reading in the fading dusk light, and when she shifted, he looked at her, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispered, smirking slightly. “Poor form of you, sleeping on the job, huh?”

He was teasing her. Annie pushed herself upright, fighting a yawn, failing to do so, all while shooting him an icy glare.

Armin just laughed.

Fuck.

Annie couldn’t maintain her icy demeanour at that. That damned laugh of his always broke all of her walls. She just huffed and turned her head, heat creeping up her neck. Armin’s laugh faded, and Annie glanced over at him. She was surprised to see him glancing at her sheepishly too.

“You know,” he mumbled, blushing, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “Uh, I don’t mind if you, you know, do that…”

Annie’s breath caught. Armin blushed harder, eyes averting.

“Uhm,” he continued, still resolutely not looking at her, “Hitch used to always say that you looked scary when you slept? But… you… don’t really, I think you look kinda cute actually and- oh?”

Annie had scooted closer to him during his ramblings, and, without a word, rested her head back onto his shoulder.

“You talk too much,” she grumbled, curling up beside him.

Armin huffed out a laugh, his arm returning to its spot around her shoulders.

They stayed like that until Annie fell asleep again, and the both of them had to be shaken awake by an amused looking Pieck, who smirked at Annie mischievously when the latter discovered Armin had wrapped her up in his arms, his cheek pressed up against her hair.

***

Some invisible barrier had broken between the two of them since that afternoon. Annie found herself sleeping on Armin in various different places whenever they sat together for extended periods of time, and he became more touchy, often grabbing onto her hands to lead her places and show her things, and being quite cuddly when she fell asleep on him, leading Annie to wake up pressed tightly against him, trapped by his arm.

They found themselves in a unique situation, and neither Annie nor Armin were oblivious to the rumours and giggles that followed the two of them around at Scout Headquarters. Their close friends wisely chose not to mention their growing intimacy, but that didn’t save them from the badly disguised stares and whispered speculation that erupted from Junior Scouts as the pair did their daily business around the grounds.

It didn’t help that Armin and Annie did absolutely everything together after the attack. The two didn’t say anything to each other, the only indication Annie got that Armin noticed it at all was his telltale habit of rubbing the back on his neck and hair when he got flustered or nervous when the whispers got a little too loud for comfort.

Things reached a peak one night after a long meeting negotiating new regiment leaders and discussing the rebel Jeagerists that seemed to be grouping up together again.

It was raining hard after a sudden downpour, and Armin and Annie were faced with the newly treacherous task of making their way across the grounds to their adjacent rooms in the Commander’s and Captain’s dorms.

They stood under an awning, peering through the darkness, trying to route a path that would result in the least amount of drenching. It didn’t seem possible.

“Well,” Annie said, “I suppose we can just have a shower after…”

“I guess… let’s go!”

Annie cried out in surprise as Armin grabbed her hand and yanked her along with him, and then they were off, running through the sheets of water and getting thoroughly soaked to the bone. Annie let herself go, and began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, and soon Armin joined her, their laughs getting lost in the roar of the rain.

Just as they reached their barracks, Annie’s foot landed in a particularly slippery patch of mud and she toppled over, gasping. She squeaked in shock as a pair of arms wrapped around her and saved her from a faceful of mud. Armin pulled her into him, and her palms flew up to grip his shirt at his chest. They stood there for a second, staring at each other, far closer than they had ever been before, chests heaving with exertion.

Armin’s arms tightened around her slightly.

“Are… are you okay?” he breathed.

Annie could feel his heart racing beneath her hands, and she suddenly became acutely aware of how fast her heart was going too. She nodded, breathless.

Armin didn’t seem to want to let her go. Annie found that she didn’t want him to either.

All of their interactions since his damned confession on the boat ran through her head. Annie took a breath. She had made up her mind. Enough of this dancing around one another. Just as the words building up in her head for months passed her lips, Armin spoke.

“Annie,” he said, eyes intensely focused on hers. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her chest caught.

“I…”

Feeling as though her entire life had led up to this moment, Annie abandoned any response she might have had on her tongue, gripped his shirt harder, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

She could feel the tension leave Armin’s shoulders, and he almost slumped into her, leaning down so she could stand flat-footed, kissing her back, hands sliding up her body to cradle her face. They broke apart, lost in their own little world, eyes locked.

“Wanna get married?”

Annie let loose an elated giggle, sure that this high she was on was never going to let her down. It was all too incredible to even describe.

“Yeah.”

***

Rumours about the Commander and his female companion had been the hot topic of Scout members for months. A set of questions regarding them circulated.

“Who’s that scary-looking lady who’s always with the Commander?”

“Is she some kind of new captain?”

“I heard she was his bodyguard!”

“No surely not, she’s too small for that, maybe she’s his assistant.”

Another smaller, more knowledgeable section of older Scouts found the pairing to be unbearable.

“She’s the Female Titan!”

“Why haven’t we killed her yet? You know how many Scouts she killed, right?”

“Why on earth does he seem to be friendly with her?”

“They look like some sort of couple! No way am I serving under someone fucking a traitor!”

The Commander and his female companion were very aware of the whispers, but they didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted, they thought.

One afternoon, an amused-looking Reiner was lounging about, supervising some of the younger recruits in their training. He heard some of their whispers, and laughed aloud.

“You guys don’t know?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “She’s no bodyguard. That’s his wife .”

Rumour has it the squeals of shock could be heard from across the grounds.

#aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhardt #attack on titan #chapter 139 spoilers

72 notes · View notes

hueswrites · 4 years

Text

hq kinktober [day2] hanamaki & matsukawa

main hq kinktober masterlist

hq kinktober [day2] hanamaki takahiro & matsukawa isseis - double penetration

includes:

simultaneous vaginal & anal sex, all consenting, established relationship, alcohol use

wordcount:

4,136

~~~

You lay in bed with your boyfriend, basking in a blissful post-sex haze while you let your eyes rest. The "ding" of a text coming through Takahiro's phone grabs your attention.

"I'm getting drinks with Issei," he says, rolling out of bed.

You glance at the time. "It's two in the afternoon," you state, giving him a disapproving glare.

"And?" He says, going to the bathroom to take a piss with the door wide open.

"I really wish you would find a job. Is Issei off today or something?"

"Nah. He had a shitty day and his dad let him leave early, so I'm going to keep him company."

You roll your eyes. "Must be nice working for daddy. Why don't you see if you can get a job with him?"

"He actually did say they need someone in the crematory, but I'm not burning up dead people for a living. Besides," he turns to look at you and winks. "You know you love having me here to cook, clean, and fuck you senseless at all hours of the day."

You roll your eyes. He had a point.

~~~

Takahiro finds Issei at the bar, halfway through his second beer and looking absolutely miserable. They greet each other with a nod and Takahiro takes the seat next to him. The bartender is is already cracking a bottle open of Takahiro's usual order, which happens to be the same exact beer Issei preferred to drink. He takes a good, lengthy sip then sets the frosty bottle down with an audible sigh of delight. He looks over at Issei. "Wanna talk about it?"

Issei groans. "No. I just wanna drink." He takes a sip of his beer.

Takahiro unzips his jacket and saunters it off his shoulders, then places it onto the empty stool beside him. He looks up at the top shelf of liquors behind the bar and racks through his brain for something to talk about that would help get his friend out of his slump. "Oikawa's visiting next week. Have you talked to him? You know that'll be a good time. Always is."

Issei only sighs in response. Well, shit. He was really down in the dumps. "I need to get laid, Makki," he grumbles.

Takahiro raises his eyebrows. "What happened with that one foreign chick? Thought you and her had a good thing going on."

"She found someone else. Said she felt like she was fucking the grim reaper and thought I'd end up giving her a curse from one of the dead bodies in the funeral home," he drops his head down onto his forearms and hides his face. "Said she couldn't get the image of dead, shriveled dick out of her head when we hooked up."

Takahiro laughs. "That's fucking weird," he says. "You don't even see the bodies. You just sell the caskets and help families through their grieving."

"Yeah, I know," he groans out in frustration. "I have a decent job making decent money and even have my own place... I guess that's the limit on the amount of good things I'm allowed to have in this life."

Takahiro scoffs. "Don't say that. You're doing really good. Shit, look at me. I've been unemployed for three months now, freeloading off my girlfriend-"

"Your hot girlfriend,"

Takahiro ignores him, continuing, "I'm in a shit ton of debt, and I've now watched every single season of that stupid Korean drama my girlfriend insisted would inspire me to change my life Honestly, that shit made me feel worse."

Issei manages a laugh and lifts his head back up, dark wavy hair now a tousled mess over his forehead. "Yeah, dude. You sound like a bum. Why does she keep you around?"

"I cook and I clean. And," a smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, "the sex is amazing."

Issei's head drops back down onto the bar top. "Fuck you," he mumbles into the sleeves of his shirt.

"You know, she is a model and a personal trainer. There's no way she doesn't have any single, cute girl friends that would be willing to hook up."

Issei sits back up and finishes his drink, the idea now seeming to lift his spirits. "If you could find someone that'd be interested in a gloomy, boring guy like me, then I'll pay your tab-"

Takahiro smiles and chugs the rest of his beer, then locks onto the bartender. "Another round on this guy's tab, please," he shouts.

Issei chuckles. "You better work some magic, asshole."

~~~

Takahiro returns home to your apartment to find you in the living room, drenched in sweat and in the middle of giving one of your online fitness classes. As you go through the motions of squats and burpees he takes a moment to admire the way your ass jiggles and resists the urge to give it a smack. You would kill him if you did such a thing in front of her clients, and probably withhold any sort of physical intimacy from him as punishment. It's amazing that you even have the energy to workout after your earlier exertion with him in bed.

He decides to make himself comfortable on at the kitchen counter and pulls out his phone, scrolling through your list of friends on Facebook. He didn't know half the people on your list, and he was pretty sure you didn't know them either. It made sense that a popular, attractive young woman such as yourself had so many connections. When the two of you started dating, you warned Takahiro about the amount of attention men (and women) gave you. It didn't bother Takahiro one bit. He loved knowing someone as attractive and talented as you was all his.

Issei may have had the career and the independence, but to Takahiro, you were all he needed. He loved to please you. The cooking and cleaning was no chore to him. You allowed him to stay at your apartment expecting nothing but his love and respect in return. And great sex. You were definitely just as kinky and open-minded as he is.

As his thoughts focused on you, he found himself remembering the early days of your relationship. He met you two years ago at a bar when Oikawa had been in town visiting for the holidays. Both he and Issei were instantly attracted to you. Oikawa noticed their attraction to you and was able to get your number in the blink of an eye. Imagine her disappointment when she learned that neither of the two numbers that texted her the next day belonged to that gorgeous brunette with big brown eyes and a voice as sweet as honey.

He and Issei made a game out of trying to woo you. In the end, you fell for Takahiro's boyish good looks and charming personality. Not that Issei wasn't charming or good looking - you just thought Takahiro had much more going for him, with his talk of wanting to be an entrepreneur and successful business man, while Issei went right into working for his parent's funeral home.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

It's then that an idea pops into Takahiro's head. He brings up his text conversation with Issei.

He sends a text: "Wanna have a threesome with me and ___?"

Issei responds almost instantly: "You serious?"

Takahiro chuckles to himself. He replies: "Let me ask her. I'll get back to you."

~~~

After your class is finished, you shower and get yourself ready for dinner. The news plays on the TV in the living room adjacent from your dining area, but you're not paying attention. You're trying to figure out why your boyfriend is so unusually quiet. He's been on his phone since the two of you sat down to eat, only taking a bite every couple of minutes.

"Hey, Hiro," you start, irritation laced through your voice. "What's wrong?"

"Issei is lonely," he says.

"That sucks," you say through a mouthful of rice.

"He needs to get laid."

You raise a brow. "Okay. How are you going to help him with that?"

"What do you think about letting him join in on our fun?"

You spit out your food.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He smirks, eyes still on his phone. "Would you fuck him?"

"Takahiro. I'm not even gonna answer that question."

Takahiro hums. "His dick is bigger than mine, you know."

Your face flushes red. "Are you really being serious right now?"

"Yeah. You know he's always had the hots for you. Don't you find him attractive? You did back then, I know that's a fact."

You pause as if to consider. "He's cute. I never liked his hair though. He needs to cut it."

Takahiro snorts. "Babe. Think about it. You already know each other, and you said having a threesome is on your list of sexual fantasies you want to try."

"How do you know about my list?!"

Takahiro skims over your question and continues. "So is that a yes or a no?"

"But he's your best friend."

"Yeah, and that's why it'll be fun!"

You really did want to check off having a threesome from your list.

You let out a huff and frown. "Let me think about it."

Takahiro beams and starts tapping away on his phone. "Okay, so is Friday good with you?"

"Takahiro!" You shout, shooting him your best crazy eyes. You grit your teeth. "I have a class Friday night. Let's do it Saturday."

Takahiro to Issei: She’s in. You free Saturday night?

~~~

Saturday finally arrives, and you and Takahiro are both getting ready to leave your apartment for the night.

"I'm gonna need alcohol before we do this," you said as you rolled on deodorant.

Takahiro is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. "Aww, you nervous, babe?" he garbled through his spit and toothpaste.

"Yes, Hiro. You're gonna be watching your best friend fuck me."

"Issei and I are cool like that. Always have been."

Silence follows, and Takahiro looks at you through the mirror. You've stopped packing your things and are sitting on your bed, gazing off into space. He frowns. "You know you don't have to do this if it's making you uncomfortable. I'm not gonna force you to do anything you're not sure you want to do."

You look up and glare back at him through the mirror. "I know that, idiot," and then you smile. "I'm just being a brat."

Takahiro rinses his mouth and gives his hair one last comb through before leaving the bathroom and walking over to you. He bends down to give you a kiss and ruffles your hair with his hand. "I love my little brat. Wouldn't have you any other way."

You reach up and cradle his face in your hands. "Love you too."

~~~

The three of you decided to have drinks at the bar in the hotel's lobby Issei had paid for your night together. You told Takahiro that you would feel more comfortable away from home, somewhere that you could let loose and not have to worry about cleaning up afterwards.

The conversation had mostly been the two of them reminiscing on their high school and college years, with you slurping your drink and giggling in between their exchanges. "You guys really chose to go to the same college so you could remain friends?"

Takahiro idly stirs his drink, keeping his eyes on you. Your cheeks are flushed red and your eyes are glossed over, an obvious sign that you were pretty buzzed. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, even offering little flirty comments Issei's way here and there. Takahiro thought it was adorable.

"Once Oikawa and Iwaizumi went away, everything got really boring. Making new friends is a pain," Issei explained. "I don't think other people would be able to handle our sense of humor. We like to make jabs at each other, and other people take things too seriously."

Takahiro hums in agreement. "I hate when people can't take a joke."

You finish your cocktail and the tiny little hiccup that escapes your lips has Takahiro looking at you with adoration. "I don't think many best friends would be down to fuck the other's girlfriend, either." You giggle.

Both men blushed at your blunt observation. Takahiro cleared his throat. "Uhh, you wanna get the check and skedaddle, Issei?"

Issei swallowed the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the table. "You always read my mind, Makki."

~~~

The three of you are stripping yourselves naked as soon as you enter the hotel room. You were the first one on the bed, waiting rather impatiently for someone to start giving you attention. Takahiro was quick to climb after you, having discarded his clothes onto the floor. He placed kisses all over your face and your neck, sucking onto your breasts and pinching your hips. You squirmed underneath his touch, curling your toes in delight.

Issei goes to sit in the chair at the side of the room, and the sound of air leaving the cushion as he plops down causes you and Takahiro to stop what you're doing and look up at Issei. "What are you doing?" Takahiro asks, confused.

"M'gonna sit back and watch you two," Issei says. "Lemme see how amazing fire crotch over here really is."

"Watch it, dickhead. I'm no fire crotch. My hair's strawberry brown, idiot." Takahiro growls, returning his attention back to you. He towers over you, eyeing you hungrily. "You ready for this, baby?"

~~~

Takahiro's got two of his fingers deep inside your cunt, pumping into your sloppy, wet heat with determination to get you all warmed up for what's to come. You feel the mattress dip behind you and shiver as a second pair of hands lands on your body. Issei finally had enough as a bystander and was ready to join the action. He presses his lips to your back, between your shoulder blades, and massages his thumbs into your hips.

"Feeling good, baby?" Takahiro mumbles into your ear.

"Mmhm," you nod, both of your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. Issei hums and slides his hands up to caress your breasts. You lean your head back against him and sigh.

"You're so soft," he says behind you, giving your nipples a squeeze. You moan.

"Tell Issei how you want to be touched," Takahiro says as he continues to work his fingers down between your legs.

"Just keep touching me like that," you breath, voice shaky.

Takahiro slides his fingers out from you and pulls back just a bit, looking at you with dark, heavy eyes. He takes in the sight of Issei's large hands enveloping your breasts, the way you pant softly through parted lips, and the rise and fall of your chest just under your collar bone. The sight makes him groan. He leans back against the headrest and strokes himself slowly.

You take one of your hands and place it over Issei's to pull it away from your breast and down to your stomach. He takes the hint and brings his fingers down further to start massaging your clit. You can feel his length pressing into the small of your back, slight moisture from the tip sticking to your skin. His fingers spread your lower lips and he smears your juices over your hole, teasing your entrance.

"Show me how good you suck Makki's dick," he mumbles against your neck.

You oblige and lean forward onto your hands, pressing one down into the mattress on each side of your boyfriend's legs.

Takahiro watches with anticipation as you lower yourself down to his hard, swollen cock. You pause to tuck your hair behind your ears and the simple action makes his heart flutter. He lets out a pleased groan as you wrap your lips around the tip.

Issei dips two of his fingers into your cunt and you moan around Takahiro's cock. He responds by placing a hand on your head, encouraging you to take him deeper.

You swirl your hips against the palm of Issei's hands like a feline swaying her tail. Takahiro's cock is deep into your mouth now, touching the back of your throat. You press your tongue against the sensitive underside as you suck your way back up, tracing the vein that protrudes through his thin skin.

Takahiro groans. "Fuck, yes," he sighs, tangling his fingers into your hair. "You are such a good girl."

Issei's roused by the sight of Takahiro melting into the bed, and suddenly feels like the luckiest guy in the world for having such a generous friend. He inserts a third finger.

You feel so full and so content. The surge of love you feel towards your boyfriend has you removing yourself from his dick to lean forward even more and plant a tender kiss to his lips. "This feels so good, Hiro," you tell him.

He grins. "I knew you'd like it, babe."

You raise yourself to stand upright on your knees and turn to meet Issei's lascivious gaze. "Let me suck you off," you say, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to stop his hand from working you any further.

"Please do," he says with a smirk. He shuffles back and collapses onto the bed, spreading his legs invitingly.

You lean down and press a kiss to Issei's stomach, then open your mouth wide to take him in. He is larger than Takahiro, so you have to widen your jaw more than what you're used to.

Takahiro watches, sliding his fingers through your hair. "You're so sexy, babe," he says, then sits up and grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He figures now is the time to start working your little pucker open. He comes to kneel behind you and pours a generous amount of lube onto your ass and spreads it through your crack. He takes a slicked up finger and circles it around your tight little hole, easing the very tip in and out as he goes. "God, I love your ass," he says before giving it a light smack.

"Her mouth is something else, Makki." Issei sighs, rolling his head back to rest against the headboard. His hip stutter and buck up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat by surprise. You grab onto his thighs and muffle a choke. "Shit, sorry," he says, but you're quick to take him back even deeper. The tickle of your nose against his stomach has him groaning loudly.

Takahiro licks his lips and slowly presses one finger into your tight hole. "Tell me if it hurts," he says, pushing his finger past his first knuckle. He pumps it slowly, feeling your muscles loosen ever so slightly. You tense when he inserts the second finger.

"Wait," you tell him, removing yourself from Issei's cock. Takahiro stops and rubs your back softly as the sting of the stretch fades away. "Okay, go ahead."

Issei inches himself back a bit to sit more upright and grabs his cock with his hand. "I'm good for now, darlin'. Just focus on feeling good." You give Issei an appreciative smile before rising up to wrap your arm around Takahiro's neck.

"More," you whisper, pushing your ass back into his hand. Takahiro inserts a third finger and you contract around him, causing a low rumble to send vibrations from his chest into your back.

Issei is back to stroking his cock as he watches Takahiro fuck his fingers into your ass. You play with your clit, the action making your legs shake. Takahiro takes his free hand and pushes yours aside, inserting his own finger into your cunt. "More," you whimper, grabbing onto his forearm. He inserts another finger, and picks up the pace.

"You feeling good, baby?" He asks you.

"So good," you whine.

Issei groans, stroking his cock faster.

Takahiro nuzzles your chin and gives you a kiss. "You wanna try riding Issei first?" he mumbles.

You nod. Takahiro removes both his hands from your body and sits back to catch his breath. You move to straddle Issei's waist and take his cock into your hand. He places both of his hands on your hips and gives you a devilish little smirk. "Ever think you'd fuck a cock bigger than his?"

You snort a laugh through your nose.

"Fuck off," Takahiro retorts from behind.

You lower yourself onto Issei's length, the stretch sending little shockwaves of pleasure through out your body. He squeezes your hips and encourages you to keep lowering your self, watching your expression the entire time.

"How's she feel?" Takahiro asks, keeping his eyes on your cunt as it swallows Issei's cock.

"Fucking amazing," he breathes, slowing rocking his hips up into you. "Not sure how long I can last."

Takahiro moves forward onto his knees. He leans over you and kisses your ear. "Think you can take two?" he says.

"Yes, please."

Issei slides down the headboard just a bit so you can hover further forward over his chest and raise your ass. You feel a wad of lube drop onto your asshole and slide down between your cheeks. Takahiro smears the liquid around inserts his finger into your hole again, just to be sure you're still ready. He removes his finger and then presses the head of his cock to your entrance. He pauses. "You good?"

"Yeah," you breathe.

He slides in slow. You have to place your hand back onto his thigh to tell him to stop while you ease into the feeling of being stretched and filled in both holes.

"Deep breaths, baby," Takahiro says, watching the muscles in your back twitch. You inhale deeply, then exhale and relax.

"Okay."

Takahiro starts to move, and Issei follows. You simply hold yourself still while both men work on finding a rhythm that lets them move together comfortably. One of your hands comes down to rest under your belly button, and you swear you feel the bulge of Issei's cock inside you.

You try taking your mind off the slight discomfort your body is feeling at such an unnatural stretch. The squelching between your legs, Issei's labored breathing as he tries so hard not to cum, the rumble of Takahiro's deep voice giving you all sorts of little praises - "good girl, you feel so good, you're doing so well, I love you so much," and your own voice getting louder as any discomfort you were feeling melts into pleasure.

"I need one of you to touch me," you say through shallow breaths, your body shaking, your hands grasping onto their arms.

"Issei," Takahiro says, quickening his pace. "Make my girlfriend cum."

Issei obliges and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles. Your body tightens up around them as you cum, moans sounding like cries as your mind struggles to handle the intensity of your orgasm,

"Oh, shit," Issei groans. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum inside," you urge.

"You sure?"

You nod, and Issei increases his pace. He grips your hips tightly and groans as his load spills inside you.

You lean forward and give him a kiss, which he can hardly return in his current state.

Suddenly you're yanked back by your hair and pressed against Takahiro's chest, his arm snaking its way around your waist to hold you against him firmly. Issei's cock leaves your body, and Takahiro gives you one good thrust, cumming long and heavy into your ass. He lets out a string of curses into your hair, holding you tight.

His chest is heaving, having emptied every last drop.

Your head spins and your thighs are numb. "Hiro... I need to lay down," you say, tapping your hand against his arm.

"Mm," is all he can mumble before letting you go. You crawl forward and curl up onto your side next to Issei. Takahiro falls to your other side and sandwiches you in the middle.

"Fuck, that was amazing," Issei says, running a hand through his damp, curly locks of hair.

Takahiro groans in agreement, pressing his palm to his forehead, eyes closed.

The three of you lay there, catching your breath.

Takahiro rolls onto his side to face you. "What'd you think, babe?" he asks.

You hum blissfully, eyes closed. "I loved it. Let's do it again sometime."

Takahiro gives your ass a squeeze in appreciation, then reaches over to slap Issei's chest.

"Ow," Issei says, opening his eyes to see Takahiro's hand hovering above his face. He raises one of his own arms and curls his hand into a fist, smacking it against Takahiro's.

You laugh. "Did you guys just fist bump?"

"Sure did," Takahiro says, grinning proudly.

You roll your already aching body over onto your stomach and stuff your face into the pillow.

"Idiots."

#hq smut #hq kinktober 2020 #hq x reader #reader x hq #hanamaki takahiro x reader #reader x hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei x reader #issei matsukawa x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut

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cripplingaddictions · 4 years

Text

Bakugo x Reader: Confession

Summary: After Bakugo’s mental breakdown with Midoriya outside the dorms, you take it upon yourself to get him to open up. Of course it isn’t easy, but you two had known each other for years. Bakugo realises how he really feels and claims you as his own.

Rating: SFW

Genre: Fluff, angst, lime

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: I love comfort fluff and tending to wound tropes... and I also used the headcanon that Bakugo needs hearing aids, so that is included in this fic. I’m also sorry about the slow updates... I’ll have some headcanons out for haikyuu in the new future so stay tuned!

The crisp night air flooded through the open windows as you held a warm drink in your chilly hands. A fluffy blank landed on your shoulders as Mina deposited them off to everyone. You shifted yourself to meet Mina’s extraordinary eyes, nodding in thanks. Mina returned with a cheery smile of her own.

All the girls of 1A populated the couches, basking in the much needed warmth. A few boys sat amongst you, such as Kaminari, Kirishima, Ojiro, and Sero. Mineta desperately cried for help, wrapped in a cocoon of Sero’s tape after a perverted comment directed at Momo. Todoroki did as he always did, awkwardly standing slightly adjacent to the lively group, a keen but kind eye flickering between classmates as they contributed to the conversation.

“Everyone!” Iida marched up to your group, “Leaving the windows open in this weather is incredibly irresponsible! You will all get a cold!” His rapidly chopping hands paused momentarily to hurriedly pull all the windows shut.

“Thanks, emergency exit!” Kirishima waved at the class representative. A satisfied expression washed over Iida’s face.

You rolled your eyes, slightly smiling at them, before taking a prolonged sip of your warm beverage. Without spilling it, you pulled your legs up on the couch to cross them.

The class was happily celebrating a successful hero licensing exam. All but Bakugo and Todoroki. Hagakure and Momo had insisted they could join you too. It didn’t surprise you that Todoroki showed up but Bakugo didn’t, for one of them took it a lot worse than the other.

Bakugo was your childhood friend, knowing him since forever. There wasn’t a time you didn’t know each other, but not quite outdating him knowing Midoriya. You never really announced yourselves as “friends”, per se. It more so happened by consistently interacting, never really introducing yourselves. One of those friendships that “just happened”, neither of you remembering when you really met each other. Turns out, your mothers had been friends for years prior.

As you two grew older, and Bakugo became more and more like... himself, you did not condemn for anything he would say to Midoriya, being quirkless. Luckily, you happened to manifest a fairly powerful quirk, so he never judged you for it. He could never find himself to explode at you whenever you told him to back off. He may yell, but it never went further than petty insults. Of course, Mitsuki would have been appalled with him if he did. She definitely had a soft spot for you.

Once starting at UA, Bakugo’s ego slowly but surely began to deflate. He began to obtain standards, something that surprised you plenty. You noticed how he acted around Kirishima. That was when you realised the difference between how he treated all his peers. He seemed to rank them - most worthy of his friendship and time to least. Upon witnessing Kirishima - someone pretty high in those “ranks” - interact with him, you noticed the outside perspective. How nice he was to you and Kirishima, compared to people like Midoriya.

Eventually, you grew an odd feeling in your chest whenever he showed up to class. Top buttons undone and without a tie. Or when you caught a glimpse of his ember swirling eyes. Not to mention during training, rocking up in that hero costume of his.

You even began to play a little game. Testing him to see how long you could pester, order, or genuinely annoy him before he literally exploded at you. More and more of late, that time stretched. Unfortunately, your little experiment didn’t go unnoticed. All the girls of 1A knew, questioning you about it. You passed it off as something you thought would be funny. Only Mina saw right through you. She knew you liked him and constantly teased you about it to no end. Midoriya and Kirishima were the only others to notice you pushing his buttons more than usual lately.

Uraraka’s voice broke through your elaborate train of thought, “Y/N...”

“Yeah?” You answered.

“Do you have any idea where Deku is?” Her voice trembled slightly, her cheeks going slightly pinker as she rubbed the back of her neck. She couldn’t be more obvious about her crush on Midoriya, so you had nothing to worry about. “He hasn’t come back since Bakugo said he wanted to talk to him. I’m kind of worried about him.”

A huff left your lips, “In all honesty, I am too. There’s no telling what Bakugo wanted to talk to him about.”

“He might be seeking girl advice,” Mina chimed in, sending a sly wink in your direction.

You immediately took a long sip of your drink, hoping the cup hid your slight blush as you furrowed your eyebrows at Mina.

“I highly doubt it,” Tsuyu placed a finger to her chin in thought, “I’m not sure that Bakugo would need that kind of advice. Especially not from Midoriya.” Your gaze fell.

“He probably wants to kill him,” Jirou shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip from her own drink.

Jirou’s comment silenced the group of 1A girls. Only condescending sipping of drinks and the guys chattering filled your ears. Your attention left your drink to the sound of shuffling feet approaching. Bright yellow eyes met yours when the source of the shuffling feet sat beside you.

“Ladies,” Kaminari’s smooth voice wooed as he rested his arms on the back of the couch, “What’re you guys talking about?”

Dyed red hair, held up by a graphic bandana, flashed your peripheral vision as Kirishima took a seat next to you. He pouted slightly when you flashed him an almost sarcastic smile. The pout couldn’t mask that he could see right through you. Worry for Bakugo plagued your mind. There was no doubt Midoriya had improved his ability to use his quirk. If Bakugo had indeed wanted to fight him, he definitely underestimated him.

“I’m sure he’s just in bed, Y/N,” Kirishima placed a hand on your shoulder, “It is way past eight-thirty.”

You stifled a small giggle, nodding at Kirishima’s words and mentally thanked him for his optimistic nature. You continued to sip your drink in silence, occasionally tuning in to Mina and Kaminari’s chaotic conversation. Overall, you felt the homeliness of this family created through 1A. A homeliness soon to be destroyed.

A loud bang caused everyone to close their mouths, the worst case scenario filled your head. Luckily, when you followed it to its source, it came to a slammed door. An easy answer came to your mind; the wind. However, standing before the door stood Bakugo and Midoriya. Both definitely looking a bit rough around the edges. A gauze on each cheek, they looked defeated. They refused to reach each other’s eyes, or any other pair staring them.

You cautiously planted your cup on the coaster before you, as if you were afraid of agitating Bakugo, easily spotting the anger and emotion in his ruby eyes.

“Bakugo and Midoriya!” Iida rushed over to them in a flash, his arms chopping up and down in anger, “Where on earth have you been? Why do you look like you just got into another brawl with some villains?”

“Shut the hell up, four-eyes,” Bakugo snapped, grumbling to himself. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, before storming past the couches.

Before anyone could stop you, you leapt to your feet. Your drink left behind, you rushed after Bakugo. The blanket around your shoulders flowed behind you like a cape, you called out to the angry blond, “Bakugo!”

Bakugo ignored you, continuing up the stairs. Hurriedly, you sped up the stairs and overtook him.

Your body blocked his, “Bakugo, what the hell happened?”

His head continued to hang low, his blond hair falling to obscure his eyes from view as you desperately tried to meet them. Scratches, grazes and cuts littered his face and arms, some covered up with gauze. The two gauzes on his cheeks mirrored each other, lightly stained in blood. Dust and dirt smudged up his arms; his wounds weren’t properly cleaned. His hands stuffed in his baggy sweatpants shook slightly, from both physical and emotional pain.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Bakugo’s wavering voice protested, failing at any attempted aggression, “I don’t need to tell you shit.”

You heaved in a shaky breath, “True, but I want to know. I might be able to help you.”

“You can’t help me,” his voice raised, causing you to step back. You really wished you could see his eyes, to see what kind of pain he was in.

“You won’t know that until you tell me what’s wrong,” you sighed, trying your best to stay calm and not snap back.

“Get out of my way...”

Bakugo harshly barged his shoulder into yours, causing you to stumble to the side slightly. You stepped after him as he continued to his dorm, the most likely place you imagined he would storm off to. You caught up again, flinging an arm out in front of him. His warm, sweaty hand latched onto your forearm. Your heart skipped a beat, relishing the ironically soft touch.

However, the softness of his touch contradicted his tone, “Y/N, move... right now...”

“Bakugo!” You cried, not afraid of the slightly startled boy before you.

You didn’t budge or flinch as you laced your fingers between the ones he gripped onto your forearm with. With a soft touch, you lifted his chin upwards to get a perfect view of his face.

His cut up face held the softest expression you had ever seen. No crease sat between his eyebrows, grazes over his forehead. The gauzes taped to his cheeks hid the worst of his face injuries, letting a small amount of blood to seep through it. His eyes glistened with tears, about to be spilt. They stung red, from previous tears.

Katsuki Bakugo stood before you, with tears in his eyes.

The Katsuki Bakugo.

“You can tell me, you know,” You hushed, once his bloodshot eyes met your sympathetic ones, “I’ve always been there for you, like when you got your hearing aids.”

One hand still holding his, you let the other one slip up to expose the small black device in his left ear. It wrapped around the back, resting behind his ear. A soft sympathetic smile graced your features, as Bakugo squeezed his eyes shut. He entered a vulnerable state, allowing you to wrap an arm around his lower neck and pull him into a hug.

“Please...” You whispered, “It’s better if you let it all out.”

Bakugo awkwardly stepped out of the hug, slipping his hand out of your grip. His eyebrows creased again, squinting his eyes to hold back any tears. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and refused to meet your eyes again.

“I’m just fucking pissed!” He raised his voice again, “I’m pissed at myself. At damn Deku! How did he become someone so damn special? And I didn’t!? When I finally get fucking recognised for something... it’s because I ended All Might! Why me?”

Your breath hitched. All of Bakugo’s pain unloaded onto you. All Might’s end happened a small while ago. He held this guilt in for that long? No wonder he was angry. In a way, you felt privileged and relieved Bakugo opened up to you. You always tried to be there for him. You wished you could have been there earlier, to stop him ever feeling like this in the first place.

“Bakugo...” You hushed his uneven breathing. It almost sounded like he was about to have a panic attack, “You couldn’t have prevented it. No one knew that it was going to happen. The last person who should be blaming themselves is you.”

“I could have done something! All I did was stand and watch. I left as soon as I saw you call out to me. Damn it!”

“Look at me, Bakugo,” digging into his pockets, you removed his hands from them and held them in your own, “If you didn’t leave when I called you, not only All Might would have ended. You would have too. And I don’t know what I would ever do if you did.”

A sharp inhale came from Bakugo’s parted lips, before he trailed off, “Da-damn it...”

“I care about you, Baku,” you let your thumbs run small uncoordinated circles on the back of his warm veiny hands. You couldn’t force yourself to look into his eyes, afraid of how he would respond. “I care more than you can ever imagine.”

“I- I-, fuck...” He couldn’t form sentences, let alone words. You, of course, couldn’t blame him. Not only because of his current emotional state, but you knew it would take a little bit more to get something so sincere out of Bakugo.

“It’s okay,” you finally met his red eyes, trying to mask the glossiness of your own, “It’s okay if you don’t return my feelings... I won’t take it too harshly.”

A small cocky grin slid its way onto Bakugo’s disheartened features, “Who said I didn’t, baka.”

Little giggles left your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck. A newfound sense of confidence filled you. Not only did you let the burden of your confession lift off your chest, but he reciprocated the feelings. You couldn’t wait to tell Mina all about it.

“Now...” All sadness and sorrow had drained from Bakugo, a sudden huskiness melted off his words, “Let me claim you as mine.”

“Wait, wha-” Without warning, Bakugo cut you off by pushing you forward towards the elevator at the end of the corridor. A small laugh left you again upon witnessing the determination - no matter what it was for - return to Bakugo. The Katsuki Bakugo you knew and loved was back.

Without letting go of your wrist, Bakugo frantically pressed the elevator button, “Hurry up, you damn elevator!”

“Yelling at it want make it come faster, you know.”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

Once the elevator pinged, the doors slid open. Bakugo rushed you inside, turning around to watch as the doors slid shut again. No words were spoken, both of you urgently watching the elevator travel up to the level his dorm stood located in. You adjusted your hand in Bakugo’s grip, only for him to squeeze your hand tighter. The small action caused a tiny smile to tug at your lips in satisfaction. Damn, it felt good to finally have him.

The travelling between the elevator and Bakugo’s dorms happened so quickly it was all a blur. The only thing you knew was the sound of the door slamming behind you, before you were back up against the wall beside it.

Bakugo’s rough, calloused hands pinned your wrists to your side. There was no time to protest before the gap between you two closed. Your lips roughly fought against his a loosing battle. His lips felt chapped but soft at the same time. The taste of nitroglycerin lingered between your lips, the smell of caramel wafting into your nostrils. His hands let go of your wrists, finding a new home firmly on your hips only to press you further against the wall. Hands now free, they rushed into his hair. Silky blond locks weaved in and out of your fingers before you ran them down his neck to grip his shoulders.

The tickling of his tongue on your bottom lip begged your lips open, allowing it to slip inside your mouth. You desperately fought against his rough movements, only to lose. He took complete dominance as he slipped a knee between your thighs and propped you even further up the wall. In retaliation, you wrapped your legs around his waist, so he supported your full weight. Your crotch shamelessly pressed against his lower abdomen.

A gasp left your mouth as his warm hands glided up your curves and beneath your shirt. Bakugo’s skilled fingers ran patterns on the soft skin of your back, sending countless satisfied shivers up your spine. Your mouths continued to move in sink as his fingers slid along the skin just beneath your bra. The moan that escaped your mouth sent a wicked smirk onto Bakugo’s lips. Without warning, Bakugo’s lips left yours and attached to the soft skin of your jaw. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access to trail kisses down the curve of your neck. At the same time, one of his hands ran to the clasp of your bra. He fiddled with it, desperately trying to unclasp it before he gave up and detached his warm mouth from your neck.

“Damn it,” his warm moist breath tickled your neck, “How does this shitty thing work?”

You let a laugh leave your lips as you arched your back for your own hands to slip up your shirt. In an instant, you had detached it. The bra lacked straps, causing it to immediately drop to the floor.

A growl left Bakugo as he began sucking on the soft flesh of your neck. His warm, wet tongue pressed and flicked against it. The occasional sensation of his teeth grazing over your neck made a shiver slide up your spine. Bakugo’s large hands travelled back to the front, fanning over you exposed breasts. They travelled over them until he lightly fondled them in his hand, squeezing gently. Your hands on his shoulders quickly gripped onto the fabric of his black tank top. One of his thumbs flicked over your hardened nipple, causing his name to fall from your mouth in a pleasurable moan.

Bakugo greedily grunted, whispering against your neck, “Yeah, I like that, Y/N...”

His tongue continued to trail over your skin, sucking and flicking until he pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open, leaning down to press your forehead against his. Slowly, Bakugo’s hands trailed back down your sides and pulled out of your shirt. Your feet made it safely back down to the ground. When you attempted to meet Bakugo’s eyes, you found them trailing over purple bruises covering your neck, continuing up to the start of your jaw.

“Now you’re mine,” Bakugo brought you into a safe hug, letting you rest your head into the crevice of his neck. Your eyes squeezed shut again, delving yourself completely into his sent of caramel.

“As far as first kisses go,” you teased, letting a cheeky grin slide onto your face, “that wasn’t half bad.”

“Damn well, it wasn’t half bad!” His voice lifted higher, a familiar angry tone taking over. An even bigger smile came to your face once you realised he had almost completely forgotten the predicament he was in previously. “That better have been the best kiss ever!”

A little string of laughs left you, “Yeah, yeah. It was the best. You got me there.”

The silence continued for a little longer, until Bakugo retreated out of the hug. He cleared his throat before turning away from you. You took the opportunity to rush to his mirror, observing the damage he had done. A dozen or so purple hickies littered across your neck. They travelled all the way to your jaw and almost your ears. It would take a lot of foundation to cover those up, you thought.

“I’m definitely yours, it seems,” you turned to Bakugo, who only grunted, “I almost look as beat up as you.”

“I’m fine,” came his reply.

“You still need to clean those wounds and cover them up.”

“I don’t need Recovery Girl.”

“No, we shouldn’t bother Recovery Girl right now. I’d be happy to do it for you in the girls bathroom. Mr Aizawa is long gone, don’t worry about him catching us.”

“What about your annoying extras?”

“If any of the girls come in, I’m sure they’ll understand and make a pretty quick exit. I promise.”

Bakugo huffed in reply as you tilted your head in the direction of the door. You made your way to the door. As you reached out for the door handle, a bundle of black was thrown at you.

“Cover up, damn it,” Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets and joined you by the door, “You don’t even have a bra on.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hurriedly unfolded the black clothing item, to find it was one of Bakugo’s plain black hoodies. You slipped it over your head and let it drop down a little further than your hoodies usually would. Caramel scent engulfed you, making it clear it hadn’t been washed since the last wear. Normally, that would disgust you, but it was your boyfriend’s. You plotted how long you were going to hold onto it in your head as you bundled the hood around your neck.

You gestured to yourself, only to receive a shrug from Bakugo. The shrug couldn’t hide the tiny reddish tint on his cheeks from the sight of you in his clothes. A victorious smile made it to your face, and you opened the door.

The journey to the girl’s bathrooms was uninterrupted. You led him there, linking pinkies the whole way. He hesitated to walk through the door, after all it was the female bathroom. The door shut suddenly behind you as you pointed Bakugo to sit on the bathroom counter. Swinging open the cabinet above the sink, you pulled out a small box of first aid supplies. You placed you hands on your hips after allocating the box a spot next to Bakugo.

“Take your shirt off,” you demanded, the authoritative tone desperately hiding the redness of your ears.

“Why?” Bakugo grumbled, mocking you with arms crossed.

“So I can see if you have any further injuries,” You opened the first aid box, pulling out a dry rag. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Bakugo lifting his tank top over his head to reveal his toned chest and abs as you ran cold water over the rag. Wringing it of excess water, you turned to see him checking himself over for any injuries.

“Nothing,” Bakugo bluntly replied.

“Yes, but your ribs are bruised,” you pointed at the green patches of flesh along his sides. The mirror didn’t indicate any wounds or bruises on his back. Without warning, you dragged the moist rag over the bruises. A few droplets of water rolled down his chiseled stomach as he pulled back.

“That shit is cold!” Bakugo exclaimed, “I’m getting wet now, damn it!”

“It’s a rag with water, what did you expect?” You hummed, continuing to trace the bruised ribs softly with the rag. You leaned over the counter to grab hold of his closest hand, resting your sover it. “Stay still.”

Once you had finished, you gently gripped one of his forearms. The cloth traced his skin, washing it clean. You had to scrub it softly at some points, but avoided any of the open grazes and cuts. You travelled the cloth to run over his biceps, this time lightly dabbing at the largest graze. Your skilled hands couldn’t hide the blush on your face, especially with his fiery eyes watching your every move. They occasionally shifted to your concentrated features.

The cloth quickly passed over his shoulders and chest, before repeating the process on his other arm. This one wasn’t as scratched up as the other, making your job a lot simpler. Once you finished, you took a step back over to the sink.

“You’re probably gonna hate what I’m about to do,” you sighed, wringing out the rag after rinsing it.

“What are you gonna do?” He demanded, less agitated than he usually would be.

You didn’t answer with words but with your actions. Stopping the dripping of the rag, you dragged it around the gauze on his cheek. His hand swiped up, grabbing your wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.

“Die shitty rag! How dare you come near my face!”

A full hearted laugh left your lips, your head tilting back, “I’m trying to help you, baka. Please let me.”

Bakugo studied your face for a short while, until he ripped his eyes away, “Fine.” He left his cheek exposed, letting you place the rag back onto it. All the dust and ash had been scrubbed from his cheeks and nose. You softly dragged the rag over his forehead, softly dabbing it over a shallow graze. Once, your hand pulled away, you leaned up to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Are you done?” Bakugo rolled his eyes, pressing his bare back against the mirror.

You shook your head, “Nope. Not even close.” You placed the damp rag in the sink, digging around in the first aid box again. Bakugo groaned in annoyance, causing you to smile and shake your head again.

Cold plastic slipped between your finger tips - a small bottle of antiseptic. Pulling it out, you placed a few cotton balls next to it. Carefully, you dropped a small amount of antiseptic onto the cotton ball. You lifted it towards Bakugo, who grimaced at the sight.

“I can’t promise this won’t hurt,” you hissed in empathy, hesitantly detaching he hand from the counter. Pulling his arm closer, you dabbed the cotton ball onto one of the shallow grazes on his forearm.

Bakugo immediately pulled back, “Antiseptic can die!” You smiled, knowing that was his way of saying that it stung.

“It’s gonna sting a little bit,” you rolled your eyes, “I did tell you that.”

Your hand swiped out to grab his wrist in it again as he constantly ripped it away, “Katsuki Bakugo! It’ll get infected and hurt even more if you don’t let me do this!” You exclaimed in a playful seriousness.

“Say that again,” the grimace on Bakugo!s face dropped, his features now softer.

“It’ll get infected?”

“No, baka. My name.”

“Your name? Katsuki Bakugo?”

The smirk on his face now unmistakable, he placed a hand on your waist, “Yeah, call me Katsuki. I like when you say my name.”

A similar smirk crossed your face as you placed a hand over his on your waist. Without warning him, you took the cotton ball and frantically dabbed it onto the next graze. Katsuki grunted, whipping his arm out of your reach.

His eyes remained glued in the victimised graze, “What the hell? That was a dirty trick!”

“It worked, though,” you replied, drenching a new cotton ball in antiseptic, “That’s all that matters.”

“Whatever.”

Eventually, he gave up fighting against you, allowing you to finish applying antiseptic to grazes and cuts on his arms and shoulders without much fuss. You left the injuries covered by the gauze on his cheeks alone, immediately tending to the largest and most tender graze on his forehead. With your free hand, you pushed back his blond hair that shaded it. You kept that hand lovingly caressing the start of his hairline, while the other hesitantly dabbed at the graze.

Katsuki hissed through his teeth, causing you to slip your hand down the side of his face. You held his cheek in your palm and sent him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you placed the cotton ball down into the small pile of used ones under Katsuki’s observant gaze.

“I think I’m going to leave that one exposed. It needs to dry out to heal properly,” you explained thoroughly. A grunt left Katsuki as you pulled out more gauzes and a roll of bandage.

After a silent moment, you had successfully wrapped up his entire right forearm in a bandage. A large gauze covered a wide but shallow graze on his left shoulder and a couple of smaller ones littered over some small ones on his left bicep.

As you began to quietly pack up the first aid box, you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist. You stood on your tippy-toes to place it back in the cabinet, only for the limbs to wrap around you tighter. Katsuki’s breathtaking red eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror, where you swayed in his arms in contentment.

“When I’m let off this shitty house arrest,” Katsuki grumbled into your marked neck from your previous activities, “I’m taking you out.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, leaning your head against his, “I’d love to, Katsuki.”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

A giggle left your lips, leaving both of you happy as you stood in each other’s arms.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo imagines #bnha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagines #mha x reader #mha imagines #katsuki x reader

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dog-day-morning · 3 years

Text

THE TRUTH AND SHAKA ZULU WILL KILL YOU

In a once-popular commercial for Calgon detergent in the 1970s, a curious housewife probes the Chinese owner of the local laundry for the answer to one of the world’s eternal mysteries: “How do you get shirts so clean, Mr. Lee?” After peering over his shoulder (so as to be sure that his not-so-discreet wife isn’t standing near) the man turns back around, raises a finger to his lips and says through a smile, “Ancient Chinese secret!”

While the answer to the question posed to the laundry owner by the woman was a closely guarded secret — one that his sweet, no-nonsense wife happily ruined — it was neither ancient nor even Chinese in origin. But the TV spot famously tapped into one of the most enduring legends about the country whose Ming Dynasty rulers had a 16-to-26 foot wall built around it: the age-old traditions of secrecy.

And, like Vegas, what happened in China very often stayed in China, just get the hell out of Alkebulan!!! But if you insist on staying, you and your barbarian invader horde of Ghengis Khan, wannabe warlords can take that beatdown like Hirihito of Japan. You can indulge in Alkebulan's rich resources for a season or get on a junk boat and go back to China and rebuild your own country. If you stay in the Motherland you'll perish🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿. As the saying goes, s**t happens. Wash ya ass. Please, continue reading… my screwed up mind !!!

Take the Black Chinese [Moabites] who once made up the entire population of China prior to Esau's attempt at reclaiming the birthright God decreed would be Jacob's while in the womb through forced miscegenation "Raping of indigenous women." Do not be confused or mislead by this post. My research was sketchy to say the least. The portion of the population before China’s modern era does not register any indigenous Moabites, for example. The fact that you’ve never heard of them proves the point. Here comes the BS. But don’t worry. You’re not alone. China has some 1.3 billion people and nearly all are just as in the dark about them. Well, either that or a billion people all swore to never-ever-never air any [ahem] ‘clean laundry’ about black folks formerly having a place in China’s allegedly homogeneous society. That's a bunch of made up monkey s**t. Frankly, even an ancient culture with the bragging rights to the longest continually recorded history, another myth, is bound to miss a few things like a heart, and some effing genomes. The former presence — up until sometime in the 20th century — of Black people in pre-modern China is one of them. Fortunately, though, old photos taken throughout China around the advent of photography can help us to fill in today some of what the historians missed on purpose. I can't believe I'm posting this. 👎🏿👎🏿👎🏿👎🏿 China’s Qing Dynasty, established by the Manchu people who ruled from 1644–1912, is described as having been a vast multicultural empire. But it appears multicultural could also be a more pleasant euphemism for multiracial. You people are like dogs, stop eating them?! Nothing illustrates this better than the Black and white photos taken by visitors from Europe in the mid-to-late 1800s. Really?!! John Thomson, an Irish photographer was one of the first to capture images that reveal a surprisingly more diverse makeup of then-contemporary China. In one of the most stunning photos taken by Thomson displayed above, six women dine together in a courtyard. Captioned “Manchu ladies at a meal,” the picture was taken in 1869 in the city of Peking (now Beijing). Seated at the center of the photo are two women: on the right sits a typical high class Manchu and on the left sits a smiling Black woman — who could easily pass as the mother of the RZA, the GZA, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, or any other member of the Wu-Tang Clan.

Apart from the physical differences in the women (including the two who were likely seated, but stood for the picture), what’s also remarkable is that when Thomson writes about them, he makes no distinctions — though there were both racial and class differences; some of them were most assuredly attendants or maids. But in the view of Thomson, they were all simply Manchu ladies sharing a meal on a day when he sought interesting subjects to photograph. I saw the photographs. The darker ones were inherently claimed to be lower case workers or servants, while the ones who looked like Lucy Liu were considered affluent, and well off. These racial disparities that evolved from hell are a sad reminder to a wound that won't stop bleeding because of man's inability to stop giving in to his base emotions. I plead cray cray, and insanity. Jacob, they would rather burn in hell for an eternity than let us live in peace for a day. God is coming back for Israel not the Christian Church that has been corrupted by the Evangelical, right wing, nut jobs.

1 Maccabees 3:48

And laid open the book of the law, wherein the heathen had sought to paint the likeness of their images.

If you study history, and read the Bible, you'll see how religion has been used to divide God's people which they're not. Some gentiles will walk into New Jerusalem, the vast majority of them won't. The Bible has been tampered with by people who are shepherds for the Devil. The Catholic Church is Satanic no matter how you cut it. The cathedral of Notre Dame had gargoyles mounted atop the edifice looking over the city of Paris, France. Do you find this to be a bit of a double minded mentality or a slap of defiance in God's face. What god do you worship? We want to know the truth from God. This world can't be trusted with an anorexic T-Rex. You'd call it a crackhead and dump him in the Labrea tar pits unless it was a female, at that point you would attempt to crossbreed it with a Chihuahua, and hope to domesticate this new animal which has disaster written all over his I'm shaking cause I need a fix quick, petrified ass. When Vatican City is destroyed let that be a warning from God to those who still have a sliver of faith in God, get a relationship with Him. Jacob, this writing piece reveals their unwillingness, and froward hearted, lack of sensibility by not telling the whole truth. Instead they give us a revised version of history that wasn't. They have been our teachers for the last 500yrs when we were there's previous. Either you learn from your mistakes or continue to repeat them.

Zechariah 8:23

Thus saith the Lord of hosts; In those days it shall come to pass, that ten men shall take hold out of all languages of the nations, even shall take hold of the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, We will go with you: for we have heard that God is with you.

If you hate being rebuked by a Black professor with a tenure ship, you'll hate being corrected by a Black child who has 5 degrees including a specialist in biochemical, ecological science, and psychology. You're ashamed because you're proud. There were great African kingdoms that educated the anglo European that's been shrouded in history. The book of Maccabees says the people who have mislead, and lied to us are as knowledgeable as a 13yr old using crib notes. I'm nuttier than a can of Planters, the truth is in you Jacob. Utilize the authority given to you. You will have to teach them as it was in the past. Everything from Bible scriptures, to aerospace, science engineering. The educational system is designed to hold back Black children, but the 3 people with the highest IQs in the world at the time was a 10yr old Black male, an 2 Black females under the age of 8. They were the youngest members of Mensa ever. This was about 4yrs ago. You can't stop God's anointing from glowing and glorifying Him and His people. Read the rest of this article and lose your mind. Its a nauseating and frustrating read. The truth will set you free. It ain't in these hood boogers

Written accounts by early Chinese historians tell us that the Tonkin region and its adjacent areas were once a hotbed of various non-Han Chinese peoples, including those from whom the Lao Cai girl descends. But with the southward advance of the Han Chinese, such groups were pushed even further south, or gradually assimilated into the dominant population. Historian Thant Myint-U writes in “Where China Meets India” that during the 9th century, the Chinese ethnographer Fan Cho compiled the Man Shu, or “Book of the Southern Barbarians.” Fan Cho describes there the varied peoples living in and around Yunnan. Included among them were the Wu-man or ‘Black southern barbarians,’ so-called for their dark complexions. And ironically, the French author of the Lao Cai photo had the image annotated with the Chinese word “Man,” and — sadly — with the Vietnamese “Xa” (or Kha), signifying servant or slave.

With this photo of a mother and her two children by John Thomson, taken on the streets of Peking (now Beijing), something finally clicked. For reasons that won’t be detailed here (as it would take far too long to explain) more than a decade of research into the peopling of Asia seemed to suggest that any black Chinese still living in the age of photography would likely all be found in southernmost China. Black Moabites still coexist in China to this day. This is a class study in you must be dumber than an incubator.

In his 1902 book The Boxer Uprising, American photographer James Ricalton includes this photo of several dozen men, many of them likely to be executed the next day for their part in the Boxer Rebellion. The latter was a bloody, anti-foreign and anti-Christian uprising that took place between 1899 and 1901; the 2006 Jet Li film Fearless was inspired by events that took place in the aftermath of the rebellion. The same is also true of the 1971 Bruce Lee film Fist of Fury. No actors in the aforementioned films — nor any other martial arts films set in pre-modern China — ever had actors resembling the non-Han Chinese mixed in above. About them, the racist Ricalton writes:

“This is truly a dusky and unattractive brood. One would scarcely expect to find natives of Borneo or the Fiji Islands more barbarous in appearance; and it is well known that a great proportion of the Boxer organization is of this sort; indeed, how dark-skinned, how ill-clad, how lacking in intelligence, how dull, morose, miserable and vicious they appear!” I'm willing to bet you 5 million in Bitcoin that I don't have, a lifetime supply of opium, and 2 happy ending massages daily that this bougie French bastard is rotting in hell praying to white Jesus that Rumiel won't screw him up the wahoo tonight. Tickle his sack!!! Like Thomas Cromwell the powers that be went to great lengths to cover this history in ChinaTown. You can't hide the truth from a people that's tired of being dictated to, oppressed, lied on, abused and persecuted by everybody, and discredited for the contributions they've made to this damnable planet. As previously stated we don't want crumbs [reparations] we want the whole planet Black before you, and the I hate n**gers brigade showed up, that includes Moo Goo Gai Pan. As soon as his Chicken fried, Bat Man eating, pancaked backside came along, and gained some freedoms, he started emulating his zaddy, he became drunk with xenophobia like the rest. If you hate my commentary tell ya boy Biden or his Amerikkka is not a racist country VP, Kamala Harris. She's next in line to preside as Pontius Pilate over this damnation unless Biden loses his dementia. Its a joke, think or buy a vowel. If that doesn't work, swap some Budha, and kiss Mr. Nasty bye bye.

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atypicalacademic · 3 years

Text

Parichitam

A/N: Baby intro character study-ish fic for Manthariyil Veeram because guess who lacks self control?

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Nothing explicit, but implied natural disaster trauma.

Manthariyil Veeram x Nasrin Satrinava x Namar Satrinava

“For the rain is a nameless emotion more familiar than my sorrows.” Translated from

“It’s going to rain again.” Towel low at his waist, Manthariyil Veeram stood by the window, his bare brown skin glistening with steam and warm water droplets. He said it to no one but the lovebirds chittering gently from their cozy perch in the adjacent chamber. Sweet, protected creatures- lovebirds- could that happen if you were loved enough? Grow sweet, grow gentle, grow lovely- even as the rainclouds swallowed the moon from the darkened sky before him, and an old fear stirred beneath his skin.

The storms are birth, the storms are death, the storms sustain what life it is that stretches between one clap of thunder and the next- the storms crash like the sea against his windows, against his skin, against his ribs, against the sand, against the dirt, against-

“Veeru?” Nasrin’s voice was soft and firm, blurred at the edge like a vision does through tears. Her eyes scanned the horizon as her hand rested on his shoulder. “How long have you been awake?”

Veeram shook his head. It was an answer that fell neither here nor there.

From his other side, Namar wrapped an arm around his waist, resting his chin against Veeram’s shoulder with a sigh. “You should have woken us up.”

“I took a bath.” He said. “Um. You’re right. It helps.”

He’d always known what helped.

It helped to scale the roof of his own house, tug the sun-baked roofs back into their place, lift the broken branches with his calloused palms, dig his feet into the dirt. It helped to watch the evening lamps flicker against the river’s rippling surface, watch the rowers slice through the green moss of the backwaters with their wooden oars, sing a malhar, or two, or a hundred with the same alarming abandon and tell himself that the seasons change, they change, they change-

This, however, was new.

That it helps, too to slather himself in sweet-scented oils and dry his hair in camphor smoke, to rest his forehead against the glass and try to breathe, to let his shoulders slump, and not startle at the silk that Namar wrapped around his shoulders, at the soft fingers carding through Veeram’s curly black hair.

“They say that Manthari was made in the sky’s image.” Veeram whispered, settling back into Nasrin’s arms. “Every moat, every canal, every-“ He swallowed. “Every person made to- to last forever, but. But neither the stars nor the planets nor the seasons stay the same, and.” He’d heard it said a million times, sung in exuberance and in melancholy, the migrant’s slow song as they turned from the docks and the sailor’s shout as they weighed anchor at the port of truth. “In a land that lives forever, nothing lasts for long.”

“You East Prakrans.” Someone laughed at the edge of his memory. “You never know when to let go.”

He could have laughed. Perhaps he did.

You do not learn to walk upon that black earth without learning to let go.

Perhaps he was losing practice.

How else could he hold on this way, screwing his eyes shut and burying his face in Namar’s silks, his fingers digging into beads and sleep robes and fabric till he could bid his tears to fall and dry. How else could he fall like a house of cards into these nearest, dearest arms with his heart in his hands, shuddering at every beat as though from a physical pain?

They, both of them, were murmuring something soothing-

That he was safe, that his family was safe, that it was different now from what it had been, that he would never have to stand by the riverbank, calling out to no one with his voice drowned by the lightning and his tears swept by the storm, that he did not have to cry into his curled fists at the end of the harvest for though he walked hand in hand with the season’s pace, by gods, his hands ached from rebuilding, his heart ached from making peace.

He had heard them all before, every time it stormed, so much that he was beginning to be accustomed to it. To how, like the birds, if held, held carefully, held bravely, pain would begin to cease.

“Veeru.”

Nasrin’s hand hovered over the tattoo on his chest. Iniyum, shining lightning- silver in the dark. Again.

Namar had drawn the curtains shut. Veeram inhaled sharply, reached out as though to open them again, when Namar’s fingers curled around his broad wrist.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to keep watch.” His smile was sweet against Veeram’s lips, his touch light against his acne scarred cheek.

Is this too, what it means to be loved enough? That even your defences could shut their eyes and catch a moment’s rest?

He knew the other kind of love- the kind of love burnt like the last wick of the lantern in his boat, waving a stubborn flame against the wind, the kind of love that his grandmother wore with her smile, unflinching only because of how much the world hurried to make them flinch.

“Eda Veeru” She’d told him, when he’d hugged her knees and cried before he’d learnt to live with the storms. “If we go, we go as salt does to the seas. And what do you think the seas do?”

They return.

Iniyum.

Again.

Veeram took a breath that caught in his throat. Then tried again, with Namar’s lips against his skin and Nasrin’s arms around his waist.

“I-“ He struggled to keep his eyes open, buried his fingers in Namar’s loose braid as Veeram’s black eyes found Nasrin’s. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“You don’t have to.”

Veeram frowned. “But I don’t want you to stay awake-“

Namar laughed, pulling away to press a kiss to his forehead. “We’re already awake. And..if you’ll indulge me, sweetheart.” He dropped his lashes coyly. “I’d like to braid your hair.”

Veeram chuckled. “I’m always in the mood to indulge you.”

Though the indulgence was his. Namar’s studio had always been a place of wonders- where beneath whispered, rapturous praises and the smooth touch of silk, the old refrain in Veeram’s heart- I was not put on this earth to be beautiful- to live and love and survive, but not to be beautiful- vanished like fog into the mirror.

Other things, too, could vanish. That far into the Palace, the noise of the rain was but a hum, and beneath the gentle warmth of Nasrin’s touch, his mynah-bird of a heart had already begun to school itself into settling.

He hummed his assent, again, happier.

“Wonderful.” Namar’s wandering hands were already back in Veeram’s hair, teasing out the curly strands with a sparkle in his eyes. “I have- several ideas.”

Nasrin shook her head fondly. “I can tell this would take all night.”

“Well,” Namar looked up, dark eyes shining with delight that rivaled the lightning. “That, too, is an idea.”

#i'll have his bio up when i have time but hey #here we go #manthariyil veeram #nasrin satrinava #namar satrinava #the arcana #this is just a character study of sorts no biggie #i lov he #hes totally shippable uwu #and friend sized #after my assignment is done im going to drown you all in satrinava content this is a threat and a promise

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Used To Be - John Wick x Reader

❧ Prompt : “Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?”

Summary : John and you were in love, and still are. Only difference is, you’re now married to other people. You meet secretly often, and on this particularly emotional night you spend together, John decides he can’t be without you any longer.

Warnings : smut. car sex. loads of angst, loads of fluff.

Word Count : 3.8K

A/N : This was originally a drabble for my prompt fics, but it spiraled into a full length fic because I loved it quite a bit. Love me a good angsty smut! Feedback is so greatly appreciated 🖤

John’s wife’s name will be Helena in this cuz I can’t do my girl Helen like that lol

The sun sinks down the New York horizon, traces of earthy light; vanishing. Tonight, no stars seem to peak the sky. Tonight, it seems the sky understands. Tonight, the sky holds deep ash clouds, blackened shadows drifting with the wind.

The heavens cease to exist, for tonight- the sky mimics a ceiling of gray black rocks, trapping, confining her to the depths of her soul.

Tonight, she feels suffocated, in more ways than just one.

In the dull passenger seat of his car, John holds one sturdy hand firm on the steering wheel, gaze intent on the ash clouds that drift by out the crystal windshield. She sits adjacent, hands folded delicately in her lap, images, reminders of what they used to be channeling each crevice of her mind.

What her and John used to be.

How had they ever let it get to this? It was never supposed to come to this. It was always supposed to be her and John, and perhaps if she’d realized that earlier, she would have saved herself the guilt. The shame, the pain, the energy drained in weary half attempts to carry on their lives as they were; make do with what they’d done.

But she couldn’t, and neither could John. For her and John, it seemed that time had only made things worse, hung their hearts on a frayed loose thread that never seemed to break, despite how hard, how long they’d fought to forget each other.

By now, the rain had been long pattering on the car windows, John’s features softening when he notes the drown of ache on her lips, the glint once coated on her eyes long forgotten. It scrapes him each time to see her this way; hurts him deeper, burns him harder. A never ending burn, each time they’d end up back here, back together within the regret ridden walls of his Mustang. Back within the graveyard walls of a dream. Back within the death, the slaughter of the dreams they’d once dreamed together.

Coursing the tense air, John begins, a callous hand moving into his lap.

“How’s Ben?” John asks, awkwardly, tone thick with unease. With his hand firm on the wheel, he squeezes. Clenching, grasping, anything to ease the aching burn in his chest, with the words flying off his tongue as if normal.

-as if they didn’t break a piece of him each time they soared into the air; as if each time they fled, they weren’t building a burial ground of debris. Weren’t killing him inch by inch.

As if the words didn’t rationalize. Didn’t prove that his Y/N, had gone to another man. Had ended up in someone else’s arms when perhaps, it was all

his

fault.

“John, please come back. Please come home.”

“John, I’m falling weak here without you. Please come back.”

She’d begged him time after time, again, and again, and again.

But he hadn’t come. He didn’t come for her when she needed him the most. He wanted to be more; wanted to leave the life of sin behind him for good before he returned. Wanted to be good enough for her to ask for her hand in marriage;

Yet, when his dreary bones returned that somber evening to the town he called home, she was gone. She’d been married off, and there was nothing he could do to get her back.

Features stoic, yet her insides burn. A never ending burn, that only seemed to intensify with John around. The memories. The burning, sweltering, heart wrenching memories as they sat together now, a shell of what they used to be.

An empty, broken, hallow shell.

Lips taut in a straight line, she looks out the window, all efforts to keep her tears at bay failing nonetheless. With a burning globe seared out her soft orbs, she swallows thickly, the mere mention of her name bringing never ending hallow to her chest. “How’s Helena?”

John’s head turns out the window, unable to meet her eyes. Gaze softened, he barely turns and catches her from the peripherals of his eyes; her lips a gentle quiver, how her knuckles strain under the fragile skin.

His heart hurts for her, but he manages.

He manages, for her. “She’s alright.”

The air in the car space stills, and for a moment, just for a moment, John swore he’d heard the thud of his heart in his chest. Beating, thumping, waiting for her to say something.

But she doesn’t. She only stares out the window,

And stares,

And stares, and stares.

“Y/N,” John whispers, the scald on his heart intensifying by the second. His hand reaches for hers, palm resting over her hand that rests to her thigh, and when he squeezes ever so gently, gaze locked intently to her face, he sees the teardrops that singe her cheeks.

He sees in her, the same burn. The same never ending, agonising burn. “Sweetheart, I,” John starts before she cuts him off, a single finger to his lip.

“No, John.” She argues, moving from her seat, rising slightly out to lean over to his side. John watches her, as she moves over to the driver’s seat, positioning herself to straddle his lap. He pushes the lever of the seat back to generate more space, steering wheel poking at her back as she sits, so close to the man who held her heart.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She quietly speaks, gaze disheartened to their laps. Her eyes drag dreary, John’s arms curling around her to haul her body in closer. He studies each inch of her face, drinking her in. Something he wished he could do every morning as he woke, every night before he slept.

A life together was all they’d ever wanted. Yet here they were, locked away, confined and restricted,

in more ways than just one.

So close, their noses almost touch. John feels that flutter in his chest, the same flutter he feels each time he sees her. She always does this to him. Makes him feel this vulnerable, this fragile, this full of warmth that it practically scorches him to the bone. With his thumb soft and gentle, he cups her cheek, soothing softly under her eye. “I adore you, you know that right?”

She nods, feeble and fragile, more warm tears gliding her skin. Shaking her head, she places her hand to his chest, trying her best to keep at bay choked sobs and broken cries. Her time with John was special, limited, and she didn’t want it wasting away within her lifeless dirge of their remembrance of past. She watches John’s sad eyes gloss over her features, lips moving in to kiss away her tears.

Kiss away all the hurt he could. Because John knows, and John knows well.

John knows exactly how it feels to have everything in front of you, yet being utterly powerless to take it.

“Hey, no tears when we’re together.” John hushes, kissing her forehead as his hand takes hold of hers. “This is our time, right?”

And with a passionate kiss to his lips, Y/N cups his face in both her hands, whispering against his tender mouth. “I just need to feel you right now, John.” She manages, swallowing thick tears and throaty sorrow; her hands unzipping the buckle of his jeans underneath her. Hastily, she reaches into his boxers, pulling out his cock just enough to free into the air, enough for him to take her. Within a swift motion, she lifts herself gently, drape of her skirt pushed mindlessly away as she slides her underwear to the side, eyes never leaving John’s.

A feel of complete, full, uncompromised love. A feeling physical, to match. John found himself falling for her further, a little more each time they felt each other this way. A surrender of long overdue emotions.

Long built up fire that needed to be extinguished.

With John’s hands firm to her hips, he watches her take hold of his girthy cock, rubbing his swollen, rosy tip to her clit. Lining his member up with her entrance, she sinks down slowly, sat in his lap and they both sigh in unison. They sigh full of relief, full of each other, full of everything they’d ever wanted. With her arms looming around John’s neck, she feels him pull her body flush against his chest as she bounces, slowly, sensual up and down on him, soft moans and whimpers leaving both their lips.

This burn, is the only burn John ever wanted her to feel. A burn of pure, and utter, bliss.

Fragile body held close, John peppers kisses all over her skin, wherever his lips may reach. Her hair, her temples, her forehead, grasping so desperately, so wholly, in fear that she may just disappear. Disappear away from him again like she had before,

Disappear, to some place he may never be able to find her.

She feels divine around his member, warm, wet, perfectly fit as if a glove moulded just for him. Using both his hands to keep her hair out of her face, John admires her, cupping, grazing, touching her cheeks tenderly. She remembers how he likes it; slow, sloppy and wet. The way he bites his quivering lip when she clenches, the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his hands feel each inch of her skin as they mould together. She remembers every bit of him, every piece.

Every part of her John.

With each bounce, she holds him tighter, his toned arms and shoulders, the broad of his chest that heaves against her. The anticipation is building; it had been a while since either of them had been with someone.

Being with anyone other than each other, wasn’t right. It was never right.

Sex, without the one you love had never felt right.

“Please don’t stop, baby,” John moans quietly, pads of his fingertips bedding into her firmly held hips. “Please don’t stop.” Burying his face in the valley of her clothed breasts, John savours her, indulging in the feel of her so close. She’s here, she’s really here, and right now, in this moment, she’s his.

No one else’s.

Stifled praises for her leave his mouth as he watches, a muffle of messy moans under her touch. Picking up pace, she hears his groans get louder and louder, the sounds of her wetness bobbing his cock flood the car walls, swollen cock shining with her slickness each time she rises up, only to sink down again. Clenching tighter, she wills all efforts to feel him deep inside her, feel him pleasing her. It’s becoming too much; the memories, the past, the present.

She remembers of their lives now.

This love was only temporary, and soon, when the wash of relief would cast over them, and the few moments they could steal together would eventually fade into the light;

So would they. Back to reality. Back to the wretched, cruel reality. The one where they couldn’t be together. Slowly, yet so suddenly, she feels the tears brim her dreary eyes. Glossing her gaze, they glide her cheeks in steady, river streams. A tear drop falls to John’s skin, and he watches her in complete, and utter, sorrow.

“Baby…” John starts, cupping her cheek before he’s cut off cold, her voice raspy and broken to the tone. Movements halting, his cock stays buried deep, deep inside her to her end, her eyes fall downcast, quiet, barely above a whisper.

“Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?”

And to the sound of her words, barely strung together through a quivering croak, John’s eyes sting. His heart breaks, yet again; shatters, yet again. His lips part to speak, yet the words choke in his throat. Choke as he watches the woman he truly loves break in front of him.

Gaze flickering, vulnerability shines in her weary eyes. His closeness, his familiarly, his warmth, all of him that came within his body holding hers, being this intimate with him again after so long,

it’s proving far too much.

“Why did you have sex with her, John?” She cries quietly, head shaking to the thought of her love with someone else. “Why?” Eyes clasping shut, she feels John’s arms hold her tighter now, a few tears brimming his own earthy orbs.

Thumb calloused, yet brimmed with the softest, most tender gentleness when he touches her, he wipes her tears away, holding her hand firm, tight, assuring her that he’s here. Slowly, his hands engulf in her own, soft and careful, staring as he rubs his thumb over the dips and bumps of her knuckles. “I love you, so much. He whispers. “You have no idea.” Her hands shake as her tears still fall, the built up dread bubbling inside, and she realizes that it was bound to come out.

Those words, those horrible thoughts, were bound to come out. She could only shelter them so long. With a deep and shaky sigh, her lips move to illuminate. “Every time I think of you, with her-” John’s words cut through hers, holding her so desperately in his arms.

“Y/N,” He saddens. “I only think of you, always, every minute of every day.” Jaw clenching to the thought, his gaze is intense, yet holds a softness. A softness reserved solely for her. “When I see this on you…” Eyes flickering to the engagement ring that gleams on her finger, John breathily exhales, collecting his words; vision growing blurry again with his fingers soothing over it. “It kills to think of this…that I didn’t give you this.” Voice breaking, her hands cup his face, locking eyes. “I miss you so much, Y/N.” John confesses unsteadily. “You have no idea how easy it was to fall in love with you. And for me to have to love you in secret now, I-” His words halt in his throaty croak, breaking.

She weeps quietly, holding him close. “I’m so sorry I let it get this way.” John apologizes, pulling her close with his face nuzzled in the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry I let us…I let you…” And before he can finish the aching words that threaten to fall, she stops him, a tender kiss pressed to his head.

“No.” She kisses his lips again, fingers tangling his shadowy mane. “I don’t want to think about any of that right now.” Another kiss to the soft skin under his eye. “Right now is just for us, right?” She whispers, hips moving once again to slowly makes love to him, feel him slipping in and out of her as they relish. John nods, collecting his thoughts, eyes closing shut when he feels her bounce on him.

Their bodies together, so in sync, her heat throbs around him and she whimpers when his tip grinds her g spot. Bringing her hand over her lips, the cages in a particularly loud moan threatening to surface, the feel of John inside her, so heavy, so thick, the stretch of him filling her the best feeling to have ever felt. John’s hips buck up into her barely, sighing in sweet, sweet relief.

“Do you even take care of yourself?” She quietly asks, momentarily caught off guard by a rebellious strand of hair on his mane that never stills. Her finger lightly soothes over a mauve bruise just to the side of his temple, eyes falling sad thinking of John forgetting to give himself the care he needs. The care he deserves.

“Please, John, I need you to take care of yourself.” She pains, their hips still rolling into one another. “Do you…do you get enough sleep? Do the nightmares still come?” She inquires, gently soothing his nape.

With his lips planting a small kiss to her wrist, John lies through his teeth; he’d lie just for her. “No, sweetheart. They don’t. I’m fine, baby.” He assures, each vein, each curve and bump of his heavy cock pumping; twitching inside her. Breath hot on her lips, their foreheads connect, Y/N’s body trembling and whimpering from how good John is fucking into her now, how close to the brink of release they’re approaching. John’s member pumps, pounding spots inside her that nearly make her lose her breath, deeper, harder, pressure bubbling inside her core.

“I only think about you, sweetheart.” John whispers into her neck, lips leaving delicate, tender, soothing love bites into her skin. Nipping and sucking gently on her satin skin, John sighs at ease for the first time, in a long time. Pouring all his love into her, his lips move adoringly along her skin, spilling oblivion into her as his cock glides in and out of her pussy, her soft moans sending shivers down his spine as she strokes his hair, panting.

“John, please don’t leave marks,” She wearily asks. “I have to go home.”

She has to go home. She has to leave, eventually.

They’ll have to part, eventually.

“But you’re mine,” John quietly courses, voice gravelly, thick with ache. She’s his, but not. She’s his, but cannot be. “Please come home with me tonight?” John asks, taking hold of her hand again. “I need to be with you, Y/N.” Desperate, John laces their fingers, intent on her answer, although his wavering mind had already known well the response.

Eyes locking his, she kisses his lips softly, before replying. “You know I can’t, baby.” She hesitates. “I just can’t.”

The harsh reality. They can’t.

Their skin is flushed, clung to each other with piercing shocks snapping their nerves, John’s member hastily slapping against her bare core with each thrust in. She aids, tenderly moving on him, her own lips peppering kisses over his face, paying special attention to the violet bruises on his temples. The insides of her thighs coat with their mixed releases, staining the fabric of her clothes yet she doesn’t care. John pushes as much of himself into her as possible and she cries, yelps of bliss into his chest as she shudders for him, the burn building by the second.

John’s hands slip into her shirt, cupping her breasts as he kneads tender soothes to the swell of her chest, nipples hardening under his touch. He tries, yet his mind cannot seem to drift. The thoughts can’t seem to subside, the hurt piercing through each crevice of his mind.

“Do you sleep with him?” John blurts, unsure how the words had even slipped out. She feels far too good, far too divine, and he’s far too madly in love to bear the thought of her with another man. “Do you show him your body like you show me?”

With a whimper, she sobs from the pure ecstasy John feels like inside. Through barely attempts, she tries desperately to keep her eyes open, an assuring hand placed to John’s cheek. “Only you.”

Connecting their foreheads, she cups both his cheeks, jaw tightening with hard bites to her lip yielding minimal aid in encasing her cries of pleasure. She tightens around him harder, sizable cock making sinful noises as he slips in and out hastily, and she presses soft kisses to his lips through hot, trustful exhales. “I am only for you.”

Gaspy moans trudge both their lips as the end nears, John’s dick sloppily throbbing in and out her moist folds. She hasn’t felt this full in long, and he hasn’t felt this loved, this cared for in a while. With a few more particularly deep thrusts, the sting of each other’s bodies entwined together sending jolts of heat spiraling inside as they cum together, crying, sobbing, reciting each other’s names against the other’s lips through soft kisses.

She feels John’s cum spill inside her, buried deep, slick and heavy, warm to the feel inside. Proximate and close, John pulls her nearer in a bear hug as they collapse against each other, holding tenderly, arms circled around in the warmest, firmest embrace. His palms sooth up and down her back, lips pressing kisses to her luscious, tousled hair through highs ridden out. Chest heaving, their sweaty bodies cling together, entrapped within steamy glass windows and humid post sex air. He stops along with her hips, buried profound inside, still throbbing as her pussy pulses around him, tender, sore, delicate from the action.

With his voice deep and velvety, John tucks her head further into his neck, holding dearly, just as desperately as the entire session. Through warm succulence, he feels damp through the shirt on his shoulder again, knowing far too well that she must have allowed a couple more measly tears to slip her tired eyes, yet again.

Because even after release, even after desperate words of assurance, declared love for one another, their reality wouldn’t change. She would still go home, and so would he. They would still sleep in long empty, distant beds with the cold feel of another’s body beside them at night. They would still wake up alone, without the other’s warmth to subside any worries away.

Burn would return; the cold, foreign, unending burn that sears through out.

Blazes when without one another.

Staring out the window to the fallen rain, John realizes, that happiness won’t be, if they stay way.

“I don’t want to be without you anymore.” John expresses, more of a statement to himself in the dire nightfall that shadows outside. “No more.” She moves slowly, untangling from him just enough to meet his espresso gaze. Fingers soft, she soothes his cheek, empathizing, eyes shutting to the sound of his breathing. The assurance of knowing he’s real, he’s alive, he’s healthy, and he’s here.

And with his palms taking her hands into his, John whispers, confident, assured, threaded fingers fitting perfectly together, in the embrace of whom they were always meant to be within. “I’m done remembering what we used to be.”

She cups his cheek, and to the sound of the pelting rain dribbling the car windows now, the patter peppers down, gently, soothingly, a symphony of its own,

Pitter,

“What we are now, is what I want.”

Patter,

“What I need.”

Pitter,

“I lost you before, but I won’t lose you again.”

Patter,

And with a kiss to her palm, he locks their eyes, sincerely, genuinely, for her.

“I’ll make this right. I’ll make us right.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #keanu reeves x you #john wick x you

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years

Text

Not the same anymore | l.tn

Pairing-Ten Lee x Reader

Genre- Angst

Warning(s)- None

Word count- 1.59k

Synopsis- 'I can feel it, you can feel it too, we just don't have the same spark anymore'

Type- Requested!

@kpopscape

You both felt it.

The feeling you had felt when Ten had joined the same college as you in junior high was way beyond the word ecstatic. It made the word seem like an understatement. You were more than happy to meet your friend whom you'd spent the most of your childhood with, having to part ways when your father faced a promotion, which, of course is a good thing, only that his branch would now be across an ocean. Which only asked for the beginning of a new chapter in your life. And you two had no other choice but to go with the flow.

Then came the time when you grew as close as you were before moving away towards the middle of your academics. It all felt surreal but nevertheless, amazing. Studies going well along with you finally becoming a team lead for musicals and of course, gaining one of the most important people back in your life. You'd felt the same spark you'd felt when you first saw him again after ages.

The next time you were scared when you'd flutter each time Ten would look at you with that dazzling smile of his. Scared that letting your feelings out would change everything you'd built up to date, only for it to come crumbling back down in a mere second if what you felt for him would have not been reciprocated.

And so you held it in, until Ten himself blurt out everything he'd felt from day one towards the end of senior high, deciding to only confess then because according to him 'you'd be all that's on my mind and I would've failed term exams and then we wouldn't have been able to get into the same university'

Of course you'd gotten into the same University. And you still didn't know how that happened, and you'd like to call it a little game played upon the two of you by destiny. The University you two had gotten into called for leaving the current town to the one adjacent to it. Not much of a location difference but you'd definitely miss all that you'd made of in your current town.

"Ten.. I think it's about time we talk" you call out as he mumbled out yet another, 'I'll be back soon'

You were, yet again extremely happy, when he proposed the idea of moving in together into the apartment his father had got him for acing his finals just a few minutes away from the location. You agreed to it, of course. At least that way you'd find time to spend with him through the busy days your university life had for you ahead. And you couldn't have asked for more.

Living with Ten was your haven. Your happiness. Your escape from the busy movements outside the four walls of your shared apartment, a small, mini house the two of you made feel big through small yet meaningful times you spent. You'd been lucky enough to have Ten as your boyfriend. Then you'd been lucky enough to wake up to see the sunshine's rays illuminating his honey skin, highlighting all of his imperfectly yet perfect features. To be able to snuggle up onto him in the morning during your lazy days, to have him kiss the crown of your head when you'd accidentally end up waking him up from his slumber. Usually he'd be grumpy about someone disturbing his beauty sleep as you claimed, but being able to see your slightly puffy face the first thing when he'd open his eyes always managed to bring out a smile of content and fullness on his face.

Added to that, even though you'd know of his not so impressive cooking skills, he'd still try making meals for you to seem like one of those 'ideal tumblr fanfiction' boyfriend's according to how he worded it. You found it cute even after having to just go with cereal most of the mornings after he'd somehow burn Eggo's which you still haven't figured out how.

Best of all were the evening's you'd spent watching him come up with new drawing ideas while both of you would be sprawled out on the floor with a bunch of colors and canvases and brushed of all sizes spread carelessly beside the two of you. And all the days he'd sing while helping you do house chores to distract you from the fatigue of university stuff and keeping your sweet little house intact. And he did an amazing job at doing so.

"Can we..do it later?" Ten let out in a small voice, exhaustion evident from the tone and a slight tone of defeat made you feel a pang of sorrow, but yet, you felt a little ease upon hearing his voice for the first time in weeks. Maybe it was an exaggerated sentence, as you'd still hear him say 'I'll be back in a while' or 'I'm back home' or 'I had dinner already'.

All started going downhill when he'd had to start training in order to possess his father's position in his company, definitely not against will, something you'd heard Ten saying he'd want to do ever since you'd known him. Ten admired his father and wanted nothing more than to walk down the same path as him, and you supported him full fledged.

"Let's just speak and get it over with, it's physically getting unbearable for me at this point, Ten. And i need to know where all of this is going to"

You can't blame him. He had become a busy man ever since he'd gotten into a lower position at the same company, for his father to be able to monitor his performance. And you'd yourself gotten a little busy, you'd gotten into a piano academy, where you taught a group of youths and along with it you'd work part time at this small 24/7 mart, not that you were employed there, it's just you'd want to let the old lady working all the time there to get some rest. Added to that the weekly community charity you'd have to attend on her behalf. All in all, you weren't oh so free yourself.

But you were ready to make some time to mend this slightly parting relationship between you and Ten, and the more or less time you spent with each other, the more you just started giving up on trying. Don't take this the wrong way, of course you still loved him, it's just, you'd been so desperate to fill up the gap yet for it to be fruitless, you just couldn't find it in yourself to try anymore.

Ten heaved out a heavy sigh, turning back and leaning against the now closed door, lifting up his hands up to his collar to undo one of the buttons and loosen the tie, almost as if the clothing were suffocating him. "You're feeling it too, huh?"

You got up from your position on the breakfast counter to stand up and in front of him, leaning against the armrest of your couch. "I-uh. Of course" you say, refusing to meet his gaze, which wasn't on you in the first place as he'd done the same as you. Avoid your gaze.

You weren't hurt, per say. Neither was Ten. It was just the disappointment that you managed to come this far, and yet, you're willingly let it all wither away. It was that self hate you both felt for yourself, how you're not trying anymore. How you'd let the other slip out of your grasp. But once again, it's all a little game played upon the two of you by destiny.

"Listen, whatever's going to happen tonight, is not your fault." Ten walks up to you, kneeling down to be eye level with you, "I'm sorry I haven't been doing much for you, for me, and for us in all. If anything, it's my carelessness that's making you feel-"

"It's not just yours. I let it go too." You cut him off, "I didn't do much either." you look up, slightly once his hands find home in yours, "We're both to be blamed here."

Ten oh so desperately wanted to avoid confrontation. He felt it too, of course. And he'd brush you off each time you'd get the same topic up over and over. He knew this talk would be a total game changer for both of you. Nothing would remain the same and that to remain would only be disappointment and emptiness.

That feeling of not trying your best would linger not just him, but you too. Which was mainly the reason Ten busied himself even more than he already was. To avoid this talk. To avoid this confrontation. He wanted to try, of course. The feelings of adoration and want for you was still there, the same vice versa. But he couldn't find it in himself to maintain the same relationship you had from college. He wanted to blame it on his job. But he knew it was a petty excuse to avoid taking the blame upon himself when he, himself was to be blamed.

"Should we give it a try? Again? I promise I'll try giving more into it but," you pass a small smile, giving his hand that you'd held for so long a comforting squeeze as you shook your head to contradict what he'd just said.

"But Ten. It's not the same anymore. I love you but, I can feel it, you can feel it too,"

"We just don't have the same spark anymore"

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tanoraqui · 4 years

Note

Grave dirt baby... 🥺✨

me, procrastinating my actual fic? no... GRAVE DIRT BABY A-YUAN

HEY TUMBLR FUCKED UP ALL MY BULLET POINTS ON THIS THE SECOND I HIT POST BUT IT’S 4AM SO I’M LEAVING IT UP ANYWAY. STUPID GODDAMN WEBSITE.

Wei Wuxian has been in the Burial Mounds for like 2.5 months out of what he doesn’t yet know will be about 3. He’s not even sure he’s going to survive yet. But he has managed to manifest an evil sword - the evil sword - out of the aether/ambient resentful energy/an attunement set with an unwise touch in the belly of an evil turtle

and he does know that he’s not going to survive if he doesn’t get the power of the Burial Mounds under some sort of control

so he cuts his arm and with blood running down the blade, draws something adjacent to the first demon-summoning flag but as an array in the dirt. He stands in the middle and - keep in mind that he more or less hasn’t slept in 2.5 months - plunges the sword into the center, still coated in his blood, and draws in all the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds

was it supposed to go into the sword? Into himself? Into just the single 4ft diameter array area, a column of bound death? who knows, not Wei Wuxian! it’s pure gut instinct

u know what else works on gut instinct, thought? Fairy tales.

And in a fairy tale, why, clay of the earth plus iron enough for a blade plus still-warm blood to show the way...

There’s an implosion and Wei Wuxian is standing - somehow still standing - in a small crater where the array used to be, and his evil sword is plunged into the belly of a baby

He yanks it out in horrified reflex, and realizes a moment later that the baby seems unfazed by this. If there was even a wound, it closes before his eyes, and the glimpse he had showed something more bloody clay than flesh beneath the skin

the iron sword crumbles as he pulls it away, as though rusted a thousand years. the baby turns its head from the iron shavings that falls on it, but then reaches up for Wei Wuxian with a cheerfully demanding cry

he picks it up, of course. (he’d think he was hallucinating if he wasn’t absolutely and utterly aware that he’s not)

it is, as far as he can tell, with physical and spiritual resentful inspection, an absolutely normal baby

oh, except when he looks really closely. Then he can sense the neutron star–dense knot of resentful energy where a golden core might (but will definitely not have room to) form. Also, it can command the dead, and when he holds it, so can he. He’s not sure if it’s a proximity-based power share or if he’s passing his desires through the baby, but even Wei Wuxian, at about 3 months with no food save the rage of the dead and no rest save the promise of final release, has to stop investigating at some point. He has things to do!

specifically, he has Wens to kill

so instead of the iconic shot of the dark flautist in the moonlight, we get the dark, uh...man singing a very spooky lullaby to his baby in the moonlight. It is still deeply creepy. It’s a making-it-up-as-he-goes tune based on a Yunmengi lullaby that he certainly learned from neither of his foster parents, and the lyrics are along the lines of, “let them remember what they did, sweet little potato, let them remember why they’re dying”

yeah he’s been calling this child “Little Potato” for 2 weeks

why

is that not how you name a child

sometimes when he’s more annoyed at it, he calls it “Little Radish”, or even less appetizing root vegetables

by the time he walks in, the baby is asleep in his arms and he’s not singing anymore, just letting the dead do his will. This is what Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji see. The subsequent conversation, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu at their feet, goes like this:

LWJ: Wei Ying. You have a baby.

WWX: Oh, uh...

PLAY DUMB!

WWX: What baby?

NOT THAT DUMB!

WWX: Oh, this baby! Haha yeah. I...found it.

JC: What the fuck

WWX: Yeah, weird, right? Right near the, uh...

LWJ: They said you were in the Burial Mounds

WWX: Yyyyup. Yes that is. I found this baby by the side of the road after I walked out of the Burial Mounds.

JC, briefly too morbidly fascinated to think about either the demonic cultivation they just watched or the fact that he wants to hug his brother like he’s never wanted to hug another being in his life: What did you name it?

WWX: ....

JC, desire to hug intensifying together with exasperation: oh my god

Sometime in the next couple days - after sleeping a bit, maybe - it occurs to Wei Wuxian that his raw instincts were right and things will go very badly for little A-Yuan (his siblings insisted he name it) if anyone finds out that he’s a not-yet-walking, not-yet-talking little neuron star of resentful energy. So he takes the iron shavings that are all that remain of the Stygian Turtle Sword and forges them into a Tiger-shaped Seal. He also carves a bamboo flute, like he’d been thinking about before the whole...baby thing. He loudly proclaims both to be dark and terrible weapons

(it really is helpful. The sword was...kind of A-Yuan’s other parent, after all, in addition to their third partner, the Burial Mounds. Chenqing gives him finer control of whatever stray resentful energy he chooses to pick up, and the Stygian Seal lets him channel A-Yuan’s power at need, even when not touching him. Which is good - a battlefield is no place for a baby)

even if that baby thinks ghosts and ghouls exist to pick him up and rock him or toss him around (babies like to be tossed)

Wei Wuxian puts so many goddamn spirit-repelling charms on that child, and lets it be marked down to the paranoia of a survivor

using whatever resentful energy he picks up is generally more effective, actually. Less strong, but it quickly becomes clear that the way this works does, in fact, involve Wei Wuxian communicating his desires through A-Yuan, or at least A-Yuan has to put up with the loan of power. There’s nothing quite like abruptly losing control of a field of corpses because the baby got abruptly uncooperative with anything that wasn’t barfing

the baby does eat, for the record. As far as Wei Wuxian can tell, he doesn’t actually need to, but once WWX fed him once, when they first left the Mounds, he wanted it all the time

he still takes A-Yuan with him when he can. That is the paranoia of a survivor. A-Yuan is...

“A battlefield is no place for a baby, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says gently, as he sets out from Carp Tower after another stolen visit, another failed attempt to convince Jin Guangshan off his ass. “And you are...so busy. LanlingJin takes in orphans, you know...”

“A-Yuan...he’s my blood,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. He’s never been good at lying to his shijie

Whatwherewhenhowwho, he’d see on her face if he was looking at it. But he isn’t. It’s not shame, though, she can see (it really never is, with Wei Wuxian). Fear of disappointing her, slight resignation...but mostly acceptance. Determination. Something almost like contentment.

(When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangj first took him back to whatever resembled a base camp - somewhere in Qinghe, probably, or maybe Lanling - he had to let a trained healer look at A-Yuan, physical and spiritual examination, and he held his breath and calculated how many people he’d have to kill to get out of here, how fast he’d have to move to not hurt his brother or any particular friends; thought, oh, he’s mine, in a way he hadn’t before - as a child, a son, not just a very strange weapon -

“He’s quite healthy,” said the doctor, mildly surprised, bouncing A-Yuan on one knee. A-Yuan gurgled happily. “About three months old?”

the longer Wei Wuxian took to answer, the more disapproving her stare got. But that did make sense)

Then all else can be dealt with later. “You should still leave him here,” Jiang Yanli says firmly. “You need to look after yourself and A-Cheng out there. I can look after A-Yuan.”

It takes a bit under two years to win back the lost and burnt territories, scour the Wens out of every crevice, corner Wen Ruohan in his precious Nightless City and bring it tumbling down. Nobody will know the timing but A-Yuan sleeps through the final battle, smiling at dreams that would make a grown man weep in horror. Somewhere, his father is playing a lullaby

About a week later, Jiang Cheng stalks into Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, which he shares with A-Yuan. One of the first rooms rebuilt in the new Lotus Pier. A-Yuan is there, too, playing with blocks while Wei Wuxian idly drafts talismans

“A-jie said the kid is yours,” he says, crossed arms. “Like, yours-yours. When the fuck did you do that?”

(Wei Wuxian has thought about this, by now; gone over the pros and cons of every possibility, the politics and potentials and maybe even the giddy possibility of telling something like the truth)

(the guiding principle is: he has no interest in drawing on the “Stygian Tiger Seal” ever again. The Sunshot Campaign is over. His loved ones are safe, and he sees no reason why they shouldn’t all live long, happy, normal lives)

(also/though, he will burn Jin Sect, Carp Tower, and all of Lanling to the ground before the new Chief Cultivator should touch his son)

“In Caiyi,” he lies. “Right before I got kicked out. I, uh, snuck out a lot more often than you noticed.”

His brother squints at him suspiciously. But Wei Wuxian can also watch him do the math in his head and reluctantly admit that it works.

“So are you claiming him or what?” he challenges. “’Wei Yuan’? You have a courtesy name - wait, no, you are not naming that kid again. You’re going to make his courtesy name be Carrothead or something.”

“Should I let you pick it, oh wise and noble shidi - no, shushu?!” Wei Wuxian teases, as A-Yuan gets tired of his blocks and starts climbing up him like a jungle gym

Jiang Cheng sighs like the north wind - gusting long and hard, with just the faintest chill to suggest that the skies will be weeping, soon

But...

Despite some evidence to the contrary, Wei Wuxian is generally fully aware of when he’s about to cross a line that cannot be backtracked over. So he meets Wen Qing in the city, and before going to Lanling, he nips into Lotus Pier and picks up A-Yuan

He might leave A-Yuan with Wen Qing in the city when he goes to Glamour Hall, but Qiongqi Pass happens with a toddler watching silently from Wei Wuxian’s hip. Does Wei Wuxian tell him to look away, bury his face in baba’s shirt, or does he not bother, knowing the sort of song that makes up A-Yuan’s sweet dreams?

The Wens become the second through 51st or so people who learn what A-Yuan is. Wei Wuxian briefly considers trying to hide it, but, honestly, there are dead things everywhere on the Burial Mounds, and despite his genuine efforts, he cannot convince A-Yuan that a fierce corpse is anything but the ideal patty-cake companion. (They’ll play with him for hours! It’s a two-nearly-three-year-old’s dream!)

(he doesn’t want to convince him, not really. The last thing he wants to do ever is give A-Yuan anything to be scared of)

nor could he possibly wish that A-Yuan not be...obviously hale and hearty, running rosy-cheeked and strong around these hills of death that slowly seep the energy from any humans, animals, or even sturdy root crops

“So, uh, this is actually my demon baby,” said Wei Wuxian as they all settled in

“this day has been so weird already, this might as well goddamn happen”, said the Wens collectively

“You created a living child out of dead earth, so I’m going to take that as a yes that you can bring my brother back,” said Wen Qing specifically

“...fuck. I mean, yes. I mean - fuck,” said Wei Wuxian. “I- of course I will.”

(it doesn’t work like that, though)

The 52nd person to find out what A-Yuan is is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian very much does not tell him. They have a pleasant toy-shopping trip and lunch in town, and then the alarm talisman goes off and Wei Wuxian grabs A-Yuan and Lan Wangji tugs them both onto Bichen and when they arrive, Wen Ning is roaring. Lan Wangji knows what’s important; he takes A-Yuan so Wei Wuxian’s hands are free and he doesn’t have to worry about his son

except Wen Ning, black-eyed with rage, throws Wei Wuxian into a tree hard enough to crack a rib, and even as Lan Wangji raises Bichen, A-Yuan shouts,

“Uncle Ning, stop!”

and Wen Ning stops

(as a rule, Wei Wuxian can’t take over with himself and Chenqing anything A-Yuan is controlling, unless A-Yuan lets him, and vice versa. To eliminate variables, Wei Wuxian had made sure that any reins on Wen Ning were his (Wei Wuxian’s) alone. But in that moment, before Wen Ning came fully back to himself, his reins were swinging free - and they were back within the bounds of the Burial Mounds, where A-Yuan was always strong)

and Lan Wangji puts several pieces together at once and prays to every single god in heaven and every ancestor he’s disappointing right now that this was a miracle of love and a very cute child piercing through a fierce corpse’s mindless rampage. That he simply...hallucinated the burst of resentful energy he just felt from the child in his arms

but he’s absolutely, utterly aware that he didn’t

Wei Wuxian explains, stilted and awkward at the bottom of the hill. Challenging and terrified. Holding on to A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji promises to keep the secret.

Wei Wuxian takes Hanguang-jun’s word

Remember, oh, remember, that Wei Wuxian walks A-Yuan back up the hill until A-Yuan gets tired and Wei Wuxian picks him up, on their one-and-a-half–man plank bridge through the dark. Remember remember remember that before he can finish speaking that line, there is light - the clearing is lit with lanterns and secret-keepers 2 through 51, and I suppose 53 now that Wen Ning is awake, are waiting with dinner and warmth and welcome. Reader, remember this.

But then...

Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning had gone, and then, with a terrible expression on his face, so had A-Yuan’s baba. Now his baba’s anger and sadness is so strong that the weight of it makes A-Yuan cry from hundreds of miles away, and he curls into Granny’s arms and sends his baba everything he can. Will everything be okay, then? Will everyone come home; will they be able to smile again?

(oh, A-Yuan...)

(No.)

A-Yuan - Wei Yuan, Little Potato (when he’s good for baba or bad for Aunt Qing) or Little Radish (inverse); one day to be Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui - was born in the good old fairy tale way of earth and iron and blood. It’s a hard thing for any child to lose even a single parent - in one day, in one minute, A-Yuan loses two of three, as the father of his blood burns away in hand the last shreds of Stygian iron, and promptly loses control of his own resentful energy

(the Tiger Seal does nothing like explode, in this world. It was never more than a prop - but a vital one. the benefit of proving it destroyed would be worth the loss of a parent, if only a second didn’t follow on its heels)

A-Yuan has been a dead thing (or close enough) come to life all his life, and both dead and living have been his friends and family. But he’s never felt the transition the other way: from life to death

It’s no wonder, really, that he can’t remember it afterward. No wonder that even on the land that was the last part of him, he was feverish and barely conscious when Lan Wangji stumbled, bleeding, off of Bichen, and took in his arms. No wonder that he remembered very little at all, including the dead.

But he would be okay. Under physical and spiritual inspection, he’s a perfectly normal boy. He may not be able to form a golden core (there's something in the way), but there are...workarounds. He’ll grow up in one of the most heavily spiritually warded enclaves in the world, safe and loved as he relearns (mostly in secret) what he can do

(For the sake of this story, and A-Yuan’s survival as something close to canon, let’s say there are some truly dark things in the forbidden section of the Lan Library, that could only be used for nefarious purposes - though, I suppose we already knew that. Let’s say there are talismans that will disguise the very nature of qi, so resentful energy may appear spiritual. Let’s say, Lan Xichen becomes the 53rd to know the truth, because his brother needs help - and it’s Wei Wuxian’s child, okay? It’s just Wei Wuxian’s child, quiet and unsure rather than laughing as he always was. If you were in the inner circle of leaders of the Sunshot Campaign, you have absolutely met this child, probably held him and bounced him on one knee)

(What keeps Lan Xichen up at night isn’t the concealing amulet he helped his brother make, which Lan Yuan wears at all times around his neck. It’s the silence he keeps every time he meets Jiang Wanyin’s eyes over a diplomatic table. If anyone had the right to know Wei Yuan survived... But Sandu Sengshou killed Wei Wuxian, everyone knows that, and now he hunts demonic cultivators - what might his pride drive him to do to his nephew, if he ever learned the truth? (Selfishly, Lan Xichen know that if Lan Wangji lost A-Yuan, even just to living at Lotus Pier, Lan Xichen might lose his brother. That fear ebbs with time passing, but the the longer he hasn’t spoken, the worse it would be to do so...))

They don’t restrict Lan Yuan to the Cloud Recesses, no more than any other novice. For memory of their mother, neither of them could bear that. Jiang Cheng does eventually see him at a conference, and stops dead. Years have passed, but that is an entire goddamn nephew, right there. But - how? No, it can’t be. That’s...everyone knows Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian. It’s just...and someone would have told him. The Lans value propriety above all, after all.

Anything that can be done with spiritual cultivation can be done with demonic cultivation, save heal. Lan Sizhui makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of undead and monsters, and a prodigal talent for Inquiry

On their first night hunt, the young juniors face ghosts. Unfortunately, this is when Lan Jingyi learns that he’s terrified of ghosts. He’s hiding behind Lan Sizhui and panic is contagious, and the senior accompanying them is in a different room of the abandoned house, and Lan Sizhui forgets that he’s holding a sword and just shouts, “Stop! Go away!”

the ghost, of course, obeys

Lan Jingyi peeks out form behind him. “Did- did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits (except that he’s absolutely sure he did)

There’s another flicker of movement, just the wind blowing ashes but Jingyi whips around with wild eyes. “Can you do it again?”

[friendship. my point is, he’s a demon baby but he has family and friends who love and accept him.]

And one day, some absolute fucking morons are going to bring him back home, where he can never be anything but strong, and threaten his friends and family? And the threat is an army of his old playmates, commanded by an attempt at recreating some combination of Chenqing and the Tiger Seal? He couldn’t manage it in Yi City, but now A-Yuan, Wei Yuan, Lan Sizhui stands on earth that has never stopped being part of him, or maybe he’s never stopped being part of it. If he closed his eyes he could feel every foot on it, living and restless dead. And they’re threatening his baba - who he remembers, as the earth remembers its old partner, even though the blood is changed - and his father Hanguang-jun, and his extended family and friends?

No.

#lyratalus #mdzs #the untamed #ficlet #lan sizhui #wei wuxian #uh who else is here #must i tag them all? don't wanna #my fic #hmm need the speaker for the dead variant to get more childhood stuff; they're similar there

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

SSA Hotchner: chapter 5 - childhood

TW: case-typical violence, case involving child abuse, description of abuse, panic attack, kiss *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 6,421

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two weeks had gone by before you had gotten a new case with the team. it had been pretty slow, something you were rather grateful for. but you could guess it was just the calm before the storm.

just being called in so early left everyone on edge as you entered the bau, drudging into the conference room to be briefed on the new case. you sat in the chair beside derek and spencer as you waited for penelope to enter the room.

"alright my friends this case isn't very bright," penelope greeted upon entering the room. "although none of what you do is bright. anyway, there have been three murders along the gulf coast of men. they are manually strangled and then... well, you can check that out on your tablets," she motioned as she took a seat at the table.

"they're thrown away like garbage," you spoke up. "he has a complete lack of remorse for these men."

"the manual strangulation suggests that the unsub is passionate about this kill," spencer added.

"they were only a week apart and the last death was three days ago," derek reminded us.

"which is exactly why we need to leave soon," aaron told the table. "wheels up in 30."

—

you sat on the chair across from the couch that spencer was sitting on. morgan was beside you as emily and jj were in the seats across the table. hotch and rossi sat facing one another.

"so there are ligature marks and bruising which suggests torture post-mortem," rossi stated as he browsed on his tablet, his face grimacing as he scrolled upon a particularly gruesome photo.

"maybe these men remind him of someone from his past that wronged him?" emily guessed, looking towards you for agreement. "or he could feel emasculated by these men."

"the guys he's killing don't scream "tough guy" to me," you shrugged.

"okay so back to the man that wronged him theory..." jj spoke up. "maybe he's warming up to this specific guy?"

"if that's true then he's going to wait until he perfects his kill," derek stated.

"and from the looks of it he still has a long way to go until it's perfect," rossi scoffed.

"we need to look into these victims lives," aaron interrupted. "figure out what overlaps with what. something about these guys makes the unsub want to kill them and we need to figure it out. i want emily, y/n, and spencer to go to the most recent victims house and talk to their wives," you three nodded in agreement. "rossi and morgan go to the morgue to analyze the body further. jj you're with me at the precinct to see what the locals know."

—

you sat in the passenger seat, theories running through your mind about what could have been going on that made them a target for such murder. each of the men had children and wives, a life waiting for them at home. they had good jobs, they were financially stable so they wouldn't have owed anybody money.

"whatcha thinkin over there?" emily asked, peering over at your clearly confused state.

"just how it doesn't make sense that these men were killed," you furrowed your brows. "they had a family, a life to go back to. it just... it's not right."

"that's why we're here," spencer spoke up from the back seat. "to figure out why this is happening and put the killer away."

"i know," you sighed, turning to look out the window once more. "... i know."

"we'll figure it out, y/n," emily placed her hand comfortingly on your thigh. "we always do," she gave you a smile.

"right," you have her a tight-lipped smile in return.

once you arrived at the most recent victim's, christopher taylor's, house, you both noticed how nice the neighborhood was. it was a huge, two story house with an equally large backyard with a pool.

it reminded you a lot of your childhood home - the late nights beside the pool, waiting for your dad to get back home with you brothers, long before dad turned to alcohol. and then the very same house was tainted with violence and screaming, fears and hiding from your own dad.

not now, you thought. i need to focus.

walking up to the door, you rang the doorbell apprehensively, a little nervous to meet the grieving family. after a few seconds, the wife opened the door with a, clearly fake, smile adorned on her face.

"hi," the wife, stephanie, greeted you. "come on in," she stepped aside to allow you three inside.

"thank you, ma'am," you thanked her as you stepped inside. "i'm so sorry for your loss."

"oh um..." she trailed off. "thank you, it means a lot," she guided you all to the living room. "please, uhm - please, have a seat."

you sat between spencer and emily as stephanie sat on a chair adjacent to the couch, facing you all.

"would you like anything to drink? water? tea?" she asked eagerly before a child came running down the stairs, making their way beside their mom. "what're you doing, love bug? mommy has to talk to the police," she said sweetly to the 6-year old child.

"when's daddy coming home?" he asked with a sad tone, but something didn't sit right with you.

"he's not," she sighed as she placed a kiss to his hairline.

"what?" he asked in surprise. "he's not coming home?" his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened in shock.

"no, he's not, bug," she brushed his hair behind his ears, clearly trying to ground herself and not break down.

"here," emily spoke up. "why don't you go with ms. hotch and dr. reid and show them your room?" emily said excitedly to distract the child.

"yes! i just got a new race car i can show you!" he exclaimed as he jumped down from his mom's lap.

you and spencer gave her a smile as you got up from the couch, following the eager child up the stairs to his, rather large, room.

the room was spotless, not a toy out of place from his shelf as his bed was perfectly made. a little boy's room, especially one this young, would normally be a bit more disorganized. he didn't have any colorful art on his wall, no important pictures adorning his wall either. the personal aspect of his room was lost within the blue and yellow wallpaper, trapping his childhood and joy in the obvious restrictions placed on him by... not his mother.

she was loving and kind to him, she didn't fake her adoration for her child. so it was probably his dad, placing responsibility on him by making him be the "man of the house" at such a young age. but how far down did that responsibility go?

"hey james," you bent down to his level, speaking in a high register voice. "how about that car?"

"dad won't let me play with it because it's a collectible car but it looks really cool on the shelf!" he pointed up on the shelf to a level he wouldn't be able to reach. "super cool, right?"

"so cool, little man!" you exclaimed. "did your dad not let you play with these other cars?" you asked curiously.

"only at a specific time with his permission. he doesn't want me to break anything again, and neither do i..." he trailed off with big eyes, reliving the time he might've once broken an item.

"what happened when you broke something," spencer piped in, bending down to his level to talk in the same voice you had earlier.

"oh, that," he sighed as he sat down in the chair by his desk. "one time i was playing with a car i got for my birthday when he didn't tell me i could and then when i accidentally knocked over a vase in the living room, he wouldn't let me play with them for a whole week! then he started yelling at mommy for letting me make the mess so i told him it was my fault and he spanked me really hard because i was being bad. so now i don't touch my toys unless he says so," the boy shrugged.

"where did your dad spank you, james?" you asked l, apprehensive of the response.

"he spanked me with his belt on my back, but the bruises went away after a while," he shrugged.

you looked over at spencer, giving him a look that you shared. the little boy didn't know he was a victim of abuse. then that feeling filled back up inside of you... the feeling of fear and worry.

no, you thought once more. i have to focus.

"you won't have to worry about that anymore, buddy," you gave him an apathetic smile, rubbing his back gently.

"i miss my dad," he frowned, walking closer into your touch.

"i know buddy," you enveloped him in your arms, brushing through the hair on his scalp to try and calm him down.

because you understood the pain. you didn't know why your dad had been so cruel, but that didn't stop you from missing him after his death. the confusion, the mixed emotions. while you wouldn't have to face the harshness of his hand or the angry tone of his voice, you would never get to ask him why. why he was so angry all the time? why he would always blame his family for a rough case? why he ruined your childhood...

"hey guys," emily knocked on his door. "we can uhh... make our way out now."

"alright," you pulled back from james. "if you need anything, ask your mom to call ms. y/n, alright? she has my number."

"alright ms. y/n," james agreed, wiping the tears from his face.

"i know how confusing you must feel right now, james. but just know how much your mom loves you," you smiled. "and know that you didn't deserve anything your dad did to you. it's not your fault, none of it was."

"thank you," he grinned weakly before you stood up and left the room, not failing to give him a kind smile as you walked out of the room.

when you caught up with spencer and emily, you joined them in the car.

"christopher was abusive," emily said blatantly.

"he beat james and yelled at his mom because james had broken a vase," you informed emily.

"he would constantly abuse his wife, verbally and physically. she tried to deny it before she just admitted outright that he was violent and aggressive," she told you and spencer. "are you gonna be alright on this case?" she looked over at you.

"yea, of course," you chuckled before giving her a look and adding, "why wouldn't i be?"

"right," she nodded curtly. "sorry."

spencer wasn't stupid.

he was a profiler. he could pick up on your odd behavior. the way you comforted james was all too familiar to you, as if someone had comforted you that way as a child. and he heard the way you reassured james about his father's violence. while in the back of his mind all he could focus on was how great you were to the child, imagining you as a mother yourself, possibly to his children - which he knows is extremely premature - he couldn't help but profile how you had acted. but he also wanted you to want to open up to him about it, so he wouldn't bring anything up.

so he acted like he wasn't there.

—

"alright, so we're presenting the profile in a half hour," aaron announced to the team. "we need to emphasize the importance of keeping this under wraps. this unsub is killing for attention, we shouldn't give it to him because that would make him kill even more."

maybe you were anxious. scratch that. you were anxious. how were you supposed to catch a killer ridding the world of abusive fathers? an unsub who was abused himself and wanted to lessen the pain of wives and children? it just didn't make sense to you, which wasn't ideal since you had to catch the killer, no matter what it took.

"y/n?" spencer's voice broke you from your own thoughts, you hummed in response. "you alright? you were pretty out of it there."

"right... sorry," you chuckled. "i'm alright," a pitiful smiled displayed on your lips.

"are you sure?" he placed a gentle hand on your back before sitting in the seat beside you. "if you need to talk about it, now or later, i'm always open."

"thank you, seriously, but i'm alright," you assured him, placing a hand on his forearm.

he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by morgan knocking on the door, announcing that they were preparing for the profile outside.

you walked out into the pit, helping set the board up with the information you had found out about the victims. you turned around, facing the entire police station, ready to tell them about the killer who was bound to go on a spree.

as your brother began speaking, you got lost in your own thoughts once again. wondering if you would have to kill the unsub. wondering what would happen to all of the others business fathers and families if nobody stopped their torment.

thoughts... memories... emotions flooded your memory. your mind was clouded by the past.

your heart began racing.

your vision blurred.

before you knew it, your feet were carrying you out of the building, trying to get yourself some fresh air. you sat down on a nearby bench and buried your face in your hands, between your knees. once you felt your breathing had evened out, you rose your head from between your knees to take a deep breath. you wiped your face if any remaining tears just in time, because spencer slowly sat down beside you on the bench, a pitiful smile on his face.

"what?" you huffed, placing your head back into your hands.

"you just..." he trailed off. "i know something's wrong, y/n. whether or not you'll admit it, which you need to do. pushing it all down won't help anything."

"i'm fine, spencer!" you shouted. "god, why can't you just accept that i'm fine? i'm alright. i'm totally fine with the fact that we have to imprison a guy who's killing terrible fathers and probably making the world a better place! i'm fine with the fact that the families are better off with those men dead! and most of all, i'm fine with the fact that my dad is dead and i don't have any answers as to why he..." you trailed off, sighing as you calmed down a little bit. "i'm sorry."

"you don't have to be sorry," he smiled, placing a hand on your back. "look... i didn't want to say anything, but i think i know what's wrong."

you lifted your head to see him, "you do?"

"yea, i do," he reached over to wipe the tears you didn't know were still flowing off your cheeks. "you don't have to talk about it yet, or with me at all. but when it gets too bad and you need to speak with somebody just know i'm here."

you didn't really know what to say. you yelled at him and he's offering you support. what would've normally warranted someone getting angry and storming off made him kind and supportive.

"uhm, than-thank you," you leaned into his touch, eyeing his lips as he did yours.

you brought your hands to hold his forearms and cup the back of his neck. you pulled him in closer to your face slowly, both unaware of why you were doing so but feeling the need to. like a moth drawn to a flame, you had to have him. you had to know what his lips felt like against yours, what he tasted like. would he passionate, or gentle? maybe a mixture of both. regardless, you had to know. you had to find out.

and then emily busted through the doors of the station, leaving the two of you to jump to opposite sides of the bench.

"y/n," she greeted you, her brows furrowing when she saw spencer with you. "... and spencer... are you alright-y/n, that is."

"uhm," you cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. "yea, i'm all good," you eyed spencer, who was staring straight at you, surely wondering what would've happened if emily hadn't came out of the building.

you almost kissed spencer. you wanted to kiss spencer. you still want to kiss him.

"spencer here talked me through it," you chuckled, nudging his shoulder slightly to draw his attention back to emily, away from you.

"yup," he gave a tight-lipped smile.

"oh, that's a relief," emily sighed. "well garcia called in the middle of the profile and said she created a possible victim list the unsub might target next based on the geo profile reid created."

"that's great! how long is the list?" you asked eagerly, leaning forward to show your engagement.

"there are 4 possible locations and because the unsub has been decreasing his cool-down period, we should all split up and go to each house to ensure their safety," emily listed off to the two of you. "i'm here to tell you how were splitting up. it'll be you two, morgan and i, jj and hotch and rossi will be by himself. there sending a few swat agents with each of us to ensure safety."

"alright. i'm assuming garcia will send us the address?" spencer asked.

"yup. they should be on your phones now," she confirmed. "we're still going to try and connect leads while separated, this is purely just a caution so we don't have any more victims while we're here."

"of course. that makes sense," you agreed.

"alright, well, you have the keys to an suv?" she asked, making sure you could drive yourselves to the location.

"yup, they're right here," you dig into your pocket and showed her the keys.

"so i'm gonna go see if morgan is ready to go," she announced as she walked back into the station, the two of you following behind to grab your go-bags.

when you arrived at the o'connell's home, you were quieter than anyone had expected. could anyone blame you? you were in the house of an abusive father in order to protect him.

"alright," the mother, julie, began, "i've set up the spare room for the two of you, if you decide to rest, that is. it's right by the front of the house, so if anything happens you would be right there."

"alright, ma'am," you smiled. "thank you."

"i'll be in my room if you need me; jonny is in his room, and my husband will be with me," she announced before walking up the stairs to her room that was adjacent to jonny's.

"i don't think i'll be able to sleep," you whispered to spencer once you had gotten into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. spencer sat down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

"okay," he squeezed with the slightest pressure, only enough to ensure you knew he was there.

"maybe that's best. so i'll be fully alert if the unsub gets here while you're asleep," you stared blankly at the floor, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed.

"you'll wake me up if he does come?" spencer asked for the reassurance; you nodded your head 'yes.'

you finally broke your attention from the floor and scooched up to the headboard of the bed, your back against it. you looked over at spencer who was just staring at you confused.

"are you gonna sleep or what?" you smiled before he returned the favor, scooting up to meet you on the bed, only he rested his head on a pillow.

after about two minutes, you felt his arm being thrown over your lap, moving you closer to him before he nuzzled into your stomach. he used his other arm to secure your position with him, sighing into your tummy contently. you brought your hand to his hair and began playing with it mindlessly.

you didn't sleep at all.

you were wide awake while tracing spencer's skin or playing with his hair. nobody came-not even a car drove by. spencer had woken up at one point, only for you to hum him back to sleep after ensuring that everything was alright.

garcia had gotten a list of the possible unsubs, everyone who had abusive parents, anger issues, and lived 5-10 miles around the comfort zone. you studied the files the entire day, not having a single break through. it was very dull.

the next night, however, was a bit more hectic.

you had been awake for over 36 hours, so you had been feeling that tired-high that kept you going. this time, you were reading a book spencer had let you borrow when you heard something at the back door. your phone was in your bag, which was in the living room. luckily, you had your gun beside the bed, like always. you maneuvered around spencer so you could stand up, wanting to be sure there was danger before disturbing him.

you recalled the facts of the case - the profile.

he would enter through the front door, clearly not this time since he had heard of the police presence. he would ensure the child's sleeping before subduing the wife in order to strangle the husband.

which meant you needed to go check on jonny.

you carefully trudged up the stairs, gun in hand as you made your way to his room. the door was cracked open, so you carefully peered inside. the man was hovering over the child, stroking his hair softly.

in order to ensure the child's safety, you backed away from the door so you could attack as he exited. you didn't expect the floor to creak - rather loudly - as you retreated.

you looked up to see the unsub wrangle jonny in his arms before you came through the door, gun ready and raised.

"let him go!" you sternly ordered as you realized who the unsub was.

michael burns.

his father had been so abusive, he not only killed his mother but almost killed him. he was 7 when he saw them get into a heated argument, his father ended up beating his mother to a pulp that night.

"no! i'm saving him!" he shouted back, pointing his gun at jonny's head.

you heard footsteps behind you, leading down the stairs. it was spencer taking the parents out of the house.

"do you really think killing him would be saving him, michael?" you asked in a soft, concerned voice.

"i wish someone had done it for me! it would've saved me all the pain!" he cried out, you felt his pain through his voice.

"i know you think that would've saved you from the pain, but how do you know what's best for jonny?" you asked.

"because i do!" he pushed the gun further into jonny's head, hearing jonny's whines echo even more. "put your gun down before i shoot him!" he ordered.

"okay, okay," you bent down on the floor, placing your gun down before you heard footsteps approach behind you.

"put the gun down!" spencer had ordered from behind you, you turned around to see him in a bullet-proof vest, gun raised directly at michael.

"no! NO!" he angrily chanted back at spencer.

"michael, focus on me," you put your hands out and up in defense. "just let jonny go, alright. we'll make sure his father pays for what he's doing to him and his mother."

"no you won't! it never works!" he held onto jonny tighter.

"i promise you, i promise, that we will make it work. we will make sure that jonny is never hurt again. we'll make sure his father goes to prison for a long time, alright?" you slowly walked closer to him, so he pointed his gun at you instead of the child. "see? that wasn't so hard, right?"

"stop it!" he ordered so you stopped your movements forward.

"it's alright," you softly announced before asking. "me for him, alright? just... just let him go."

"you're lying!"

"no, i'm not. i swear to you i'm not. i understand what you went through, okay? i know what it's like to not understand what you did to deserve the abuse and hurt your father put you through. but killing jonny won't fix anything," you told him, he softened a bit from what you revealed. "i had my brothers by my side when that would happen, so i can't imagine how much worse it was for you, michael. but i know that jonny deserves to live. he deserves to see tomorrow and feel the love he deserves, right?"

he slowly released his grip on the child, jonny ran straight into your arms as spencer grabbed his handcuffs and put them on michael, reading him his miranda rights.

"keep jonny safe. keep michael safe!" michael announced as he was escorted out of the room by spencer.

jonny was crying in your arms, clinging tightly to your shirt as he tried to calm himself down. but he didn't need to calm down. he needed to let it out. he deserved to let it all out. he deserved to cry as much as he wanted. and you couldn't help but cry with him. you tried to hold it all in, to be strong for the child in your arms, but you cracked the slightest bit as you felt him quivering in your arms.

"let it out jonny," you stroked his hair. "you're safe now," you placed a kiss on his hairline. "you're safe."

"thank you ms. y/n," he whispered a few minutes after he stopped crying, allowing you to pick him up and carry him to the back of an ambulance.

you didn't even know where his parents were. and quite frankly, you didn't care. you just needed jonny to be safe.

"it was absolutely no problem," you held his hand as the paramedics checked him out.

he didn't want to leave your side at all. when you went back to the precinct, he sat in your lap on the drive there and while you waited for his grandparents to arrive to pick him up at the police station. he cried when he had to go with them, not wanting to leave you after everything that had happened. so, upon his leaving, you made sure to give his grandparents your number so he could call you when he wanted to.

his grandparents were his mom's parents and were very kind people. you knew they wouldn't hurt him as his mom went through her in-patient victim counseling and his father was in jail.

"i don't wanna go," jonny whispered into your neck.

"i know, but nana and pawpaw are really sweet, right?" he nodded his head. "so if you ever need to talk to me, you can ask them to call and they will. i promise i will always answer," you squeezed him a bit tighter before releasing him from your embrace.

once boarding the plane, it was only five minutes after takeoff that you felt your phone ringing. you excused yourself as you took the call at the back of the plane. everyone noticed your exit.

"you think she'll be alright?" morgan asked spencer, whose gaze was still on where you had walked off.

"she's strong, independent, and resilient," spencer replied.

"that doesn't answer the question, reid," he squinted his eyebrows at the younger man, his attention finally going back to morgan.

"i think... i think she needs to work through her past. and we all have things we need to work through - myself included. i just want her to feel comfortable enough with us to... open up," the brunette doctor sighed, focusing back on his book for a millisecond.

"you like her," morgan smiled, jolting spencer's attention back onto morgan.

"what? why would y- you can't- just... shut up," he smiled, rolling his eyes at the more than accurate accusation.

"alright, pretty ricky," morgan chuckled, raising his hands as you came back to sit beside spencer, mumbling a gentle 'sorry.'

"was that jonny?" spencer asked quietly.

"mhmm," you smiled. "he's settled in at his grandparents house already. he said that they're already super nice to him and let him have dessert before dinner," you laughed quietly, yawning softly halfway through.

"you haven't slept in 47 hours," spencer announced. "try to rest."

"right, i probably should," you smiled before trying to get comfortable in your seat.

"you can lay in my lap if you'd prefer," he offered, lifting the armrest that was separating your seats.

"really?" he nodded his head before you curled your legs behind you in your seat.

you rested your head in his lap, your face nuzzled into his tummy as your arms mindlessly took his torso in your arms, much like he had the past couple of nights.

spencer had begun tracing the skin along your arm and running his hand through your hair as you slept. he smiled when he felt you squeeze him the slightest bit tighter in your sleep.

"pretty boy," morgan laughed at him. "you've got it bad, don't you?"

"again," he started. "shut up. she's sleeping; she hasn't rested in 47 hours."

morgan raised his hands in defense, knowing there was no other way to get himself out of trouble with spencer unless he just shut his mouth.

aaron knew his sister. he knew how she acted when she had a crush. he also knew how she acted when she was afraid of said crush. which means he knew that she had a bit more than a crush on spencer. you had been clinging to him in your sleep but when you were awake you tried to hide your need to do so. needless to say... you've got it bad for spencer. and aaron didn't even care because he thought - no, he knew - spencer was good for you.

"y/n," he whispered, gently nudging your shoulders to wake you. "we're back now."

you opened your eyes to see you were in a bureau-issued car. you wondered how you had gotten there before spencer informed you, "you were so knocked out i just carried you in here, don't worry," he stroked your hair as you sat straight up, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes.

"uhm, thank you," you stretched your back before you got out of the car, grabbing your things and making your way back inside the building, stumbling over your own feet as you do so.

once you were inside and grabbed your keys, aaron was behind you and cleared his throat to announce his presence. you turned around slowly, brows furrowed as you made eye contact with him.

"i don't think you're awake enough to make the drive back to your place," he said in his protective voice.

"are you kidding? what should i do? just stay here tonight?" you scoffed.

"no, reid will take you home," he motioned his head towards spencer, whose attention was just caught with his name being said.

"sir?"

"you're going to take y/n home and make sure she gets inside safely," hotch practically demanded, you sighed.

"sounds good," he did his signature 'white guy smile' before you handed your keys over.

"you get the weekend off!" he called out to the two of you as you walked away.

you nearly fell as you walked to the elevator so spencer had put his arm around you to keep you balanced. you leaned into his touch as he guided you to your car, helping you get in before he went to the driver's side.

"thanks for driving me," you mumbled as he drove.

"you're welcome," he smiled, looking over at your resting state.

your eyes were closed as your head lolled forward in the seat. he slowed the car down before he reached over, pushing your head to the side so you would curl into the seat, preventing you from getting a crick in your neck. you brought your hand to cup his as it lay over your shoulder, bringing it down to your lap and intertwining your fingers. he rubbed circles on the back of your hand as you fell asleep once again.

when you woke up, you were being carried up to your room by spencer. your arms were around his neck and your head rested against his chest - a rather firm chest. you squinted your eyes as they adjusted to the darkness.

"shh," he whispered to you. "i'm just gonna lay you down and head out, alright?"

"mm-mmm," you disagreed.

"no? you don't want to lay down?" he asked as he stopped in the doorway of your room.

"don't go," you pushed your head into his chest, breathing in the scent of him.

"what?" he asked as he continued his trek into your room, moving the sheets down so he could lay you down peacefully.

"stay here - with me," you held onto his hand limply to keep him from going. "please?" your eyes were a little glassy from the lack of sleep you had gotten.

"are you sure you want me to-" you interrupted him as he released your hand so he could take your shoes off for you.

"i don't want to be alone right now. so please just - just stay here," you tried to reason with him, pleading all that you could with as tired as you were.

"okay, i'll stay," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline before walking to the other side of your bed, presumably kicking his shoes off somewhere along the way.

when he finally made his way into the bed, you turned on your side to face him. you brought your hand to cup the side of his face gently, stroking the light stubble that traced along his face.

"when i was around 3, i believe, my dad started drinking," you began speaking to him softly. h brought his hand up to cover the one that was on his face.

"you don't have to tell me yet if you're not ready," he reminded you, squeezing your hand tenderly.

"i know. i'm ready now," you took a deep breath before continuing. "the stress from his job was a bit much - being a lawyer would do that to you," you chuckled. "he drank every day and when he would get back home from a rough case, he started to get aggressive. at first, it was just with his words but then... then it got physical."

spencer saw your eyes water as you continued telling him the history of your childhood. the pain, torment, trouble you went through as a child - a toddler. he couldn't help but realize that that's why hotch is the way he is. that's why he's guarded and stern - protective. he's just been accustomed to it since he was a child. he turned his face to press a gentle kiss to your palm, bringing a faint smile to your face.

"he first hit my mom. one day, i tried to stop him from hitting her," the tear trailed down your cheek. "only he hit me instead," spencer wiped it for you, keeping his hand there. "aaron and sean were always out for football practice or something with school. it was never their fault. i was just... i didn't realize that it was wrong, i suppose. i thought that i had done something wrong, so i'm getting punished. it made sense to me," you shrugged.

"but when aaron and sean were there one night when dad was angry, aaron had come out of his room and pulled dad off of me," you choked on a sob. "that night was a really bad one," you recalled. "but... as time went on, dad's health got worse. eventually, he died; he had a heart attack," you sighed. "and with his life went my answers as to why he did what he did."

there was a moment of silence between you two as if he needed the time to digest what he had been told. only he wasn't digesting it. he was more so admiring you. admiring your strength and persistence.

"some people say that a common trauma response in childhood results in just forgetting that it ever happened," you broke the silence. "i wish i had forgotten. i-i wish i had never remembered the man my father was. part of me feels terrible for saying this but i hate him."

"you aren't terrible for that," now spencer's face had tears that you wiped. "that's a more common response to trauma than forgetting it happened. please just don't say you're horrible for living through what you did. you're not terrible. saying 'you're terrible' is a paradox itself," you sniffled, smiling at his joke. "there she is," he smiled, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, watching as it bounced back into place.

"spencer..." your voice trailed off as your face inched closer to his.

and that curiosity you felt only days earlier of wanting - needing - to feel, and taste him was relinquished. your hand brought his chin closer to yours to connect your lips. it was a tame and light kiss as if he were frightened he might hurt you. it was when you applied more passion and fervent that he reciprocated the eagerness.

when you finally pulled back for air, his hand had been tangled in your hair as yours grasped his chin in an attempt to keep him here.

"wow," he whispered against your lips.

"yea... wow," you chuckled against his skin.

and for one moment you felt at peace with your past. you felt hopeful for your future. possibly the future you might have with spencer, if you'd let yourself think that.

but soon that moment would end and along with it the hopes of a future with spencer. the sun would set and rise as it once had with your mind racing along with the 'what-if's and 'maybe's.

but for now, you had spencer. and peace. and quiet. and sleep.

i don’t know if my current taglist would like to be added to the series taglist, but if you do please let me know!

#ssa hotchner #y/n hotchner #hotch #spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid series

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steppedoffaflight · 4 years

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 14

Catch up on Chapter 13 here

Van is done shaving, and comes into the living room dressed and ready for his ride to arrive. He ignores you as he peeks out of the front window blinds, before fussing with his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms. You realize that his entire shirt is one button off, and he was about to head out to the bar like that.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

“C’mere,” You urge him softly, but you walk to him instead. You swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to unbutton his shirt, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “You messed up a button.”

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

Van’s heading out for the night.

Word count: ~8.2k

A/N: content warning for some (pre-discussed) sex where one person is high but the other is sober

Chapter Fourteen August 2019

Van flew in on a Tuesday and is gone by Thursday, back to the U.K. to headline another festival. He promises to be back soon; August is full of sporadic free time between the festivals and radio events, a chance for the boys to recharge in preparation for the second leg of the United States tour that would be commencing in the fall and carry them until the Christmas season.

On that following Wednesday you’re curled up on your couch, drinking your coffee and scrolling through social media when your screen goes blank. There’s a moment of confusion before it lights up with Van’s call.

“Hey,” You answer hesitantly, expecting this to be some sort of mistake. He never calls this early.

“Hey!” Van sounds cheery and awake, the exact opposite of you at the moment. “You’re up! I timed it right!”

“You what?” You laugh, pulling away to look at the time. He’s called you at 6:15 on the dot. “You planned this?”

“Yeah! I wanted to catch you before you went to work!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, brightening up your mood slightly. You were currently wrestling with the dread in your stomach reminding you of all that would need to be done once you get to the office today. Even your usual avoidance tactic of mindlessly scrolling through social media wasn’t working that well.

“Good job,” You congratulate him before taking a sip of coffee. “How’s it going with your parents?”

Although Van could have flown back to the States immediately after the festival performances on Saturday and Sunday, he’d decided to spend a few nights at his parent’s place during the week, before coming back to California on Friday.

“Good,” Van hums, and you hear rustling in the background as he moves around. “They’re out at the shops right now to get stuff for tea.”

“Bet they love having you all to themselves.”

“Oh, they fucking do.” Van’s tone implies he doesn’t quite feel the same. “They’re cornering me every chance they get to give me a talking to.”

You think of the way Van described his parent’s adoration for him, and try to imagine what bone they could possibly have to pick with him. “A talking to? Why?”

“Because I don’t have any little ones!” His voice is high. “They’re asking me about getting married and shit! The farthest I’m looking into the future is January!”

Van had already started to express his excitement for the new year to you, when the band had a couple months of a clear schedule to get into the studio for the fourth album. Knowing his one-track mind when it comes to music, you actually feel sympathy for his parents trying to discuss anything else with him. It was a lost cause.

“Aw,” You coo, “They just want a little Van to hang out with when you’re on tour! Don’t be mean.”

“M’not tryin’ to be,” He sighs. “But I’m not worried about that stuff. I’m trying to get us selling out stadiums.”

A typical Van response. “Yeah,” You hum, feeling pity for him as well. As different as your lives were, the difficulties of being surrounded by family after being away for most of the year were one thing you shared. You know how the incessant questions and demand for every second of your free time gets to your head.

“Unless you’ve got a little one for me?” Van jokes before lowering his voice. “After last week?”

A startled laugh bursts down the line from you. “No, no,” You assure him quickly, before pausing. “Well, my period hasn’t come yet, so we’ll see.” You’re teasing, of course. It wasn’t due for a couple of days, and you were so religious about your birth control you had no doubts it’d arrive.

“Fingers crossed.”

“Van!”

“That it comes!” Van laughs. “Christ!”

You’re laughing with him, the heavy feelings of dread having been chased away. But if you didn’t get off the couch soon you’d be running late. “I gotta go get ready for work,” You tell him, still grinning.

“Yeah, alright. I just really needed to speak to someone sane,” Van sighs. “Have a good day.”

“I will,” You lie, finishing off the rest of the coffee in your mug with two gulps. “You can text me anytime you need some extra sanity.”

“Keep me in your prayers,” He says dryly. “See you Friday.”

Your period arrives that night, light and pleasantly early. Even without any doubt, Van’s joke had put a niggling sense of worry in the back of your mind, and you were relieved to put it to rest.

Thursday is business as usual, but on Friday your excitement about seeing Van is dampened significantly when you realize you’ve bled through your tampon overnight, rushing to throw your soiled underwear and sheets in the washer before work. Things only get worse from there; the entire day at your desk you’re seized by merciless cramps, accompanied by the constant need for trips to the bathroom. You’d wanted to surprise Van by picking him up at the airport that evening, but instead you let him Uber over, hoping he’s not too disappointed.

As soon as you hear the knock at your door you launch yourself off of the couch, hurrying to answer it.

There’s been a post-airplane Van McCann delivered to your porch, complete with all of his luggage. His face lights up as soon as the door swings open.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” You reply as you help him roll his two suitcases into the living room. His backpack has slipped off of the one shoulder it was resting on, and you grab the handle of it, untangling it from his arm. There’s some commotion as Van shrugs his leather jacket off, hanging it neatly on the hooks on the wall next to the door, and shimmies out of his boots, but after that small delay he goes for his usual hug, you two clinging to each other.

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up,” You say into the shoulder of his t-shirt.

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Van brushes you off as he pulls away. “I wouldn’t wanna deal with the airport after working all day either. I’m here now, right?”

You smile at his optimism. As you grab the television remote, pausing your show and shutting down the TV, Van rolls his two suitcases into the empty guest bedroom before taking his backpack into your room.

“Are you washing the sheets?” He calls from the other room, and you realize that you’d been so caught up in Netflix you’d forgotten to make the bed before Van arrived.

“Yeah!” You call as you head to the small laundry room adjacent to the kitchen. “They’re done now, though!”

You hear the soft footsteps of Van in his socks as he follows you into the laundry room, prepared to help you carry the dried bedding to your room.

When you hand Van the rumpled ball of your comforter, he takes a moment to sniff it. “Clean sheets for me? You shouldn’t have!”

You knock the dryer door closed with your foot, trailing behind Van with the sheets. “You wish,” You tease him, dropping the pile of fabric on your bare mattress. “I bled through them, actually.”

You weren’t one to coddle grown men when it comes to the reality of periods, but once the words were out of your mouth you found yourself hoping they didn’t gross Van out too much.

“Ah.” Van nods in understanding, starting to unravel the fitted sheet. “So no little ones?”

“Will you stop?” You laugh, assisting Van in the task of attempting to get the elastic wrapped around the bed. “If you keep jinxing it I’m going to make you wear a condom again.”

“Consider my lips sealed, then.”

You smile to yourself as you two finish up the bed. It’s amazing how much Van coming over feels so natural; You’ve missed the constant joking, and forgotten how easily you two coexist in the same space. You wonder if it ever gets less exciting to see him after trips; each time it feels like a dream that he’s physically here with you. So far, that sense of wonder hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s only exacerbated the longer you two are friends, not to mention the way he’s always so happy to see you.

“Does pizza sound good for dinner?” You ask him. You hoped it did, because you had been craving it terribly all day. Also, it was the only thing that sounded even remotely appetizing with the way your hormones were causing chaos in your stomach. Besides ice cream. You wonder if you still had a carton in the freezer, or if Van would be in the mood to go get some at the soft serve place down the road.

“Pizza sounds great.”

Van does the honors of putting the order in via his app, so that dinner is his treat tonight. You two spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch, plunging back into your favorite Netflix show together as you both chow down on your spectacular dinner choice. It occurs to you for the first time tonight that you share a Netflix show with Van; one that neither of you watch when you’re apart. You wonder if there’s even a small chance that he’ll ever see you as more than a friend with benefits.

You’re awake before Van on Saturday morning, and thankfully haven’t bled onto the sheets.

Your period is still excessively heavy, and you curse the universe for doing this to you the weekend Van has to be over. There’s plenty of days he isn’t around! Why must you bleed yourself to death the days he is?

It’s one of those mornings that feel like a car stalling, refusing to get moving. You have a cup of coffee, check the news on your phone, like a few instagram posts, and watch some morning talk shows before deciding to nestle back in bed. Van’s still dead to the world as you tuck yourself in, his body wiped from the jet-lag.

The second time you wake up is to a very disoriented Van fumbling around by your nightstand.

“What are you doing?” You groan, pulling your pillow over your head to try to block out the blaring afternoon sun shining through the cracks in your blinds. You knew it was futile, and you wouldn’t be able to return peacefully to sleep now.

“Charging my phone,” Van’s voice crackles as he speaks. You peek out from the shade of your pillow to see him shove your charger into his phone, setting it on your bedside table next to yours.

“What time is it?” You mumble, regretting it when Van nudges the pillow off of your face.

“Hm?”

“I said what time is it!” You whine, tugging your pillow back into place. Your cramps hadn’t been around while you were having coffee, but they’ve definitely arrived now. Maybe you could just suffocate yourself with the pillow and be done with it.

There’s the soft tap of Van checking your phone screen. “Almost one.”

“Let’s go back to sleep,” You try. Maybe if Van lays down again you could get him to cuddle you.

“I just slept for thirteen hours,” Van snorts. “Come have a cig. Do you have eggs?”

You heave yourself up dramatically, nodding as you wipe the hair out of your face.

“Do you want some eggs and toast? I can fry up some mean breakfast potatoes too if you’ve got some.”

Your stomach growls. “Yeah, I’ve got potatoes.”

You mope to the bathroom before meeting Van in the kitchen. He’s left a cigarette and his lighter on the counter for you, and you take your first puff as he shuffles around in the fridge, his own cigarette already dangling from his mouth.

“Can you reach up into that cabinet?” You ask as he starts to lay out his ingredients on the counter. You’re grateful you remembered to get a fresh carton of eggs the last time you were at the store.

Van swings the cabinet open. “Pass me the ibuprofen. No, other bottle,” You instruct him, before he passes over the correct pill bottle.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, watching you wash your ibuprofen down with a swig of his coffee.

“These cramps are fucking killing me,” You complain as you pass the bottle back, Van tucking it back on its shelf. “They’re not usually this bad.”

Van hums to show he’s listening, but you leave it at that.

You prep the potatoes while Van makes you both a plate of eggs, peeling and slicing them exactly as Van demands. He didn’t lie about his potato-frying abilities, and soon you’re both seated at the table with heaping piles of fluffy eggs and crispy potatoes, ravenous after sleeping way too late. Neither of you realize you’ve forgotten to make toast until you’re done eating.

Afterwards, you two pass the rest of your afternoon away on the couch, watching television. Van lets you nestle yourself under his arm, cramming your legs into the depths of the couch cushions so that you can press your body against his, your head resting comfortably on his chest.

When TV starts to get boring Van maneuvers to the YouTube app, determined to show you a few of the band’s performances. He’d only recently become aware how much you really didn’t know about them, and was determined to bring you up to speed. You had tried to stay clueless on purpose; you figured if you went full-on-fangirl, scouring social media for content and insider information, that you’d probably look at the boys in a different light. You liked that you hadn’t been a fan of them when you’d met Van, and that you had no social media persona to compare to the boys you hang out with in the flesh. But you figure there’s no harm in watching a few performances of the setlist you’d already seen three times, especially when Van is so proud to show them to you.

You’re watching on-screen Van belt out Twice when you realize Van’s been texting through the last three songs. Obviously, watching videos of himself is probably not the most entertaining thing in the world for him, but you couldn’t bear for his attention to be elsewhere.

“Stop texting,” You whine, rubbing your cheek against his shirt.

“Sorry,” Van mumbles, but he still doesn’t put his phone down. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

Despite feeling like hell warmed over, you perk up. “Where?”

“Out to the pub. A couple of mates are in town and want to catch me for some late birthday drinks.”

You sink back into Van’s chest, disappointed. You were hoping Van had been proposing a dinner for just the two of you, like you hadn’t had since the first time he ever took you out. You were craving something romantic like that from him. Why hadn’t you ever gone out on another date? It must be because that’s when he realized he wasn’t interested in you romantically. Sure, you two have had some romantic moments in the comfort of your own homes, but there was something about getting dressed up and going out that felt so much more official and exciting.

“Nah,” You tell him. “I feel like shit.”

“You’ll be okay if I go?”

You rest your chin on his chest, peering up at his concerned face. “Yes! I can even pick you up, if you want.”

At this, Van breaks out into a grin. “You’d do that for me? That’d be ace, actually.”

You push the hair from his face, realizing you’d just agreed to stay up tonight waiting on his call. “Of course,” You assure him, before pressing your cheek back into his shirt. “But if I’m gonna have to wait up then let me sleep on you until you’ve got to get ready.”

You hear Van set his phone down on the coffee table. “What about a li’l kip? Throw that blanket over us, will ya?”

You unravel the blanket in question, draping it over both of your bodies as you two wiggle into a comfortable position. Van is warm and soft, and the sound of his breathing creates the perfect conditions for you to doze off almost immediately.

You both wake up to the alarm Van’s set, your domestic bliss ruined by Van needing to get ready for the bar. You stay slumped on the couch, watching in amusement as he hauls one of his suitcases out of the guest bedroom, rifling through it for his toothbrush and the least wrinkled button up he’d packed. He’s such a chaotic, last-minute type of person, and there’s something about getting to enjoy the show without actually having to get yourself ready that cheers you up.

Van is blow drying his hair into his typical waves when you shift on the couch and swear you feel the familiar warmth of your tampon leaking.

You try to hold still. Van will be leaving soon, and you can worry about it then. But then you cringe as you feel the sensation again, and then you remember you’re not wearing a liner right now, and you stand up from the couch.

“Hey, can I steal the bathroom for a sec?” You ask, hesitant to disturb Van. He’s got shaving cream on his face, and he looks at you in disbelief.

“Right this second?” He asks, but his tone lets you know it’s a trick question. He’s rushing to run the razor over his jaw, and you cringe, expecting him to cut himself moving that quickly.

“I just need it really quick,” You plead, dreading the surprise that awaits when you pull down your underwear.

“Y/N,” Van huffs. He hasn’t even looked over at your reflection standing in the doorway, too focused on shaving. “I’m in the middle of having a shave and I’m gonna be late! I don’t care if you take a fucking shit in front of me! Have at it!”

“Okay, oh my God, fine!” You snap, stomping behind Van to the toilet. You tried to be polite, but if he was going to be a jerk, why even bother?

You yank down your underwear, and predictably they’re soiled with a nice-sized red inkblot where your tampon had leaked. You kick off your sweatpants in order to get your underwear off. Guess you’d be doing a load of laundry tonight while you waited on Van.

You tug your tampon out, which is horrifically, overly full. You’ve got to dispose of it in your bathroom trash, which you keep in the cupboard under the sink, which Van is currently blocking as he stands in front of the sink.

“Can you move?” You snarl, still annoyed with him for not giving you privacy. His head jerks down to look at you, and you can see the anger flash through his eyes at your words. Just as he’s opening his mouth, no doubt to chew you out, you see his eyes dart to the tampon precariously dangling between your fingertips, stained and dripping onto the toilet seat.

He shuts his mouth and steps back, allowing you to open the cupboard with one hand and dispose of the tampon in the other. You scowl as you wipe yourself and insert a new tampon before snatching your underwear and sweats, marching out of the bathroom pantsless.

You immediately treat your underwear with stain remover, throwing them directly into the washer. Then you storm room to room, looking for other articles of clothing to wash with it. You weren’t going to go through all this hassle over one fucking item of clothing.

But even after emptying your bedroom hamper and throwing the kitchen hand towels in for the sake of it, there’s still only enough clothes to coat the metal bottom of the barrel. You decide to go through Van’s suitcase sitting out on the living room floor. You angrily sniff each stupid button up and matching black shirt, throwing them with all of your might towards the kitchen so they’d be easier to get into the laundry room. Why was this entire suitcase full of identical clothes? Why didn’t he ever wear any fucking color except black or navy blue? At this rate he might as well just keep two of the same outfit and rotate through them!

With his dirty jeans, socks, shirts and underwear, there’s finally enough things to consider starting the washer worthwhile. You’re still upset, pouring fabric softener over Van’s clothes at the top of the pile as if you’re dousing them with gasoline, and slamming the lid shut with a loud metal echo as you get the water running. Then you head into your bedroom, get some fresh pants on, and resume your spot on the couch.

Van is so fucking annoying!!! You immediately send to Mary.

You wait for her to respond before you send her the scalding paragraph explaining the situation that you’ve already started mentally drafting. In the meantime you flick through other apps, angry at everyone living their perfect little lives on instagram, and tweeting about their perfect little significant others on twitter.

But the longer you sit there, the more your anger starts to fade. You think back to Van’s face when you bitched at him, and how he didn’t even react. He hadn’t even been that rude, now that you reflect on the situation. He was only in a rush. Soon you’re left with just a cold pit in your stomach, and the embarrassment of realizing you’d completely overreacted.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

Van snorts at your words, tugging you in. “I should’ve just stepped out for a sec.”

“You were in a rush,” You excuse him tearfully. Why are you on the verge of crying? You realize you sound pathetic, but there’s nothing you can do about it. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I feel really bad.”

Van gives you a soft smile, before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You’re forgiven.”

“I hope I am. I’ve got all your dirty clothes from your suitcase in the washer.”

“Oh, you’re definitely forgiven now,” Van grins. There’s the shine of headlights against the blinds, and Van peeks out again. “Okay, gotta go. I’ll call ya!”

And with that he’s bouncing out of the front door, and the countdown starts until you’ve got to go retrieve him from whatever state he drinks himself into.

You can’t doze off. You’ve just gotta stay busy. That’s your mantra as the hours pass. You finish up the load of laundry, you clean the bathroom that Van’s ripped through like a tornado, and then you get engrossed in the book you’re reading. It’s tempting to think that you’ll wake up to your ringtone if you turn your phone up, but you know better. Once you’re out for the night you sleep like a rock.

At one A.M. your contacts are dried out for the day, and you exchange them for your glasses. At two you have to force yourself to sit upright on the couch, because sprawling out is making your body feel too warm and heavy. And at three you decide to step out onto the porch and have a cigarette for some fresh air.

Your phone is wedged in the crack of the couch, and as soon as you’re in from your cigarette you check your notifications. In the few minutes you were away from your phone there’s now one new notification, a missed call from Van. Before you can return the call, your phone is ringing again.

“You ready?” You greet him. You feel more awake, a fresh bolt of excitement shooting through you at the fact you’re going to see him again, and get to sleep next to him tonight.

“I am,” Van confirms. “I thought you fell asleep.”

There’s a slur around the edges of his words, and you’re excited to get to converse with drunk Van tonight, even though he’s not so different from sober Van.

“Nope! Just having a cigarette. Where am I going?”

There’s some commotion on the end of the line as you listen to Van ask another person where he’s at, but then he’s able to give you someone’s address. Apparently someone had decided to keep the night going at one of their houses rather than head to another bar.

There’s never a time that L.A. is fully asleep, but if you had to pick a good time to be on the road it would be now, at three in the morning. The traffic is minimal, and although you struggle to find Van’s friend’s place amidst the subdivision of identical homes, eventually Van steps outside and you see his lanky silhouette stumbling down the driveway a few houses down the street. You pull forward and he climbs into the front passenger seat.

“Have fun?” You ask, as Van buckles himself in.

“Yeah,” Van nods. His voice sounds a bit dreamy, like his head’s in the clouds. “It was nice catching up with them.”

The ‘them’ in question were a few other indie artists signed to the same label as Catfish. Van mumbles for a bit about their conversations and a new single they had played him that was supposed to impact radio in the next week or so. You’re not listening too intently, humming along in response as you get back on the main roads.

You suddenly spot the bright golden arches of a McDonald’s sign, and your stomach growls. You know if you don’t have a late night snack now, your stomach would never let you sleep.

“Hungry?” You ask as you start to turn into the drive thru. Whether or not Van wanted something, you were definitely getting some fries. And maybe a McChicken, come to think of it.

“No, I’m fine,” Van says, tapping away at his phone. He was texting someone, his fingers composing a message at rapid speed before you watch the bubble slide up as he sends it. Who the hell was he texting this late?

“Who are you texting?” You ask as soon as you’re done placing your order at the window. You keep your voice light, hoping to seem conversational rather than nosy.

“Um, Bond.” Van tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, was he out with you guys?”

“No. I just wanted to send him a quick note about a riff before I forgot.”

You roll your eyes to yourself, even if you feel a swell of affection for him. Van McCann, classic workaholic even when he’s drunk.

“Can we turn the air up?” Van sighs suddenly, shifting around in his seat. “It’s sweltering.”

There’s a breeze flowing through your open window that’s giving your arms goosebumps, but you suppose it probably feels humid for Van since his window is closed. “Yeah, turn it up.”

You don’t expect him to crank the knob to the highest setting, sending ice cold air blasting through the vents.

You leave the air conditioning alone as you pull forward to get your bag of food, but as soon as your window is closed the cabin of the car is freezing. You click the knob back a few settings, so a snowstorm is no longer roaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” Van huffs, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m dying!”

“I’m dying!” You protest, “You’re trying to freeze me out!”

“Freeze you out?” Van argues, “You’ve basically got it on heat!”

You look over at him in utter confusion. The temperature setting was set to coldest and the vents were blowing at a higher setting than you ever bothered to use. In the glow of the red light you were currently stopped at, you could see that Van was very visibly sweating.

As you continue the route back to your house, Van goes so far as to undo all his buttons, tugging his shirt off of his shoulders so that he was sitting there in only his black t-shirt. So dramatic.

“Can I have some chips?” Van asks, but without further ado he’s pulled a few fries from the brown bag with his fingertips, chowing down. You sigh, but let him get away with it.

When he goes to take another handful, you reach over without looking, snatching the bag from his lap. “You said you didn’t want anything!”

“I don’t! They just smell good!”

The road is empty, so you glance over at Van in frustration. He’s staring at you in annoyance, wide eyed like he doesn’t see a problem with him helping himself to your food. Maybe you wouldn’t notice on someone with darker colored eyes, but immediately you’re startled to see there’s almost no blue to his irises.

It all clicks together in your head suddenly. “Are you high?”

Van’s jaw hangs open slightly, but he doesn’t dispute it. The overheating, the dilated pupils, being an absolute spaz texting Bondy about guitar solos in the middle of the night. All of the signs are there.

“You took ecstasy, didn’t you?” You grin in delight at having figured it out, poking at his chest. His body is radiating heat. “You did! Admit it!”

“I didn’t lie!” Van crosses his arms, slumping back in his seat as he offers you a lopsided grin. “I never said I didn’t!”

You pull onto your street, Van trailing behind you as you head into the house with your bag of food, not trusting him with it. “Well, you can stay up all night, but I’m going to bed.”

“M’not gonna be up all night,” Van tells you, but he’s vibrating with energy as he sits down on the couch next to you.

You tug your McChicken out of the bag, unwrapping it immediately so you can take the first bite. You only shrug. Although you had occasionally been around others who were on molly, Van was the only one of you two with first-person experience.

“Hey,” Van says suddenly. “You’re wearing your glasses.”

“I am.” He’s seen you in them on rare occasions, but tonight he’s looking at you intently like he’s seeing them for the first time.

“You look hot,” He says finally.

You almost choke on the fry you’re swallowing. “Yeah right. Shut up.”

“You do! Like a sexy secretary.”

You roll your eyes, not justifying him with a response. There was a distinct difference between a secretary in a revealing button up and a short skirt, and you sitting there on your couch in one of Van’s crewnecks you’d stolen on a night you’d stayed over and baggy, shapeless sweatpants. But if Van was high enough to confuse the two, more power to him.

“I’m going to bed,” You announce after you’d finished off your McChicken. There’s a handful of fries left in the red cardboard packaging, and you shake them at Van in offering. He takes them gratefully.

“Not without me,” He says with his mouth full, inhaling your leftover fries and standing up from the couch with you. You gather up all of your trash, piling it in the bag before heading to the kitchen to throw it out.

Van follows you into the bedroom, and you startle when his fingers sneak under the hem of your crewneck.

“What are you doing?” You laugh, elbowing him as he brings his hands to your stomach, pulling you backwards into his chest. “Let me get ready for bed!”

The more you struggle against him the tighter he holds you, his fingers trailing up your ribs and to your chest. You continue to attempt to fight him off, giggling the entire time.

“Don’t you try to sneak second base,” You tease, his hands coming back out of your sweatshirt, although he still wraps his arms around your middle, his nose coming into your hair.

“You’re soft,” He whines, running his hands up and down your front over your clothes. “And you smell good.”

“If you wanna cuddle me, get in bed.” You finally shake yourself free of his embrace, shedding your borrowed sweatshirt and heading for the dresser to grab a sleep shirt. Van isn’t discreet with the way he’s staring at your topless figure, practically drooling as he peels away his own shirt and undoes his belt.

Climbing into bed after your long night waiting for Van feels like heaven, and you’re relieved to fold up your glasses and perch them on your bedside table, the true mark of a day ending.

Van climbs in beside you, and you click the lamp off, the room going pitch black. You flip on your side so that you’re facing Van. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, the streetlights glowing through the window and barely illuminating his face.

“Can I have that cuddle now?” He asks quietly, and you laugh, wiggling closer to him as a yes.

You expect him to wrap his arm around you, but instead his fingers sneak right back under your shirt, before he slides his palm against the small of your back, rubbing up and down. You close your eyes, soothed by the sweep of his hand, before you feel his hair tickling your nose and his lips on your neck.

“Van,” You huff in surprise. “That’s not cuddling!”

“Sure it is.” You can hear the laughter in Van’s voice as he resumes kissing up and down the line of your neck. It feels pretty fucking good, so you close your eyes and relax against your pillow.

“It’s not,” You still reply, not willing to let him have the last word. “But you’re lucky you’re good with your mouth.”

Van moans against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you,” He confesses as he stops kissing your neck in favor of joining your lips. As he licks into your mouth he starts to maneuver you onto your back, his hand now rubbing your side as he starts to hover over you. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

His words send a shiver up your spine, even though you’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to. The kissing? Your skin? He’s kissing you with more urgency now, and your hand comes up to his cheek. His skin is smooth and soft from his shave, and you swipe your thumb back and forth.

“Oh shit, that feels so good,” Van groans, and you feel it right in the depths of your belly.

“This?” You ask, swiping your thumb again.

“Yeah,” Van pants, kissing you harder. “Just touch me. Touch me everywhere, fuck.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement to get your hands on him. Your hands roam all over, scratching his scalp, the back of his neck, his shoulders. You feel him break out in goosebumps as you trace your fingertips against the bumps of his spine.

“Don’t stop,” Van pleads when you pause, lost in the kissing for a moment. You think back to that conversation you’d had on the patio about how much he liked taking ecstasy. You hadn’t realized he enjoyed it this much.

“Are you gonna come?” You can’t help but ask, because you realize now he wasn’t kidding about simple touches putting him on the verge. He was still in his briefs, but he was clearly rock hard.

“Fuck if I know. It feels like I already have,” Van nuzzles against your chest, practically purring when you put your hands in his hair again. “Oh, fuck, just like that.”

You laugh in surprise at his words. “Is it really that good?”

Van swears again as you give the back of his neck and gentle squeeze, and you take that as a yes.

“Let me fuck you,” Van pleads, sitting up so he can look directly into your eyes. He’s clearly out of his mind with desire. “Please.”

“You won’t last,” You joke, stroking your thumb over one of his nipples. He shudders helplessly.

“Don’t I know it,” He laughs at himself. “But you’re so fit. Please.”

“I dunno.” Your hesitation looks like it’s causing Van an excruciating amount of pain. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“We’ve talked about it when I had my head on right,” Van begs, watching as you trail one single finger up and down his stomach and chest. “Plus, you’re my best friend.”

He must be extraordinarily high if he’s slipped on his favorite British slang of best mate. You can tell that waiting for your word is intensely tortuous for him.

“Uh, no to fucking,” Comes your ultimate decision, realizing that’d be logistically hard to navigate with your period and a hazy Van. “But lay down. And get your underwear off.”

Van scrambles to do as you say, all of his limbs vibrating with need. When you climb down between his legs, nudging his thighs open, you feel them try to close instinctively.

“Don’t smother me,” You warn him, but your voice is lacking any actual threat. Van pants as you press his knees open, and after a moment’s consideration you sneak your fingers underneath them. It’s a sensitive spot for him on a regular day, but he jumps out of his skin at your gentle touch tonight. God, ecstasy-high Van was so fun to explore. Even in the extremely low light of the room you can see how badly his dick is craving to be touched, flushed and curved against his lower belly and shiny with precome.

You knew that foreplay wasn’t an option here, so with one calculated motion you’ve pulled Van’s foreskin back with a flick of your wrist, wrapping your mouth around his dick and swiping your tongue over the ridge of his head as he cries out.

He’s shuddering against the sheets like any moment might be the last, and you know that there’s no way he can give you an accurate warning in his current state. You lap up each spurt of precome, the hand not holding his dick in place reaching down to touch his balls. You decide not to give them their usual attention this time, instead sneaking your fingertips underneath them, and up towards the base. Maybe Van’s never been touched here, or maybe he’s just enjoying it to the extreme, but his dick twitches inside of your mouth, his toes curling.

When you feel you’ve given him a decent amount of head, surprised he’s held off like he has, you pull back, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. You wipe your mouth dry with the back of your hand before wrapping a palm around Van, jerking him off quickly. You retract your fingertips from behind Van’s balls, instead running your nails up and down his inner thigh.

With a gasp he starts to come, and you continue to jerk him off as he comes onto his stomach in heavy spatters, his whole body contracting through his orgasm. You’re careful not to release him prematurely, jerking him off until he’s cringing with sensitivity, writhing away from your touch.

You lean your torso off of the bed, snatching Van’s shirt from the floor. You wipe him off with careful strokes, soiling his shirt with every last drop. You offer him a clean corner of the fabric so that he can wipe the sweat off of his face.

“Are you good?” You ask once he’s tossed the shirt back onto the floor, and he furrows his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this fucking good in my entire life,” He insists.

You grin at the compliment, poking at his hip. “I mean, are you overheating? Do you need some water or, like, ice or something?”

“I think I’m alright. I’ll grab some water after I piss.”

While Van heads to the bathroom you stumble around in your dark kitchen, preparing him a glass of water. You hear him groan from the bathroom, the door hanging open.

“Even pissing feels incredible,” He tells you when he comes out. You pass him the ice water as you take your turn, laughing as you do.

Your body feels like a block of lead as you climb back under the covers this time, actually ready to sleep. The only thing preventing that from happening was Van sitting upright smoking a cigarette, lamplight beaming into your eyes.

“Have a fag,” He tells you. “Get ready for round two.”

“Round two?” You sputter, shaking your head. “You fucking wish!”

“I meant for you!” Van laughs. He kindly offers his cigarette out to you, and you prop yourself up on one elbow to steal a quick drag. “Gotta make sure you get off, don’t I?”

“What a gentleman,” You joke, nestling back under the sheets. “But I’m going to sleep.”

“No fair. Even for head?”

“I’m on my period,” You remind him, rolling over so the lightbulb wasn’t shining in your eyes. “I already told you you’d be up all night alone.”

Van sighs. You doze off immediately, only to be woken up an indeterminable amount of time later to Van clicking the light off, and leaving the bedroom after grabbing your guitar.

You’re up around ten the next morning, feeling amazingly refreshed after sleeping like the dead. Van, on the other hand, is sitting on the couch, puffing through a cigarette, looking considerably less refreshed.

“Morning!” You quip cheerfully just to piss him off. It works. He offers you a death glare. “Write any good songs?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Guess we’ll see what the lads think.” He trails after you into the kitchen, where there’s a pot of coffee already brewed and partially gone.

You marvel at the sort of friendship the band has. You didn’t think anybody could pay you enough to write songs on drugs and then present them to your coworkers. But then again, maybe it was worse when they were sober songs that Van had really poured his heart into.

“Having fun on your comedown?”

“I’m crawling out of my fucking skin. Not to mention the hangover.”

“Can’t sleep it off?”

“Not yet,” Van sighs. He’s got deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his cigarette is trembling where he’s holding it between his fingers so he can take a sip of black coffee from the mug he’d just refilled. “But once my head shuts up, I will.”

You understand the terror of intense anxiety and panic attacks, and that’s without any drugs. Watching Van’s hyperactivity transmute to panic is hard to watch. You’ve never seen happy-go-lucky Van less like himself. You feel bad now for teasing him.

“Do you wanna try? I can lay back down with you,” You offer out of pity. He shakes his head.

You finish up your coffee before getting the water running for a shower. Mary was making a trip to Costco today, and since you didn’t have a membership you were planning to go with her this afternoon.

“Can I get in with you?” Van calls from the living room.

“Yeah!” You yell so that he can hear you, your voice echoing against the tile as you start to strip.

When Van comes in his eyes wander up and down over your body. “Is it still your time of the month?” He asks, smiling weakly.

“Unfortunately,” You sigh, tugging your tampon out right in front of him. Clearly as of yesterday you two were at this level of familiarity. You realize he’s still smiling. “Why?”

“Gotta return the favor, remember?” He reminds you as his own clothes start to litter the bathroom floor.

You haven’t been in the mood lately, too frustrated with the bloating and the cramps and the bleeding to feel even slightly attractive, but something about Van always pushes those worries aside.

“Hm, I guess you do,” You singsong as you step behind your shower curtain into the warm spray of water. “But you better hurry, I gotta go to Costco with Mary.”

Van is incredibly efficient, bending you over so that he can fuck you while also sneaking a hand around to keep warm, wet circles over your clit. As much as you usually despise doggy style there’s something perfect about it today, the water pounding down on the small of your back while you brace yourself against the tile with your forearms, struggling not to slip as Van thrusts into you. You’re deliciously sensitive because of your period, and after only a few minutes of Van’s concentrated attention with his fingertips you’re groaning through your orgasm, your knees trembling as Van’s fingers continue to move against you.

Van pulls out, jerking himself off until you feel him come on the swell of your ass. Then his waterlogged palm flushes water over your skin, carefully cleaning himself off of you.

“That was very pornstar of you,” You tease breathlessly when you’ve stood up straight, soaking the rest of your scalp so you can finally wash your hair.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Van admits sheepishly. “Thought now would be the perfect time.”

You wonder if he means he’s always wanted to do that to you, or if he’s never done it in general. But then you remember that you’re the only one that’s ever fucked him while he was on ecstasy, and decide to be happy with that win regardless.

After sex and a shower Van is looking a little more normal. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat, a welcome change from the pallor of his complexion when you’d greeted him this morning. He’s looking a little more content, a little less like a walking panic attack, and after he changes into some clothes he hasn’t sweat through you convince him to try getting into bed.

He’s a grown man, and doesn’t need you to oversee his nap, but that doesn’t stop you from following him into your room, and getting into bed with him. It would be perfect if you could calm him down enough to sleep in the next half hour, so that you could get ready and go shopping without having to worry.

You sit up against your headboard and nudge his head into your lap, playing with his damp hair while he tries to settle in.

“Are you mad?” He asks, his voice muffled against your thigh.

“Mad about what?” You giggle softly, rolling your eyes.

“Have I ruined your Sunday?”

“No!” You scoff. “If anything, you just made it a lot better.”

Van grins against you at that. “You’re my best mate.”

“I know.” You sigh, half from fondness and half from the desire to be more. “You’re mine, too.”

“Don’t forget about me when I’m touring next month.”

“I could never,” You laugh, ruffling his hair in punishment. “I know you’ll come by when you can.”

Van relaxes against you, some of the demons in his head clearly appeased at your words. You wonder what other anxieties are swirling around there, if he ever has to worry about finances or forgetting to mail something or whether or not he left damp clothes in the washer or the stove on at home. It feels like he sails through life unhindered by such tedious worries, but now you’ve seen first hand he has them like everyone else. He worries about burdening others with his hangovers, and being replaced by his best friend while he’s working.

Slept in way too late, you lie to Mary after picking up your phone from the nightstand. I’ll go with you next week!

You’re grateful last night you left your book on the nightstand instead of putting it away on the shelf, your glasses and book perfectly within reach without you having to disturb Van. This was a way better way to spend your Sunday rather than pacing through crowded aisles in a warehouse. You hold your book with one hand, still fussing with the ends of Van’s hair with the other, and enjoy your last day of the weekend.

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #catb #catb fic #van mccann fanfiction #vanfic #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #van mccann fic

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capricities · 3 years

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Part 3 C:

(Here’s the masterlist! Happy Reading!)

Yuu knocked furiously on her grandfather’s room, completely ignoring the fact that it was such an ungodly hour to even be up, especially for someone as old as his Sobo, but what he witnessed would certainly be engraved in his head for the rest of his days. As Yuu continued his furious knocking, the lingering thought of bothering Hatsuko instead came to mind.

After all, who needed beauty sleep when Yuu probably witnessed one of the most life-changing earth-shattering moments of his life.

As he thought of retreating and running to his sister’s room, the sudden realisation that he’d have to pass his father’s office room halted that train of thought completely. He now felt even more panicked. Did his father see him? Did that person see him? Yuu felt tears well in his eyes as his hands tightly scrunched the hem of the sweater he was wearing.

He gritted his teeth as he sniffled sadly, his eyes trailed on the door. He never expected that. He heard rumours, he heard people bad-mouthing his father, but he never thought that those rumours could be true.

Did his mother know? It was a horrific question that had dawned upon the Eshima, and he really didn’t want to follow that train of thought. Was that why she always looked so miserable? Did his dad seriously know what type of damage he’s caused?

Did Yuu even want to call the man he saw in that room his father?

He sat down, curling into himself as he leaned on his grandfather’s door,. Crying as tears spilt from his eyes. He sometimes wished magic could do more than just parlour tricks.

Yuu woke up in a tufted sofa bed, curled into a pillow. He was aware that he fell asleep ––he actually collapsed due to shock–– outside his grandfather’s room...which was why his current disposition puzzled him. He slowly sat up, yawning as he looked around. Was this a loft? No, this isn’t a loft this was-

“Ah, you’re awake èr bǎo,” Sofu said as he sat down on the ottoman beside the couch, placing the tray of pancakes and hot chocolate on the table. “I suppose you know what room this is?” He asked as he faced his grandson, a melancholic smile on his face.

“It’s Sobo’s study room…” Yuu trailed as his sights set on the tray of food beside him.

“I made sure to keep it clean, it’s a great place when you want to sort out your thoughts.” He said, his voiced laced with melancholy as he sat on the ottoman beside the couch.. Yuu kept his head down, his hands on his lap.

The study was still the same as always. A large bookshelf that spanned from floor to ceiling, a beautiful chandelier that wasn’t obnoxiously oversized, a large bay window that gave a view of the beautiful bustling city from the comfort of the Eshima estate. It was humbling to know that Sobo didn’t use any overly expensive furniture in this room, nor did she waste her time decorating her private rooms with priceless items, and other useless objects.

It really showed how simple she lived, and her rather clear pursuit for knowledge.

His Sofu smiled at him, urging his grandson to eat up. “I won’t ask why you decided to knock at my door at such an ungodly hour, considering how dishevelled you were when I saw you. You can say it in due time.” Yuu sheepishly looked up, taking the food from the tray and started eating. He enjoyed the silence his Sofu was giving him, it helped him sort out his thoughts.

Yesterday... was haunting. It felt scarier than the moment they found out about Sobo’s illness, it filled him with more anxiety than the time he and Kalim rode on the magic carpet ––which was an actual national treasure–– and it filled him with all sorts of emotions ranging from rage to disappointment. He was glad he knew the things that were happening around him but, at the same time, ignorance was bliss. He knew that from Kalim, who was awfully oblivious to things at times.

His father’s absence in his life was rather prevalent. He wasn’t neglecting him per se. He was always present during things that came to him and his sister, but Yuu could remember clearly how his mother waited for his father to come home during their wedding anniversary, having prepared something for him.

He didn’t come home until a week after, with a lacklustre excuse that anyone with an eye and half a brain could see through.

Yuu awkwardly cleared his throat as he turned to face his grandfather. “Sofu...did fùqīn ever tell you why he wasn’t at Sobo’s funeral?” He asked his grandfather, who had set the book he had down on the table.

“I never asked, though, I think I know why.” He answered with chagrin, his smile faltering as his eyebrows creased ever so slightly.

Yuu froze as he set his fork back down on his plate. He met the somber gaze of his grandfather, who was looking rather abashed, mortified, though not in the same way as he did when he saw his father yesterday. “What do you mean?” He whispered.

His Sobo exhaled a sigh. “You’ve heard of arranged marriages, haven’t you?” Yuu nodded, already dreading the rest of Sobo’s words, already forseeing the only way it could end.

“Your father and mother were great friends, a bond thicker than blood, so when the topic of marriage was brought up, it seemed natural to just, place them together. Your mother could follow your father to the ends of the earth and vice versa.” He paused, shakily inhaling. “But I'm afraid that I, both as his father and the head of the clan, made the wrong move. A move that damaged whatever they already had.”

Yuu stared at his grandfather. He wasn’t aware that his parent’s marriage was an arranged one, and it seems neither his father nor mother had any say in it too. Not even the right to object to it. He was also aware of the very customs the clan had. An arranged marriage just wasn’t the way to go, never had their been an arranged marriage ever since the horrible death of Sakusa over 10 generations ago. Marriage wasn’t a thing to be arrayed with, so why?

Sobo was already well aware of the question’s going through Yuu’s head. “Your father came out to me when he was 17, he told me he was bicurios and demiromantic. This family has a history of homosexuality, and as much as we keep patriarchy, the family has grown to respect it. However, as the son and the direct descendant of the clan head, he had to at least try to provide children who were related to him by blood. And he still hadn’t found someone by the time he was 27...” He trailed, clearly ashamed of himself.

Yuu didn’t need the rest of the story for everything to be pieced together in his mind. “So...the marriage never had any love in it?” He finished, his voice slightly laced with venom and rancor.

“I’d like to say there was, but I’d be lying. Maybe your mother loved your father, she was smiling during their wedding after all. And she really tried her best to give both you and your sister a healthy family experience.” He answered with a sad smile on his face. His eyes were crinkled in a way Yuu had never seen before.

Yuu bit his lip, letting all this new information sink in. For nine years, he didn’t know about his real family situationfor nine years. It sunk into him that the tears his mother shed, and the constant absence of his father in his life, was the result of a decision way beyond their control. And the man who did have control, disregarded the possible doom that could come with this risky decision.

It was...a hard slap to the face. A wake up call of sorts.

A deafening silence befell the two. His grandfather, who’s sights were set on the picture that hung on the wall adjacent the large shelf. Sobo looked on the verge of tears as his eyes fell on the framed family photo. It looked so unbelievably fabricated. “I’ve never regretted something more in my life.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“So now your brother knows, Hatsuko.” Ryoichi stated as he stared at the papers on his desk. A few more contracts, a leave request, and a few charts and graphs with the company’s progress.

“Yeah, it was bound to happen with how much you’ve been sneaking off. It’ll be harder for me to out him on a leash now,” Hatsuko said as she tapped her foot on the floor.

“I really do think that you shouldn’t do this. You still get huge shares once he takes over, you’ll even be controlling a good portion of the company. You and your brother can live in peace, without the need for your interferance.” He stated as he glared at his daughter. He was severely disappointed with the actions she was willing to take. It was all so..desperate. The again, he couldn’t judge her he had made many mistakes himself.

“May I remind you that I have blackmail on you?” She stated.

“May I remind you that I’m still your father? At least treat me with an ounce of respect.” He retorted, signing his name on the renewal contract with the Shrouds.

Hatsuko rolled her eyes. “I don’t respect men who can’t keep their word.”

“Then perhaps you should humble yourself, because you’re being a hypocrite.” He responded to her. Venom laced in his words. He didn’t know how deep her utter desperation ran for, but it wasn’t healthy.

Hatsuko chuckled, bemused. “Learn how to hide your hickeys better then, Fùqīn.” She smiled at him, though it was evident how it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Learn how to hide your motives better, Achi.”

I hope you all had time to spend the holidays with the people you love, whether they were present physically, or bonded with them over the phone. I posted this a day before the new years so I can say to myself that I managed to finish it before this hellhole of a year ended. Just because we’re finally leaving 2020 doesn’t mean it will automatically revert and go back to normal. For now, let’s just hope 2021′s a better year! Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst yuu #twst oc #twst dynasty au #ツイステッドワンダーランド #dynasty au #twisted wonderland au

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loganseternity · 4 years

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grudges

fun fact: jules and i discussed ages ago that josh and jules would dislike each other for superficial pointless reasons and that logan would have to intervene so here is the long (i’m talking like a year in the making???) awaited drabble on it.

“My boyfriend is working on some new music I think you’d like. You should come by sometime.”

Months prior when Logan initially suggested that Julian should come over sometime she never knew it would take this much effort to follow through with the plan. A lack of response from Julian and dodged reasons to leave the house from Joshua should have made it obvious they weren't going to allow it but Logan was determined. While she was by no means a matchmaker Logan knew that the pair would make fast friends if they could ever put their egos aside and sit in the same room. Making it happen was difficult due to a clear dislike for one another between the boys. It was pushing the borders of becoming childish. She wasn’t stupid; not only did she see it but she felt the energy shift if she brought up Joshua to Julian and vise versa but if she ever tried to rope any real reasoning behind the matter it was dropped instantly. Exhaustion for this situation and her smarts landed both men exactly where she wanted them.

Logan had simply mentioned they were going to have company at bed the previous night. “Make sure you are free tomorrow afternoon.” She said just before turning out the light. Joshua was already almost sound asleep and barely moving in response to what Logan had said but still she knew he had heard her. Twice in the last week she had subtly mentioned Julian should come and hang out with her. Logan made both comments short and simple to avoid being suspicious in bringing the subject up more than once but she also knew she had to repeat herself to keep the idea on Julian’s mind. Only minutes later on the same night Logan pulled her phone off the nightstand and texted Julian asking if he wanted to have lunch the next afternoon. As simple as it was that was her trap.

They both blindly fell into it so easily that surely they both had to feel pretty stupid. Sitting on their couch Joshua responded to the band’s group chat when a knock on the door barely caught his attention. Of course he had remembered Logan’s warning for company and was expecting the arrival. He hadn’t expected who would be walking through the door. “Hey! Come in.” Logan said politely as she motioned for Julian to enter. Even though she knew the possible outcome of this forced intervention could end badly she had to try to hide her excitement for the meeting and was doing only an okay job at doing so.

Pretending to be oblivious to the shift of energy in the room Logan gestured for Julian to sit in the adjacent chair in their small apartment living room while she grabbed the cheese plate she had made earlier in the day from the kitchen. An expected silence remained as she left the room continuing until she entered again to break it. Placing the plate on the coffee table Logan sat on the couch beside Joshua but technically between the two. She knew it wouldn’t become anything physical but she still felt it would be best to be a mediator. “Josh, this is Julian. Julian, this is Joshua.” Paying more attention to the detailed display of snacks she had arranged Logan reached down and grabbed a cracker before lifting her knees into her chest so she sat on the couch like this was a casual hang out. A crunch from the sound of the cracker entering her mouth and the hum of their air conditioning unit were the only sounds that followed.

“I know you already know who one another is but I figured it was finally time for you two to meet.” Logan glanced at each boy only to see that they were both avoiding eye contact with one another. The level of childish behavior in this room was astounding. “Well?” Logan questioned. There was a long enough pause to prove neither of the two were going to cave in. “Come on, say something.” She shot a look at Joshua that was meant to be encouraging but she knew there was irritation there too. Logan hadn’t planned this for it to flop completely. She was invisioning how great their friendship would be if they could just get past whatever this unnecessary tension was. She planned on breaking it herself if they didn’t comply and as they continued to hold their ground Logan finally snapped.

“Listen,” She began while trying to keep her composure so she didn’t get irritated. “What is with this male ego grudge match you guys are holding?” Julian’s eyes met hers like what she had just said was entertaining and for the moment she was glad she at least had his attention. “You guys keep avoiding each other when you’ve never even met and it is getting to be ridiculous! You share common interests, you both are involved in music and you both have to end this stupid grudge against one another.” Logan gave herself a moment before it turned into a rant. She had proved her point. Relaxing her back into the couch once again her eyes looked between both men waiting for one of them to finally speak.

“Hey, I’m Josh.” Joshua spoke with a tinge of sarcasm. He hoped that if he just introduced himself to Julian than this would be over. He hoped wrong. Logan, however, still took this as a stride. Her eyes were burning into Julian’s pleading for a response. Her sad puppy dog eyes must have finally cracked his stoic exterior as he finally spoke.

“I’m Julian.” He said almost matter of fact and in a less introductory fashion. He wouldn’t dare to say it was nice to meet Joshua but Logan hadn’t expected him to. “Thank god.” Logan said with a sigh of exhaustion before getting to her feet. “Now that we got that out of the way I’m grabbing some alcohol.” Walking into the kitchen she headed for the fridge, grabbing a couple beers before mumbling to herself. “Then you’ll warm up.” It was true. Now that they had broken the ice and chipped away at the first layer of this dislike she knew it was only a matter of time before they would thank her for making their friendship happen.

#logs writing log #josh x jules

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ashfountainfanfics · 5 years

Text

It’s July 18th.

It’s been two weeks since the Mind Flayer was defeated and the gate was sealed. Everyone is trying to get back to their old lives the best they can. It’s weird how every time everyone seems to go back to normal even though they all know things are different. They all have something familiar to lean on everyone except...

“HARRINGTON!”

Steve heads upstairs to heed the call, cursing under his breath. He nearly trips over the middle step but catches himself. He’s gotten so graceless in the last year or so. Sometimes he wonders if every time Hawkins is under attack he loses cool factor. He’s never really returned to his old self not since the beginning. With every new, terrifying event Steve takes on a new role.

Steve opens the door to his family’s guest bedroom.

“Radio!” Steve shouts back upon entry, “What is so hard about using it?!”

“Bite me,” a gruff voice responds.

It’s late evening in Hawkins and given the seclusion of the Harrington residence and the drawn curtains of the guest room; it feels as if the voice belongs to the dark itself. The smell of the room is unsettling too; two week’s worth of unwashed everything sealed into four walls. Steve holds his nose.

“Y’know there’s a shower right through that door,” he says as he tries to breathe as little as possible, “and the light switch-”

“Turn on that light and you’re dead.”

Steve ambles toward the low light lamp he knows is on the bedside nightstand. It clicks on and gives the room a dull, warm light. That lights hits a bedridden Billy softer than the switch would have. Still he winces and groans at the change and Steve sighs.

“I’m not much help if I can’t see.”

“Bucket’s full,” Billy replies through grit teeth.

“Of course.”

Steve comes around to the other side of the bed and looks at the large paint bucket filled with vomit. It’d be nice if he had help to care for his unwanted house guest but he wouldn’t dare put anyone else through this. As far as Steve’s skills as a nurse go; he somewhere between shitty boyfriend and a good babysitter.

“Chair,” Billy says right as Steve is about to pick up the puke bucket.

Billy’s wheelchair is on it’s side and out of reach for him. Which means he threw it again. Steve doesn’t mention it. Instead he rights it and brings it bedside for Billy.

“Do you, uh-” Steve tries to phrase it differently as he locks the chair in place.

“If I want your fucking help, I’ll ask.”

Steve returns to the bucket and sets about dumping it into the toilet in the adjacent bathroom. He has to do it in small bits and he prays silently that he doesn’t spill any. The last time that happened he had to toss his jeans out.

As he flushes, Steve can hear Billy grunting and struggling to get into the wheelchair. It’s hard to manage even with help given that he’s covered in stitches and has a broken foot. He can’t do crutches because the stitches on his sides might split from the pressure. They’re huge, oddly shaped patch jobs that the doctor insists require bed rest. Oh, and the nurse essentially guarantees scarring. Steve doubts that Billy will be playing any shirts vs skin games anytime soon.

“Fuck!”

There’s a loud thud that follows right after. Steve drops the bucket and hurries back to the bed to find Billy crumpled on the ground. The chair is flipped and Billy is on his stomach holding a hand to his bandaged side.

Steve moves the wheelchair aside quickly and starts going about picking Billy up. Billy pushes him away and screams not to touch him. Steve keeps trying and manages to flip him onto his back. This makes Billy more furious and he starts throwing punches to the best of his ability. This isn’t the first time that Billy is fighting help. He’s been doing it since he was discharged from the hospital.

“Stop. Hitting. Me!” Steve grabs his dirty patient by the wrists.

Billy screams into Steve’s face so hard that the veins in his neck stand out. Steve holds steady though and the scream seems to be the last of the fight left. He takes stock of him as he keeps him pinned; the red eyes and the tear stained cheeks. Billy is hissing from the pain and, one could argue, whimpering, if there was ever a guttural version of whimpering.

“Okay,” Steve collects his thoughts, “I can’t keep doing this. I have dealt with some shit, man but this? Trying to take care of you is the hardest bull shit I’ve ever been through-”

Billy manages a weak growl and the slightest push back against Steve’s hands.

“No, no no, I’m not done! You have two choices; either you start letting me help you or I dump your ass on your parent’s front porch.”

The violence in Billy’s gaze disappears in a single blink. It’s replaced by something else, something that feels familiar to Steve. He can’t dwell on it though. He needs to seize the opportunity while he can.

“I’m not asking for any thank you’s or even a please, okay?” Steve softens, “Let me help you. That’s it. Just let me help you.”

Billy nods but can’t bring himself to make any eye contact. Steve sighs in relief before putting one arm under Billy’s good knee and the other under his arm. He remembers to lift with his legs but the transition isn’t painless for Billy. The wounded of the pair seems to be trying to meet the other halfway though as his groans and hisses are absent of anger.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” Steve says, knowing full well that’s why Billy wanted the chair in the first place, “just mind the bucket and when you’re ready-”

Steve grabs the radio he already knows is stashed under one of the pillows. He puts it in Billy’s lap.

“Radio me and I’ll take a look at your stitches.”

---

Billy absolutely pulled a stitch during his last tantrum. Thankfully, it doesn’t warrant a trip back to the hospital but it does require a little cleaning and a fresh bandage. It’s unbearably quiet as Steve mentally walks through the steps Max left him. Babysitting even in upside down level circumstances takes less effort than playing nurse.

The instructions for all this isn’t too difficult but Steve has to sift through all of Max’s details and what if scenario information. That kid is like an encyclopedia for wounds. She’d make a great nurse. Someday. And not for her formerly possessed brother who tried to kill her and her friends. Even the most seasoned nurse might have a little trouble with that.

“What are you doing?” Billy asks over an unintentional sneer from the disinfectant.

“Huh?”

This seems to wake Steve up from his intense thought process.

“Your mouth,” Billy gestures gently, “you’re moving it like you’re saying something but you’re not saying shit.”

“Uh...I’m thinking, I guess.”

“You need to do that to think?”

Steve takes a bit of his frustration out on the roll of tape for the bandages and forcefully pulls a strip.

“Guess so,” he replies curtly.

No one’s ever pointed out that quirk before but then maybe no one ever noticed? Or maybe it’s a new development? Some neurotic shift resulting from the trauma of being tortured by Russians or purposefully crashing a car or seeing a building sized rotting flesh monster? The world is full of possibilities.

Steve places the strip of tape on the headboard to keep it ready and within reach. He moves in to adjust Billy but thinks better of it.

“Can you hold yourself up a little more?” he asks.

Billy obliges. Awkwardly, Steve sits on the free space of the bed and moves in close. Billy lifts his arms enough to allow Steve to start winding the gauze around his torso and over a shoulder. In the past couple weeks this was just as difficult as anything else was but now that the boys have an agreement the physicality of it goes smoother.

“Why is this taking so long?” Billy grunts.

“Uh, maybe because you’re not screaming and trying to punch me?”

Steve has time to do this right, no rogue limbs and noise pollution to make it hurried. However, that lack of sound and movement does make things quiet and kind of weird. It seems as though if they’re not fighting then they’ve got nothing to talk about.

Steve gets to the final round and places the big strip of duct tape across the uninjured part of Billy’s chest. Then he carefully places his hands on his work and checks for loose gauze.

Billy’s body is so warm under the bandage and despite the damage on his torso he still looks like he could bench press Steve. Maybe Billy would be playing shirtless basketball again after all.

“If you don’t explain what this is I’m going to have to punch you,” Billy says flatly.

Steve pulls his hands back quickly and holds them up in pseudo surrender.

“I’ve never been able to check if I did it right before. Feels right,” Steve stumbles over his words, “Firm. And-and good. How do you feel?”

Billy narrows his eyes and the air shifts dangerously.

“You queer?” he asks in disgust.

Steve feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. Queer? Nobody’s ever asked if Steve’s a queer. Steve’s the one who asks that. An instinctive rage tears at the question but then Steve remembers...

‘But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.’

Steve used to ask shit like that. Not anymore.

“What if I am?” Steve asks heatedly.

“The fuck did you just say?”

The anger starts to flicker back into Billy’s eyes.

“What if I am?” Steve repeats, “It wouldn’t change anything. Being queer, or uh, different doesn’t make someone not a person and in case you forgot right now I’m the person stuck taking care of your ass.”

Of all the times that both Steve and Billy have ever accused someone of being gay neither of them have ever heard that kind of response. It’s twice as shocking for Steve for no other reason than it’s his response. The room feels a little smaller now and Steve tries to keep in mind the kind of insecure asshole Billy is, the kind of asshole Steve used to be. The longer Steve sits there on the bed with his statement in the air the smaller the room gets.

“But no,” Steve stands up, “I’m not queer.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Calling people pretty boy, honestly? That sounds kinda queer, so-”

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that!” Billy shouts, his fists pounding into the mattress.

He backs off his anger right away though his body unable to handle it.

“Okay,” Steve relents.

“I’m not a fag.”

“I got it.”

“I’m no-”

Billy’s face goes pale and his mouth begins to quiver. Steve knows what this face preludes and makes a run for the bucket left in the bathroom. He manages to get a hold of it as Billy starts dry heaving. He runs back into the room but trips over his feet. He slides desperately trying to get the bucket back in time. He misses by an inch and Billy vomits hard all over himself and the bed.

---

“No,” Billy gurgles quietly as Steve does his God given best to place him into his parents’ large, squared bath tub.

The tub squeaks as Billy’s body settles into a decent position. Steve breathes out heavily and tells himself not to think about the effort that’s going to come from getting this dead weight out of the tub. Instead he has to focus on the quickest and least weird way to bathe another person’s entire body. Like all of it. Because the thing Steve was dreading the most is here; Billy absolutely needs a bath.

Billy also seems as though he was dreading this but luckily Steve had the foresight to convince him into taking his pain medicine first. Then it was just a matter of letting it kick in as Steve threw out the sheets and set the mattress on the curb for garbage to collect.

His parents can afford a new mattress and Steve honestly feels it’ll be less effort to be bitched out than trying to clean up.

“Give me… my clothes,” Billy slurs.

“Listen, you’d be in your underwear right now if I had a choice but as it turns out you don’t wear underwear.”

It’s practically comical, the unfortunate luck Steve has. He manages to avoid the fight but gets stuck with nudity. He’s technically seen Billy naked before, back in high school in the gym showers, but other than a douchey tap on the shoulder from Billy there was no contact. It was a circus trying to load Billy into the tub naked and desperately trying to avoid everything around and attached to his pelvis.

Steve turns the water on.

“Cold,” Billy groans as he tries to pull a face at the faucet.

“It’ll get warm, relax.”

The water adjusts and Billy seems to forget the circumstances of this bath as he relaxes. He’s practically serene against the cream colored tile despite the seran wrapped cast propped on the edge of the tub. His eyes are heavy like he might just fall asleep after all. Steve realizes that in time he’s known Billy he’s never once seen him calm like this or any other variation of calm. In many ways, Billy reminds Steve of some big wild animal. He always looks… predatory.

Steve takes a large cup and pours water slowly across the front of Billy’s chest, allowing it to pool down to places where Steve’s not looking to make direct contact given his previous acrobatics around them. The water clears the faded trail the puke had left behind.

Billy hums a little as Steve tries not be repulsed by pressing a bar of soap to his skin.

“Don’t do that,” Steve practically begs.

“I haven’t had a bath,” Billy muses, “in a tub. A bathtub bath. Since I was a kid. My mom...”

Steve makes a face and tries to move a little faster. He was hoping that the painkillers would tire him out too much for any talk. Although given that Steve has also been high and babbled inconveniently before he shouldn’t judge.

“My mom was the only one...who gave me baths...and then she was... gone.”

Steve stops mid pour on the second cup of water.

Gone, he has the good sense to wonder and not ask, like left? Or gone like dead? Or both? Wait how would he know if it was both if she left? Unless someone called. That would really suck.

Steve sticks with his better judgement and lets Billy’s comment go without further acknowledgement. He finishes up the second rinse.

“Can you wash my hair?” Billy opens his heavy eyes just long enough to make eye contact, “Please?”

“Sure...”

Steve finds himself coming around to the other side of the tub to sit down. The shampoo he uses has an orange color and smells sweet like honey. It may be his mom’s or his dad’s or both. Steve wouldn’t know. He hadn’t been in close enough proximity of either to know something like that. He can’t even recall what products, if any, they ever smelled like. They always keep at least a foot between them and him even when they’re angry.

Steve digs his fingers into Billy’s hair and does gentle circular motions. He starts at the crown and works down to the base of the neck. Billy’s hair has isn’t too bad and the movement breaks up the any matting. Eventually, Billy’s hair is soft again.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks despite wishing he hadn’t. The silence was probably better.

“Where’d you learn to do...that?”

Steve looks around as if somehow someone might be spying on him. He takes his hair secrets very seriously.

“I don’t think you’ll remember this but if you do you better not tell anyone. You better swear.”

“I swear,” Billy vows with a goofy smile.

“I’ve got a cousin who’s a hairdresser in the city and she says this is the best way to wash hair. Helps it to grow and stuff. It’s the way I wash mine so yeah. I guess it’s a technique.”

Steve is working his way back to the top again, his fingers massaging Billy’s scalp under honey scented bubbles and warm water.

“It’s like getting a blow job but for your hair,” Billy laughs sleepily.

“And we’re done now.”

Steve pulls his hands out of Billy’s locks. His cheeks go flush and without thinking he wipes the suds off on his shirt. He retreats back to the other side of the tub to get the cup and get this over with.

“No..no no,” Billy continues to giggle to himself, “I like it. Head for your head haha.”

“Very funny,” Steve deflects as he tilts back Billy’s head to rinse his hair out.

“No... no, you’re not listening.”

Billy places a lazy grip onto the collar of Steve’s shirt while Steve still has a hand on the back of Billy’s neck. The atmosphere shifts into unfamiliar territory. Steve feels like maybe all this isn’t just awkward, it’s inappropriate.

“I like it,” Billy mutters before pulling Steve closer and very gently kissing him on the mouth.

Steve panics, drops the cup and tries to pull back but Billy holds his grip and kisses him again, this time using tongue. Steve’s ears feel hot with embarrassment because he can taste Billy’s tongue. It’s a cool mint from brushing his teeth earlier. It tingles the roof of Steve’s mouth.

Billy lets go of Steve’s shirt to let his hand migrate to Steve’s neck. He tangles his fingers into Steve’s dark strands.

It’s a primal kiss and the energy shocks Steve into staying completely still. He’s the proverbial deer in the head lights.

Billy breaks the kiss by seizing his fingers into Steve’s hair and pulling him back.

“Whatsa matter, gorgeous?” Billy smirks, “Can’t keep up?”

He’s an animal, Steve panics, all he knows is fucking and punching and now that he’s not punching- oh God.

“You never kiss like this?” Billy taunts him, “I can give you romance if you want. Treat you soft-“

His pouty lips start to trail kisses on Steve’s jawline.

“You can be my pillow princess if you want, pretty boy. I can be gentle.”

Something snaps in Steve. Something competitive and furious. Angrily he brings his lips to Billy’s and starts to kiss him wanting to prove that he’s no princess. He’s a man.

Billy moans into it before biting Steve’s lip baiting him to give him more. Steve is overcome with the need to devour him. He wants to taste everything Billy has to offer. He grabs Billy’s wrists and goes to pin them at his sides.

Billy winces and lets out a pained groan which stops them both. Steve had grabbed a little too roughly and with that pulled stitch on one side Billy can’t be handled like that.

Billy is staring at Steve. He’s wide eyed and shocked and Steve stares back.

Things feel awkward again but this time Steve is a reason for it. It now seems inconceivable that Steve had kissed him back let alone with that vigor. He wipes the water and shared saliva from his lip with the back of his hand. He can still Billy’s eyes on him as he spits into the sink.

That was gross...I’m gross.. Steve thinks as he looks at his reflection in the mirror.

“We should, uh,” he desperately tries to change the subject, “we should get you to bed.”

Billy, still high as a kite, snorts and gestures to nothing in particular.

“What bed?”

—-

“Oh my God.”

Steve is expecting something a little more succinct from Robin but maybe taking the Lord’s name in vain is the best way to sum it up.

“I know.”

“Oh my God!”

“I know, Robin!” Steve responds in equal parts shame and exasperation.

“No,” Robin glares at Steve, “I mean ‘oh my God’ as in; Oh my God I’ve been gay like my whole life and you get to have a same sex kiss before me?! Jesus Christ you get everything!”

Steve, dumbfounded, sits quietly as he lets Robin process things. It felt dangerous to breathe a word of last night’s events to anyone but Robin isn’t just anyone. She gets the gravity of keeping this kind of secret.

It’s hot again today as they sit out by the pool. Steve’s radio is within ear shot, sitting on a lawn chair in the shade, should Billy call but given that he’s been out cold since last night Steve doubts it.

It was Robin’s idea to have daily pool time. They were both out of job and the second she saw that Steve’s place had a pool she knew she needed at least an hour a day in the water. Steve’s thankful for it now. It feels therapeutic to see Robin show up everyday in her black one piece and her short hair clipped back at the sides. She always reeks of sunscreen though.

Steve kicks his feet a little in the water.

“So… what do I do?”

“How should I know?! You’re more advanced than me.”

“No. No, no, I am not advanced. I’m not even in this class!”

“Billy kissed you,” she laughs, “you’re not even gay and you get action. Is it something that only I don’t get? I mean I like women, so of course I don’t get it but I thought Billy was straight.”

“He is!” Steve backtracks, “I think.”

“You think?”

Billy didn’t actually date in high school. Every girl, with the exception of the usual groups, wanted Billy. Bad. The guy could sneeze and panties would drop. They were obsessed.

But he never dated them. Any of them. He didn’t even fool around. He acted like they weren’t good enough and that made him even more appealing to them. He was hot and completely unattainable and he didn’t seem at all interested in that advantage.

“Well being gay would explain that,” Robin remarks after Steve shares his thoughts, “cover it up by telling yourself you’re better than them. I can relate, yknow, minus the popularity stuff.”

Unbeknownst to either Steve or Robin, Billy had actually spoken at times about his hookups with women. These were women though not high school girls. Some of those women being the mothers of the very guys who supported his social status by the way. He gave enough details to keep from being questioned but never enough to out the cohorts of his sexual escapades. Older women prefer that kind of discretion and Billy didn’t mind.

But, since Robin and Steve aren’t in the know, there’s only one logical conclusion.

“He likes boys,” Robin shrugs before slipping the rest of her body over the edge and into the pool.

She starts making a lap leaving Steve to stew in this deduction. How is this whole Nurse Steve thing going to work now? How does he avoid any interaction when he has to take care of him? It’s not like Billy can go anywhere else, El made that clear over the radio this morning. Under no circumstances is Billy to be handed over to his father. El’s tone ensured there’d be no room for argument and Steve isn’t exactly itching to argue with her either. She’s a scary kid.

Robin and Nancy have nowhere to hide him. Johnathan has enough to take care of with his mom grieving for the chief of police. Not that the Buyers have much room either. There’s no one else with time and room to get Billy back on his feet. It’s not like Steve can claim that his parents are coming home any time soon either: they’re both camped out in the city in order to wait out their ties with the former mayor. The soonest they’d be back is Thanksgiving if they come back at all.

“Hey dingus!”

Robin had made half a lap and is now pulling herself out of the water. She shakes her hair, almost like a dog, and Steve feels an overwhelming affection for her. That’s his best friend there, drying off like a Labrador.

“Shall I point out the obvious?” She calls out as her bare feet leave a trail of wet footprints behind her.

“The obvious?” Steve asks more to himself than to Robin.

Robin stands behind Steve and plants a foot firmly onto his back.

“You never said that you didn’t kiss him back.”

Steve can’t respond to that though as Robin gives a kick sending Steve into the water.

#harringrove #sthhch1 #steve/billy #fanfiction #stranger things have happened ff #Chapter One: Nurse Harrington

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