#I meant to finish this last Saturday oops

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

From Chp.24

@sapphosscribe

[sylvie-writes]

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before. 

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Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine. 

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny. 

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature. 

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather. 

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache. 

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals. 

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.” 

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness. 

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal. 

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon. 

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant. 

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

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 At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last. 

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was. 

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke. 

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness. 

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber. 

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Lunch break at last. 

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest. 

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course. 

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible. 

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty. 

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them. 

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance. 

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven. 

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“Babe, dinner is ready!” 

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten. 

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister. 

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain. 

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple. 

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for. 

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially. 

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more. 

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.” 

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.” 

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt. 

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“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed. 

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you. 

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture. 

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips. 

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” 

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair. 

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made. 

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair. 

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor. 

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand. 

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison. 

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help. 

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages. 

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look. 

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you. 

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own. 

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis. 

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk. 

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague. 

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat. 

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

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The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes. 

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on. 

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose. 

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors. 

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Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer. 

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

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For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak. 

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions. 

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.” 

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure. 

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room. 

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve. 

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!” 

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.” 

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.” 

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you. 

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued. 

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face. 

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand. 

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”  

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.” 

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him. 

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.” 

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!” 

He really was too good for this world. 

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a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

[shuadotcom]

Oops | JJK (M)

+ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader + Genre: College AU, smut, some fluff, strangers to lovers + Word count: 6k + Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) + Warnings: Shower sex, fingering, cursing, unprotected sex + Summary: You don’t know who the wonderful voice singing in the shower is, but you need to know + A/N: So I love me a classic college AU. It’s my first fic I’ve written to completion in like 5 years so I am amazed I did it.

“There he goes again,” you sighed wistfully, closing your books and craning your neck behind you towards your dorm room door which was left ajar. 

Your roommate Seulgi and her girlfriend Joohyun sat across from you, very clearly judging you. 

“Why don’t you just go wait for him to get out of the shower and see who it is?” Joohyun asked, also trying to sneak a peek in the hallway.

“I can’t do that! Number one, that’s creepy and number two, what if he’s ugly?”

“Well number one, dropping everything you’re doing in your room at the same time every night just to listen to him sing is also creepy and number two, just tell him to shut up if you find out he’s ugly,” she shrugged.

You let out a sigh as the guy singing finished the Usher song he had chosen for the night and turned the shower off. “Ladies, do you understand what I’m going through? I have to just sit here and listen to my soulmate serenade me through these thin, dingy walls and I can’t even speak to him! How do you bombard someone as they’re coming out of the shower and just tell them how you’ve been listening to them sing the shit out of old school r&b songs in the shower for the last two months and that you’re basically in love with them?”

“I mean...it sounds like he’s about to walk into the hallway, so let’s just-”

“No.” You cut Seulgi off, sprinting towards the door and closing it before she could stand up from her bed.

“Look at the time! It’s almost one in the morning and we still have like half a chapter of reading left so we may as well finish!” You scrambled back to your own bed and opened your textbook back up, pretending to read.

Your friends watched you and laughed as you felt your cheeks burn. Thankfully they dropped it for the rest of the night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

When the school year had started, you and Seulgi were excited to find that you were finally able to room together. You had known each other since the year prior but were in different buildings. Unfortunately, your room was right next door to the co-ed shower on your floor which meant you constantly had to listen to people showering at all times of the day.

You had both initially complained to the administrative office to change your room, but your whole building was at capacity and you weren’t about to change buildings. While your room was not in an ideal location, your building was right between the one that housed the cafeteria and one that held most of the morning classes you both had. You’d deal with the guys on your floor yelling at each other over the shower spray and the couples that decided to fuck very loudly in the stalls in exchange for the best tables in the cafeteria and making it to class on time.

It was even more worth it when the person you had both dubbed Midnight Shower Boy (yes that was the best name you could come up with) practiced his karaoke skills every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday around midnight in the shower.

You heard him for the first time about three weeks into the school year. You were waiting for Seulgi to come back to the room after she had rushed out to see Joohyun and forgot her key, so like the good roommate you were, you were waiting for her. Your door was open enough that you could see shadows walking around the hall as you scrolled through Twitter.

When you heard the first verse of one of your favorite B2K songs, you had thought that your music had suddenly started playing from your phone. After checking, you realized that it wasn’t you, but someone outside of your door. 

You walked as quietly as you could to your door to see if it was some drunk guy in the hallway until you realized it was coming from the showers next door. You ended up very shamelessly listening as the mystery guy finished one song and rolled into another.

Living next to the room where people are notorious for singing when no one is looking, you heard your fair share of people singing their hearts out and most of them were bad. This was the first time hearing someone that sounded like perfection personified. His voice made you shiver while also making your skin hot. Your heart beat a little faster and the hair on your arms stood up. You knew your eyes had gone wide and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel your panties start to stick to your body. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, but how about love at first listen?

As soon as the shower stopped and you heard the shower curtain open, you dove back onto your bed. The door wasn’t open all the way, but there was enough space that if he walked by, he would have seen a crazed woman standing in the doorway.

You listened intently as his footsteps echoed against the tiles. You heard him turn on the sink and brush his teeth before he padded his way out of the showers, past your door, and down the hall. Seulgi returned soon after and you immediately recounted your events. From then on, you made sure to keep your door open at midnight just enough to hear what was on the playlist that night and quickly learned his routine.

It was a random Monday when your shift at the campus bookstore ended late. The girl that was supposed to relieve you ended up calling out so you had to deal with whiny freshman looking for a book discount for twelve hours on one of your only days with no classes. By the time you dragged yourself to your dorm room, it was after eleven, and all you wanted was a shower and to go to bed.

You could see two heads of hair in Seulgi’s bed, so you grabbed your shower bag as quietly as you could before tiptoeing out to the showers. Monday nights were eerily quiet on your floor as almost everyone had an early class the next morning. With the showers to yourself, you opened Spotify on your phone and let it play on the nearby sink before getting into the spray. You got lost in your music as you washed and hummed along. 

It was when one of your favorite Ariana Grande songs were playing that you realized you must’ve not been paying attention to much else because you heard a voice in the showers that wasn’t yours singing along to “Imagine.” You nearly nicked your armpit shaving upon hearing the familiar voice that was now in the same room as you.

Midnight Shower Boy. You rinsed the soap from your body and leaned against the stall wall to listen to him sing the second verse with Ariana. Not only did he like the same oldies as you, but the same current music as well? You literally felt like you had found your music soulmate at that moment. The familiar heart racing, skin tingling feeling you got when he sang was back, but this time he was so, so close to you and you had to know who he was.

When the song finished you could hear the sound of a shower curtain opening and his flip-flopped feet walking to the sinks. He began to hum the next Ariana song that came on as the sink turned on and what you could only assume was him brushing his teeth. You had to find out who this was. This was fate, right? The night you just so happened to be showering later than usual, on a day that isn’t in his usual shower routine. It had to be.

You heard him spitting into the sink and then the water turned off. It was now or never. 

Throwing open your own shower curtain you scrambled out and saw the no longer mysterious Midnight Shower Boy looking absolutely shocked at your sudden appearance. 

You were staring, you knew you were, but how could you not. This very tall, very sculpted boy with smooth looking skin and long dark hair was gaping at you. He only had a towel around his waist and you could see he still had water droplets running down his chest. His round, dark, almost sparkling eyes were wide and fixed on you. His pink lips, which looked so very soft, were in an ‘oh’ shape as he stood motionless. He was absolutely stunning and matched his dreamlike singing voice perfectly.

“I just really needed to tell you that you have a beautiful voice. My room is right next to the showers and I can hear you sing every time you shower late at night for the past two months and I am so in love with your voice you have no idea. I will literally stay up just to hear you sing and I-” You stopped mid-sentence when you went to lay your hand on your chest only to not be met with the fabric of your shirt, but your bare skin. It was at that moment that you realized you were standing in front of this very attractive boy with an equally attractive voice, completely and utterly naked. 

You heard yourself scream before you could stop yourself, your own voice echoing off of the tile in the showers, before you stumbled back into the stall behind you clutching the curtain. You thought you could hear a chuckle as Midnight Shower Boy left the room, leaving you regretting even bathing that night.

Of course, Seulgi, being the oh-so supportive friend she is, had laughed her ass off when you told her what happened the next morning. She and Joohyun had woken up to see you sitting upright in bed, clutching your phone for dear life as you let something random on Netflix play. As soon as she had asked you what happened, you exploded and began nearly screaming as you recounted the incident.

She and Joohyun listened intently before looking at one another and bursting into laughter. You stared in horror as your closest college friends found humor in your demise.

“So,” Seulgi said in between breaths, “Just to make sure we got this straight. You showered at the same time as Midnight Shower Boy, then proceeded to gush to his face about how much you love him while you’re butt-ass naked? Tits flying free and all?”

“I...yes.” This only causes them to laugh harder and you seriously contemplated prying your 4th-floor window open and flinging yourself out of it. It wouldn’t kill you, but maybe if you were lucky you’d get a concussion and forgot your entire existence.

“Alright, alright. We’re sorry,” Joohyun said, starting to come down from her laughing fit. “Did you at least get his name?”

“No! And truly, I don’t know if that’s for better or for worse at this point.” 

“Well then you have two options,” Joohyun held up her fingers as she counted. “Option one, you try to meet him again, maybe this time fully clothed, or option two, avoid showering at night until you graduate. You know his showering scheduling, last night being an exception, so just stay away from the showers at those times.”

While the thought of never seeing the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on tore you up inside, you decided you could live with that. You only had a little more than a year and a half of college left, and besides, the campus was big enough that you could likely never see his face again, while also still listening to him serenade you singing to himself in the shower. You decided to go with option two.

The following night, you made sure you were in your room early to avoid any accidental run-ins and your door was cracked open as usual as you did your homework. It wasn’t until you looked at your phone and saw that it was 1:13 AM that you realized you never heard singing. He didn’t show up. 

You reasoned with yourself, noting that Monday night had been a change of pace so his schedule probably shifted a little. When Thursday night came and went with no shower karaoke, you told yourself the same thing. On Friday night, you were losing hope, and on Saturday, you were just in a bad mood.

“I fucked it all up. He hates me and I’m never going to hear him sing again.” You had been complaining all day and as you got ready for work. It had been 7 days that your Mystery Shower Boy had skipped his usual shower routine and you were feeling it. You had been moping around all weekend and well into the week. All you did was go to class, go to your shifts at the bookstore, grab food from the cafeteria, and seclude yourself in your room. You don’t really realize how attached to a complete stranger you can get until you miss out on their presence.

“He doesn’t even shower like he normally does! I made the boy stop practicing personal hygiene!” You whine louder as you looked pitifully at Seulgi over your shoulder. She was on her bed doing homework as you got dressed and was silently listening to you wallow in self-pity. 

“Like, I think I really scarred him for life! I inflicted trauma on a person that I don’t even know!” This time, Seulgi’s eyes met yours briefly before looking back at her laptop. “You know, this is the part when you chime in and comfort me and tell me I’m just being paranoid.” You say to her as you laced up your sneakers.

Seulgi let out a sigh and lowered her screen slightly. “Babe, listen. I love you. You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, witty, dependable, trustworthy, and the best roommate I have had since I started college. We’re basically platonic soulmates and I hope to grow old with you in my life. In an alternate universe where I’m not dating Joohyun and I’m into you romantically, I’d probably be plotting how I was going to propose to you. All of that being said, you have to understand that while yes, you are being dramatic as usual, this situation is definitely your fault.” She closed her laptop to give you her full attention.

“I mean, put yourself in his position. How would you feel if you were showering in the middle of the night, literally going about your totally normal day, and all of a sudden, a naked person you’ve never met, pops out of the shower, telling you they’ve been listening to you sing, when you thought you were having alone time, and that they love you?”

“I…” You trailed off, not really able to think of much to say. She did make extremely valid points. If you were in his situation you would be absolutely terrified and would also avoid the showers, lest you run into the frantic, naked person again.

“I support and love you and I don’t want you to feel bad,  but I can’t tell you that you’re not wrong about possibly being the reason he hasn’t come back.” 

You pouted at her, but she was right. Even if you were being dramatic about a pretty comedic situation, it still made you feel guilty nonetheless and now you just wanted to find him again and apologize.

You thanked Seulgi for her honesty and hugged her before you collected your bag and your phone. As you opened the door, you felt a pen land against the back of your head making you turn towards your roommate. “Also for the record, if you want my opinion, I bet he’s been jerking off to the thought of you naked in front of him this whole time if that will make you feel any better.” You couldn’t help but blush as you threw her pen back at her before locking the door behind you. 

Tonight you were on closing duty at the campus bookstore with a guy from your public speaking class. Hoseok was probably the loudest man you had ever met, but he was also the absolute nicest with the biggest smile you had ever seen. The two of you would frequently be put on shifts together which you were thankful for. With him on shift with you, you could get out of working the register, which he was a natural at, and you could more or less hide within the bookshelves taking inventory and shelving books. 

It was Friday night which meant almost no students would come in. On Fridays, everyone was typically out doing anything else other than thinking about homework, so they were one of your easiest shift days. You were putting a new shipment of psych textbooks away while Hoseok explained in great detail, how hellbent he was on making a new transfer student in his dance class his friend.

“He’s quiet, but that’s only because he’s new. There’s something about him that definitely screams mischief and I feel like he’s my new best friend already. He also danced circles around me during warm-ups this morning so of course, I need to know everything about him. I saw that he’s in your building actually.”

“Hoseok, how do you know what dorm building the new transfer student is in when he has been on campus for like a day?”

The man shrugged from his position behind the register and shoved a stick of gum into his mouth. “Oh I followed him after class,” he said matter of factly before offering you a piece.

You gladly took one and carried the now empty cardboard box in front of you to the back of the store. You loved Hoseok, but your thoughts were with poor Jimin. If he is as quiet as Hoseok says, he will need the patience of a saint to handle all of Hoseok’s personality.

You were grabbing another box of books when you heard the motion detector in front of the store beep, signaling someone coming inside.

“Ah! If it isn’t my favorite freshman, Jeon Jungkook! What can I do for you on this fine Friday night?” Hoseok’s enthusiastic voice reached you all the way in the stockroom as you dragged the box out onto the floor.

“I need a new English 101 book. I uh, maybe spilled an entire pot of coffee on mine.” You didn’t know who Jungkook was, but you silently laughed at him. You had also once been a freshman who destroyed one of your books, so while you felt his pain, you couldn’t help but find amusement in the shared experience.

Hoseok laughed out loud and smacked the counter, as he tends to do when something is particularly funny. “That is probably the saddest thing I’ve heard all day. The school year just started and already you’ve fucked something up!”

“Yah! Stop laughing at me, Hyung! It’s bad enough I have to buy this book at full price. My brother donated me an entire free textbook and it didn’t even last 6 months! Just show me where your overpriced English books are.”

“Yeah, yeah. Aisle 2 towards the back. My lovely associate is back there somewhere if you need her help finding it.” 

Footsteps made their way across the store to where you were currently putting books away. Grabbing a nearby English 101 book off of the shelf next to you, you started walking, intending to meet the boy halfway. As soon as he rounded the corner, you nearly tripped over your own two feet.

Mystery Shower Boy was standing less than a foot away from you, fully clothed and looking just as shocked to see you as he had during the initial incident. You knew he looked amazing nearly naked, but seeing him clad in a baggy, grey Puma hoodie and matching sweatpants was a whole other sight to see. His dark hair was still as floppy and luscious as it hung in front of his eyes. You really wanted to run your fingers through it.

“You, uh. The shower,” he mumbled. The sound of his voice helped remind you that you were standing in front of him clutching a textbook so hard that your fingers started to hurt.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” You held the book out to him. You watched as he hesitantly walked over to you and eased it out of your grip. 

“Thanks for this,” he said and made a move to turn around.

Apologize for EVERYTHING, dummy! You screamed at yourself. “Wait, Jungkook!” And he did. “I’m really sorry. About...about before. In the shower.” He turned back towards you but didn’t say anything. “I didn’t mean to creep you out or anything. You just have such an amazing singing voice and I got caught up in the moment and forgot that I wasn’t wearing clothes and again, I am really, really sorry for making you feel weird and making you avoid showering for as long as you have and for flashing you all my bits.” You were acutely aware of how loud your voice was echoing throughout the empty bookstore and really hoped Hoseok wasn’t listening (even though you knew he was).

Mystery Shower Boy, er, Jungkook, was still staring at you. You had anticipated he’d call you a name or laugh at you, but his silence was almost as bad.

“What you said was a little creepy, but I’m flattered,” he finally spoke. “You also didn’t stop me from showering, I just showered on a different floor that my friend lives on. I was a little weirded out.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t that big of a deal though. I accept your apology and thanks for the book.”

He turned then and headed back towards the front of the store. “Oh, and by the way,” he started over his shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize for flashing me all of your bits. That was probably the only thing I didn’t mind about that entire interaction.” The tone of his voice almost knocked the wind out of your lungs. He was definitely smirking behind his words and you couldn’t describe how this was making you feel.

You stayed frozen in the aisle as you heard he and Hoseok talk about a mutual friend of theirs that was having a party tomorrow night as he was checking out. They both agreed that they wouldn’t be going before the motion sensor sounded again, signaling Jungkook's exit.

Hoseok’s rapid footsteps could be heard rushing towards you as he found you, still standing in the same spot. “Do you know that Jungkook hasn’t shut up about the super hot naked girl that told him she loved him in the shower for like a week now? I most definitely didn’t think it’d be you.”

Your brain continued to short circuit upon finding out that Jungkook had not only said you were hot but that he had told his friends about you. As you recounted to Hoseok what was previously one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, your mind kept going back to Jungkook. What did any of this even mean and when would you see him again? You hoped more than anything that it would be soon.

Seulgi’s bed was empty when you returned to your room later that night which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the voice you heard coming from the showers as you approached your door. Jungkook was back and he was singing an old Chris Brown song and you literally could have cried in relief right then and there.

You quietly made your way into your room when you felt your foot step on a paper on the other side. You left your door open as you turned on the closest light and picked it up.

I’m taking song requests tonight - J

“Fuck,” you breathed out. You didn’t know exactly what this meant, but you changed into your shower slides and flung your bag across the room without a second thought, all but sprinting into the showers.

Jungkook had moved onto humming a song you couldn’t name, so you cleared your throat as gently as possible. “Am I too late to request a song?”

His chuckle bounced off of the shower walls, making his voice sound deeper than it had earlier in the night and your knees nearly gave out at the sound. “Unfortunately, you did miss request time, but if you’re interested I figure I can make us even.”

“Make us even? What do you-” Your words died in your throat when Jungkook pulled the shower curtain back and he stood in front of you, every part of his body on display for you. Your eyes automatically zeroed in on his dick which was already semi-hard and flushed red. It wasn’t the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life, but the size definitely couldn’t be considered small. You could see every vein and ridge as he got harder, seemingly from you just watching him. “I figured, you showed me yours, so it’s only fair that I show you mine.”

“Th-that’s fair,” you managed to choke out. Your eyes darted all over his body, not really knowing where to look.

“Like I said earlier, you flashing me didn’t bother me at all. Honestly, I’ve thought about it every night since.”

“Really?”

“Really. What’s your name?” Somehow you remembered your name long enough to tell him. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” That would’ve been so cheesy and nearly romantic if the two of you weren’t standing in the middle of your very public dorm shower, you fully clothed and Jungkook fully not clothed. “How about this, I’ll sing you whatever you want on one condition.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.” The words were barely out of his mouth before you were rushing towards him, hands grabbing at his wet hair, lips colliding with his. His lips were just as soft as they looked and his mouth tasted like Hoseok’s watermelon flavored gum. You felt his arms, also just as firm as you had imagined, wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. As your hands traveled down from his hair to his shoulders, his hands also moved down to your ass and gripped tightly, causing you to moan into his mouth. 

Jungkook pulled back suddenly and looked at you. His pupils were blown wide and his hair was sticking up wildly where you had pulled on it. “I want you to know that I definitely want to take you out on a date and get to know you better, but I would really love it if I could fuck you right now. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way you looked, standing there, naked and wet...” he trailed off and brought his hips forward so that you could feel his hard-on press against your thigh. 

You weren’t the type of woman who went around fucking random guys whose names you only found out the same day of having a real conversation with them, but there was no way in hell you were about to turn down the most gorgeous man you have ever seen in all of your days. 

Instead of answering Jungkook, you grabbed his dick, wasting no time in moving your hand over it. He let out a harsh breath through his nostrils and let his eyes slip shut for a second. He then began to unbutton the flannel you were wearing, removing your hand to pull the fabric off of your body then moving to your bra.

“We can’t let your clothes get wet,” he mumbled, nimble fingers unbuttoning your jeans and pulling both them and your panties down in one go. The next few seconds were spent getting your clothes off of your body and tossing them onto the sink. Jungkook pulled you further into his shower stall and closed the curtain behind the two of you.

“I want you,” you whispered in his ear, bringing his head level to yours as your lips moved to his neck, sucking and biting at him.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, large hands cradling your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples. Everything was happening so fast, your mind barely had time to keep up. 

Jungkook moved his head down, lips wrapping around one of your nipples, sucking harshly. Your hands were in his hair again, tugging to bring him impossibly closer. One of his hands reached down to hitch your leg around his waist as his finger moved to start rubbing in slow circles around your clit.

“Jungkook,” His name fell from your lips louder than you anticipated. He smiled and switched his mouth to your other nipple, biting the sensitive nub and tugging on it with his teeth. At the same time, one of his fingers slipped into your pussy, making you let out another moan of his name.

One finger moving in and out of you turned into two as his movements became faster. As you were letting out whimper after whimper, you thought about the fact that anyone could walk in on the two of you and hear you all but crying for this man. That thought alone made you clench around Jungkook’s fingers.

“Jungkook, please. Fuck me now,” you whined, grabbing hold of his erection again. He cursed under his breath and slowly removed his fingers from inside of you. After sucking his fingers clean, he left your one leg around his waist as he positioned himself so that the head of his dick rubbed against your clit. You held your breath as you felt him adjust and slide easily into you. You both let out identical moans once he bottomed out. You had never felt this full in your life and you already didn’t want it to be over. 

With a grip on your thigh, Jungkook slowly moved his hips back, almost pulling all the way out before sharply thrusting into you. You could hear yourself let out a shriek at the sensation as you gripped his biceps. 

“Make that sound again,” he grunted, his hips starting to move faster. You genuinely obeyed as Jungkook started fucking into you faster, his fingers gripping your hips so hard you were sure he’d leave bruises. You could feel every inch of him inside of you, the sensation unparalleled to anything else you have ever felt. Each time his pelvis became flush with yours, you felt the head of his dick brush against your g-spot, getting you to your end embarrassingly fast.

“Ju-Jungkook, I’m gonna cum so soon. P-please don’t stop,” you moaned out. 

Spurred on by your words, Jungkook reached down and gripped your other thigh, pulling you closer against his body, now pinning you between himself and the shower wall. Watching his arms flex was enough to almost send you over the edge.

He continued to quickly fuck into you, the sound of your skin colliding made impossibly louder due to the acoustics in the tiled room. You knew that you were making loud, pathetic sounds and Jungkook was loving every second of it. Your feeling of bliss was amplified when one of Jungkook’s fingers slid down and began to harshly rub your clit. It took less than 30 seconds before you were quite literally, screaming Jungkook’s name and cumming all over him.

“Yes, just like that, baby. Cum all over my dick,” he moaned out, his movements slowing down as he came almost immediately after you. You could feel his warm release filling you and dripping out around his dick, the sensation almost enough to have you cumming again.

He held you up like that, still buried inside of you as you both tried to catch your breath. As much as you would’ve loved to fall asleep with Jungkook’s arms gripping you like they were, you were still acutely aware of your location. You reluctantly tapped his arms to break him out of his post-nut daze and he slowly slid himself out of you and carefully allowed you to stand on your own feet. 

You looked up at him only to see him already staring back at you. “I meant what I said. I want to take you out.” He leaned down to kiss you again, this time the kiss was much more innocent with no other intention behind it. “Let’s get cleaned up. It’s probably well past midnight.” You nodded up at him as he pulled back, allowing you to step into the spray.

Jungkook began humming again as the two of you quickly bathed. Your legs felt like gelatin as you found yourself leaning against him for support as you finished, not missing the laugh he let out at your newborn baby deer stance. After turning the water off, he let you use his towel first before you made your way over to the sink to put your clothes back on.

“So...” you started when you were dressed and his towel was securely around his waist. “I guess I should like, give you my number or something?”

“That would be nice. Or I could always just start singing in the shower. I’m sure my siren song will lead you right to me.” You rolled your eyes at him, snatching his phone from his fingers and putting your number in, making sure to send yourself a quick text message. “Really?” he asked, seeing the microphone emoji you sent yourself.

“What?” You shrugged. “If you think this isn’t the emoji going next to your name in my phone then you have obviously learned nothing from this entire saga.” It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes as he grabbed your hand and walked the extremely short journey to your room.

“Can I text you tomorrow? I have class and work pretty much all day, but we can figure out when to meet up next if that’s okay with you,” he murmured, a blush spreading across his face. It was funny to see him look so shy after he had just fucked you hard enough for the entire floor to hear. 

You nodded and stood on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips which he returned. He squeezed your hand and turned to walk down the hall. You watched him go into a room that was across and 6 doors down from you. You made that mental note before walking into your room, nearly jumping out of your skin at the sight of Seulgi and Joohyun lounging on Seulgi’s bed, watching her laptop together.

As soon as you walked in, Seulgi paused whatever they were watching and they both eyed you up and down. “Well good evening. How was your shower sex?” She said casually.

You nearly tripped over your jeans as you pulled them off. “What?”

“Oh don’t even try to play us. We got back to the room around the 10th, ‘Oh Jungkook!’ So now you have to tell us everything.”

Once your pajamas were on, you climbed into your own bed and began telling your friends what had transpired all the way from the bookstore to about ten minutes ago. It had literally been a rollercoaster, going from moping about one of your less than glamorous moments to getting your guts rearranged by someone you had pined over as long as you had. Now that you thought about it, it was Saturday now which meant Jungkook would be hitting the showers later that night.

As Seulgi compared your turn of events to some cliche fanfiction, you sent Jungkook a quick text.

Y/n: I know when we can meet up next. Tonight in the showers. Normal time? 👅

You hadn’t expected a reply, but your phone buzzed almost immediately making you smile.

Jungkook: See you there. You bring the music 😉

[osamiiya]

another milestone🥺 ur growing so fast i'm so happy for u🤩 once again i am here to support ur event 🥳 can i get mattsun with #41 song: love is only a feeling by joey bada$$

Look it's Lyss 🥺 Please you've been here before 100 followers and I'm so thankful ily ❤️❤️

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x Reader

Scenario: #41 Fake dating each other to go to a wedding, falling in love.

**This one is kinda long, oops

Omiomi's 200 Follower Event

-Monday-

"So, what you're saying is that your cousin's wedding is this weekend and you don't have a date to get your pushy relatives off your back, so you need me to act like we're dating?"

You blink a couple times, shocked that he got it completely on the first try.

"Yeah.... that's exactly it."

Matsukawa shrugs "It's not like I have anything else to do, and it's free wedding cake."

You bark out a laugh, drawing the attention of people at nearby cafe tables.

"I can drive us, it isn't too far." You say, trying to further convince him so he won't back out suddenly.

At this Matsukawa snorts, leaning in to look you in the eye.

"Now what kind of a fake boyfriend would I be to let my fake girlfriend drive us there?"

You roll your eyes "Fine, but we need to lay down some rules."

He nods and motions for you to continue.

" 1. No kissing on the lips unless it's a situation in which we absolutely have to, other skinship will be ok. 2. We leave Friday morning, and come back Sunday night because the wedding is in the afternoon on Saturday. During then we'll probably have to share a room, I'll take the sofa or we'll use pillow dividers. 3. We met in college, and you asked me out." Matsukawa's eyes are narrowed in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as he commits it to memory.

"Easy enough." He grins, this was going to be a piece of cake.

You spend the rest of your "lunch date", full empasis on the quotes, discussing your backstory and other details that might be asked about.

-Friday-

Your doorbell rings and you grab your luggage, opening the door to see Matsukawa, white shirt and black joggers. His messy hair falling slightly in his face.

He was always attractive, but this outfit makes your mouth go dry and you swallow hard, grinning at him as he waves.

"Ready to go?"

The car ride was about 6 hours, you taking the first half and Matsukawa taking the second half, claiming that he wants your family to see what a good boyfriend he was, driving you to the wedding.

While you drove he fed you snacks and gave you instructions from the map app on his phone cackling when you missed an exit.

He napped for an hour before he had to drive, not wanting to be tired when he had to drive.

You take some glances to him, and usually people wouldn't find a boy passed out, leaning against the window with his mouth slightly open, attractive. But the butterflies in your stomach fluttered and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him awake.

Soon, you pull up to the gas station halfway mark that the two of you agreed on. You lightly tap him awake, and stifle a smile as he groans awake, stretching as his shirt rode up a little.

"Are we there?" He's half asleep and you allow a smile, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"I'll get you a coffee." Your heart is beating erratically as you pay for the canned coffee from the gas station, remembering Matsukawa's shirt riding up as he stretched.

You open the car door and hand him his coffee, he grunts a thank you and starts the car, taking a sip of his coffee occasionally humming along to the radio.

"This coffee sucks." He deadpanns, finishing up the can.

"But you finished it." You point out and he rolls his eyes before cracking a smile.

That's all it takes to break the ice you didn't know had formed, cracking jokes and wheezing as you pull into the hotel, your Aunt greeting you guys.

Matsukawa side hugs you and plants a kiss on your forehead, greeting your family.

"Hi, I'm y/n's boyfriend." Your heart warms at the sentence, and you have to scold your brain to stop being so happy. It's fake, it's fake, you're fake dating.

You get the room key and hold your breath as you enter the room, one bed, and there's no couch.

Matsukawa senses your apprehension and shrugs.

"I can sleep on the floor?" He offers, and you shake your head.

"It's fine, I don't want you to be uncomfortable tomorrow."

You don't notice the blush on Matsukawa's face as he fully digests the situation, too busy calming yourself down.

He showers first and then you get ready for bed, coming out of the bathroom to see no pillow wall, but Matsukawa fast asleep.

'I suppose we're close enough to not need pillow wall."

You lie down on the edge of the bed slightly cold, but fall asleep nonetheless.

-Saturday-

The entire day is awkward, you woke up tangled in Matsukawa's arms, his head in your hair, and arms around your waist.

Then at breakfast your cousin noted that you're not holding hands, and so the two of you clasp hands, slightly concerned that you enjoy holding his hand so much.

During the wedding a couple of your older relatives lean over and giggle about how your guy's wedding is next, flustering both of you.

And before you know it you're slow dancing with Matsukawa, head on his chest as his heart beats rapidly.

You must've had too much champagne, because your head is fuzzy and your impulse control is near zero as you get ready for bed.

"Are we going to sleep together?" You mean in it a purely Innocent way, but Matsukawa spits out the water he was drinking, coughing violently as his cheeks and ears turn red.

"What?" He chokes out, and you frown.

Sitting in the bed, you cross your arms and Matsukawa finds you adorable right now.

"You're so cute." He sighs, lying down and opening his arms while realizing what you meant earlier.

"'m not cute." You sigh, content and comfortable.

"I love you." You mumble, not aware of what you're saying completely.

Matsukawa breaths in shakily, not sure how to respond, you're clearly not aware of what you're saying.

"I love you too." He whispers into your ear even though it looks like you've fallen asleep.

-Sunday-

The car ride home is quiet, just anxious glances, you wondering if what you said last night was actually said or just a dream, and Matsukawa wondering if what you said was just a result of the champagne.

"So..." You both start.

The two of you stop, laughing nervously.

"You said you loved me." He clears his throat, refusing to look at you and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"And what if I said I did?" It was a pretty big change, going from being good friends with a slight crush on him, to admitting you were in love with him. Both to yourself and to who you're in love with.

He glances over to you, eyes sparkling.

"I'd say the same thing I said last night."

You blanche, he can't possibly expect you to remember what he said.

"Which is..." You look at him expecting as he smirks.

"I love you too."

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Sparkle

Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle)

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: It’s so fluffy!

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: thank you @rmtndew​ for the edit of Sy in glasses :D More Sy and Wispy? Why yes! 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Uncle Sy,” Annie giggled at her uncle, as he pulled a face. “Sit still.” Her voice going firmer.

Beside her, Willow had her hand on her hips shaking her head at their uncle. “Uncle Sy, we need you to stay very still.”

“Fine, fine.” He gave in sitting statue straight, still as could be.

“Close your eyes, please.” Annie instructed.

Doing as he was asked, Sy closed his eyes and leaning against the couch to support his back. Cross legged on the floor, a mound of pillows under him, he fought the smirk that kept threatening to creep onto his face. The two little girls painting the floral scented mud, clay, paint? Whatever the cool, thick stuff was onto his face. Around his beard, across his cheeks and forehead. Sy felt the soft brush that Aimee had handed them against his skin.

“You know Sy,” Aimee's voice greeted him, yet his eyes remained closed, “this stuff is actually pretty good. It might even help brighten that complexion of yours. Tired and sunburned was so last year.”

Snorting, Sy shook his head, both nieces scolding him for moving while they tried to apply the mask. Directing him to pucker his lips, Willow stood in front of him, a glob of lip moisturizer on her brush, she slapped it on spreading it thickly against his red chapped lips. The girls were taking good care of their Uncle Sy.

At least they wanted to do it at home this time. Sy was unsure of the product quality, but the service was far better and cheaper than when he'd taken them to an actual spa. Now that had been a sight, the look on the woman's face when the giant, bearded man in boots strode into the salon with the two little girls in tow. Despite the initial shock, Sy had to hand it to them, those ladies were magical.

He'd left feeling like his hands, feet, and face had been kissed by angels and butterflies. Hell, he'd even let Willow and Annie pick out a polish for his toes. Sitting in the chair chatting with the woman painting his toes, while his nieces had watched from their own pedicure chairs, Sy learned that men coming in to dote on their daughters and nieces wasn't really all that uncommon. He, however, was one of the first to ask for Pompeii Purple toes. The shade had really brought out his eyes.

In his sister's living room, Sy chuckled when Willow announced that he absolutely needed to trim that scraggly beard of his. In their life time, neither of his nieces had ever bore witness to their uncle without his beard. He liked it too much to part with it. Besides, the women loved it. Clearing his throat, Sy opened his eyes, a mocking frown on his face.

“Don't you dare touch my beard, understood bub?” He smirked. Willow nodded and Annie, standing just out of sight giggled. “There will be no cutting of my beard, until I say so.”

“Oh come on, Sy.” Aimee teased from the kitchen. “You could use a trim,” she winked at Annie.

“I would prefer to do it myself, thank you sister dearest.” He winked at Willow, a near impossible task with the clay beginning to set on his face.

“What if we just make it pretty?” Annie piped up, shuffling into the room with a hairbrush and bows in her hands. “Can we?”

“Please, Uncle Sy.” Willow pulled out the puppy dog eyes. Bouncing on her tip toes with excitement.

Playfully grumbling, Sy waited a minute or two. Letting the little girls get antsy before agreeing. Under some conditions. Nothing but a comb and some pink sparkly bows went into his beard. If they so much as tugged the wrong way, Sy was combing it himself. His beard was his pride and joy, right after his Wispy. He'd worked hard over the years to grow this bad boy.

“Gently,” He reminded them, lifting his chin for Willow to gingerly take the comb through his thick beard.

Climbing onto the couch behind him, Annie sat with her legs crossed gently rubbing a hair brush through his growing curls. A full out pamper day wasn't entirely bad. Enjoying his “spa treatment”, Sy winced when he heard Aimee giggling like a child on too much sugar. He knew his sister well enough to know that this was not going to be good.

“Aim, what in the hel-ck are you doing?” Sy asked glancing at his sister. Her phone poised as she giggled and shrugged.

“I thought ma might like to see. Maybe fire one off to the boys. You still in touch with the Major? Show him what retirement does for ya?”

“You wouldn't dare,”

“Send one to the Major? No. But I would send it to ma and everyone else we know. Come on Sy, you're adorable. You should let me share this on that mommy blog, it would be a hit.” She laughed. “Former Army Captain attacked by Girl Scouts.”

Sy replied with a grunt. More than one single mother, and a few not so single, on that damn blog Aimee was part of had themselves hot and bothered for the youngest Syverson. Every time Aimee mentioned her brother, at least one woman would ask if he was seeing somebody or how he liked children, who weren't his. Sy liked children fine, but he had no interest in taking on any to parent.

“Leave Uncle Sy alone,” Willow pouted, as she put the last bow into his beard. “Don't be mean, mommy.”

“I wasn't being mean, baby girl. Uncle Sy and I were teasing. Now, why don't you finish up those bows and help him wash his face. You can't leave the mask on too long, remember.”

“Oops,”

“It's okay bub,” Sy pulled away from the hair styling by Annie. “You ladies clean up a bit out here and I will go clean my face off.”

Striding down the hall, Sy could feel the clay on his face hardening and drying. If nothing else his pores would be flawless for a few days. Chuckling as he went, he could hear Annie and Willow in the living room. No doubt discussing their next plan for their uncle's beauty treatment. If he had to, there was a lovely yellow nail polish that he'd been eyeing in the box of tricks. It may not be the right season for yellow, but it would surely make the hair on his big toes really pop.

In the bathroom, he grabbed a wash cloth and turned the taps. Allowing the water to reach a nice, warm temperature he began scrubbing the dried clay away from his face. The bows in his hair and beard were a sight to behold. Admiring the handy work, Sy stood for a few seconds looking at the man in the mirror. The one grizzled, gruff, hard as nails and fearless Captain was reduced to a soft and gentle giant.

He loved spending the time with the kids, allowing them to have their fun, before Uncle Sy packed up and drove back across town. It was no wonder people were forever asking him when he'd have his own. Ah well, it was better this way. Sy enjoyed the company of the kids, but all the time and he would be even more grizzled and cranky than he was when he was stationed over in the desert.

Being home had it's perks, like getting to be with his family whenever he wanted. Having sleepovers with the kids, whenever Willow decided that he was lonely in his house. Or how she was forever trying to set him up with any woman they came across, while he had her out. That one was less and less cute, especially as she had somehow been targeting only married women lately.

The last thing Sy wanted was to get his ass kicked by some woman's husband or wife, for hitting on their wife because some kid said she was pretty. Shaking his head, he finished checking himself in the mirror to make sure he had all of the clay off.

Cleaned up and refreshed Sy joined the girls in the living room.

“Ladies, what's next?”

“Lunch!” “Make up!”

Laughing at their very different ideas, he nodded to Annie. “I agree lunch is the much better idea, make up can be after.”

“But mommy said we could go out for lunch. You can't go out unless you have a proper face on.” Willow pouted. Annie sighed. Her cousin had a point.

“Girls,” Aimee spoke, she was about to do everything in her mom power, to get Sy out of this one. As amused as it would be, seeing her brother go to lunch in a full face of make up.

“No, no she's right.” Sy nodded in agreement. “Aim, why not let Annie do your make up and Wispy can do mine. Then we'll all be ready for lunch, hel-ck, I'll even pay. Treat all of my girls.”

“Yeah!” The cheers went up from the girls.

Aimee, rolling her eyes and making a mental note to kill her brother later on. She would never forgive him, nor forget. Some day, she would get him back.  This is when she should suggest wearing their best dresses – Sy included. Instead, she'd pay him back when he least expected. Maybe the next time, she'd insist they go for lunch wearing some over the top princess costumes.

Sy chuckled, what did they have to lose? At 11 years old, Annie was more than capable at putting together some make up. Willow was eccentric with her colour palate, but Sy wasn't worried much about that.

“Mommy, please. Please, we can all do our make up and go for lunch.”

“I hate you,” Aimee whispered passing her laughing brother, sitting down on the floor. “Okay, girls, let's get to it. Then we can make Uncle Sy take us for the best lunch, we've ever had.”

“Drive thru at Burger King isn't that fancy,” laughing, Sy nudged his sister with his elbow.

“Oh, but Sy if we have our best faces on, we need something better than cheap burgers in a bag. I was hoping maybe we could go to Janet's.”

It was Sy's turn to roll his eyes and stifle a groan. Of course Aimee would insist they go inside to eat. Saturday was the busiest day of the week for the small diner. Whatever, Sy was man enough to take it. With more confidence than anyone had ever seen, he would walk into that diner, head high, and his beard bows sparkling. The things he did to keep these children happy.

If it meant buying a hundred ponies, wearing full make up, and walking across a floor of legos – Sy would do it all to see these kids smile.

“I love Janet's!” Willow squealed dancing on her tiptoes, nearly poking her uncle in the eye with the eye shadow brush she was using. The hot pink creme shadow she had chosen for him was really going to pop with his dark beard. “Uncle Sy, please. Please can we go? You said that you would take me there the next time we went for lunch, you said that I could have a big sundae and...”

“Sy?” A sideways glance at her baby brother, Aimee puckered her lips for Annie to apply some lipstick. Offering the kids ice cream as a meal wasn't a crime, but it would explain why they sometimes came home bouncing around like mad hornets in an old coke can.

“Wispy, you're not supposed to tell your ma that I let you at ice cream as a meal.”

“Sorry, but can I?”

“Maybe for dessert, you can Annie can shade a giant sundae.” Aimee reasoned.

“Fine, but the next time we go....” Staring at her uncle, Willow pouted.

“Whatever you want, bubs.” Smirking at his sister, Sy conveniently pointed to the blush in the bag, asking Willow if she thought the orangeish colour would work for him.  “Whatever you want.”

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep. 

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out. 

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table. 

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.” 

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him. 

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now. 

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly. 

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

 A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.” 

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--”

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory. 

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer. 

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

            3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet. 

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did. 

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out. 

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.” 

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

            The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?” 

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow. 

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer. 

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

Taglist~~~

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[the-girl-in-the-box]

Not Today- XXXIV

A/N: Aaand, another late chapter, oops! I had a bit of a crazy week, finishing preparations for an audition I had Wednesday for a music program at my university, then passing the audition, scrambling to get my schedule sorted on Thursday, attending my first day of classes Friday, and making up any work I missed Friday afternoon and all day Saturday. YIKES! 😅 But, I’m very happy in this program, and I can tell I’m finally right where I’m meant to be. Unfortunately, all that did lead to another late chapter, but I have made it an extra thousand words- hopefully that makes up for the lateness!! A trigger warning for child abuse toward the end (canon typical), but enjoy the chapter! Even bigger things are coming soon 👀 Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

--

Ivar was woken first by the light streaming in through their window, and he shifted slightly as if he could avoid it. He felt Asta shifting with him, though far more subtly, as she moved only to press her back closer to his side. He smiled a little, turning his head toward her, and then he shifted once more. Rolling up onto his side, he let one of his arms drape over her waist, and then pulled her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her hair. He found it blocked the sun out perfectly, and so he let out a contented sigh. Yes, he could get used to this.

She rolled over, and he chuckled a bit to himself as he felt her turning back towards him, her arms wrapping around him and head tucking up under his chin.  He adjusted his grip to hold her more securely, his hand resting against her upper back as he pulled her under his arm. There was a greater intimacy between them now, he realized, than there had been before. All the nights they’d slept at each other’s sides, he had still held her then, but it hadn’t been the same as this. Whatever wall she had put up between them had finally cracked that night. With it, Ivar’s insecurities about her had as well.

Now, as he pulled back just a bit to look down at her, he smiled softly. The early morning light was reflecting gently off her skin, making her almost seem to glow in it, contrasting with the thick, dark waves which stretched out behind her. Truly, he would believe she was a goddess, if he was told it was so. As it stood, he believed with all his heart she truly was a Prophet.

“Your blood is fated together.”

The words entered his mind in the Seer’s voice, and when Ivar lifted his eyes, he saw him, sitting somewhere just behind her. But it wasn’t his own voice he heard reply, it was hers.

“Our blood?” she asked. “How can our blood be fated together?”

“In the blood of your fathers,” the Seer answered, no less frustratingly vague than he had been in life. “In the blood of your sons. King begets King, Priest begets Princess, and blood is fated to blood. The darkness grows as the light stays by his side. The tides are pulled by command of the moon.”

“What do you mean by that? What moon, and what tides?” she questioned.

“You are surrounded by the tides, Prophet. But they do not darken your light. You remain. You are all that remains. Wake, and drown in them.”

Asta’s eyes opened suddenly, taking a deep breath as she looked up at Ivar. He found himself blinking a few times, and… he smiled. Even though he knew she had rather mundane ways of making her prophecies, he had no doubt she was somehow truly a Prophet. If the Seer were here, were still alive, and could somehow speak with her, he would say the same. Ivar was sure of it.

Confusion crossed his face as he saw it grow in her, and she even sat up a bit, took a little bit of a look around. “Was there a man in here?” she asked, looking back to Ivar now with her brows drawn. He shook his head.

“None that I’m aware of,” he said. If there had been one, he’d snuck in while they’d slept. But Ivar couldn’t recall anyone but himself and Asta. “Did you hear something?”

“A man’s voice,” she answered. “He spoke to me. You’re sure you heard nothing?”

“I heard nothing,” he answered her honestly. “I have only been awake a few moments, but I think I would have noticed. Did you dream it?”

“Perhaps.”

“They say the Seer has appeared in dreams to people,” he told her. “I have not seen him since his death, but I know I have heard it said.”

Asta hummed, growing more thoughtful at this response from Ivar. “Was he a strangely cryptic man?” Ivar chuckled.

“There was nothing he said which made any sense until you saw it played out in your life,” he replied, which in turn made her chuckle as well. “What did the man in your dream say, hmm?”

To Ivar, it was beginning to sound as if the Seer had come to Asta in a dream, which was only serving to further convince him she was truly a Prophet. If the Seer gave her a prophecy, could that be how she knew to say some of what she did? Things such as her various warnings to Oleg? That would certainly make sense.

“He told me the tides would be pulled at the command of the moon.”

Ivar froze.

He’d heard those words, once before, when the very same prophecy had been given to him. Many times, he’d reflected on it as he watched Asta, and as he found himself doing whatever it was she needed. Even now, as he had proposed marriage to her, not only to ensure he never loses her, but also for her own security in Wessex, he was doing all he could for her. He couldn’t remember the last time another person had had such influence over him.

Well, there was Freydis. And, had Asta not stayed so steadfastly by his side, he might have questioned her in the aftermath of Freydis’s betrayal.  But as it was, he found that he trusted her. He wanted to trust her. He didn’t know if he would be able to take her betrayal, not so shortly after Freydis’s. He needed her, and so he was pulled at her command. Ivar the Boneless would always be pulled at the command of Asta the Prophet.

He hummed, and brought a hand up to push her hair behind her ear. “What do you think it means, hmm?”

“I don’t know,” Asta replied. She leaned into Ivar’s touch, the way he brushed her hair back, and gave a sigh. “He said many other things, but nothing I could pick any meaning out of.”

“Try not to worry too much then, my love,” he said. “Just take some time to rest, instead.”

Asta nodded a little, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a long exhale. “You’re right,” she said. “Yes, I’ll just…” She paused as she looked up at him, and cupped his jaw with her hand. “I’ll focus on you instead.”

Ivar smiled and nodded. “And I will focus on you,” he promised. He let his hand move from her hair to her back, pulling her closer as he leaned down to press his lips to hers. The little hum she gave, a sound of contentment he had learned to recognize from her the night before, made warmth spread through his chest. Indeed, if he could wake up with her like this every morning, he would die a happy man.

Unfortunately, as with all things, their morning together eventually came to an end, and Ivar and Asta had to get up and prepare for their day. Their routine was well established by now, and they moved around their chambers as if they’d been practicing this all their lives- stopping to help the other as needed, and finding the other there almost before the request was made.

If nothing else, they were nearly perfectly attuned to the other. Ivar would take a different breath when he was about to speak, and if he was sitting on the bed without his braces, then Asta knew what he wanted before he had even voiced it. She’d easily go to get his braces, and bring them to him, helping him to get them on his legs without being asked. 

Likewise, she would give a very particular huff when she was struggling with her hair, and so Ivar would call her over before she even requested he help her with it. A perfect team was what they had become, and when the time came for them to take Igor to the market, both were prepared simultaneously, and ready to start their day. It was all terribly convenient, and gave them a sense of domesticity with the other about which they’d never complain.

Igor was already prepared to leave when they arrived at his chambers, and today, he’d clearly decided to bring along his puppet. Asta had smiled when she saw this, and chuckled softly.

“Ah, the King will be joining us today, then?” she asked him teasingly, and Igor grinned and nodded.

“He has decided he wants to get out,” he replied. “See his Kingdom.”

“Is that so, your Majesty?” Ivar asked the puppet.

Taking on a voice as if the puppet were speaking, Igor answered, “It is. I want to see my people, and how they are doing.”

The three went into the marketplace as they had planned, walking about and looking at different things for sale, laughing at a hat Asta tried on which didn’t suit her at all, and Ivar even bought a necklace for her, which did rather well suit her. It was a silver pendant, in which was carved the Triskele, a symbol of growth and change. The symbol seemed rather fitting, and so when she took to it, he gifted it to her. She’d grinned and hugged him happily, kissed his cheek, and asked him to put it around her neck. Seeing her so happy with the little gift had warmed Ivar’s heart.

Later, sometime that afternoon, a man approached Ivar while Asta was off at another booth, entertaining the boy with something. The message was something Ivar wasn’t overly fond of hearing, but accepted, and went to Asta and Igor with. “We must go,” he explained, and Asta sighed softly.

“Can I assume that…?” she began, and he gave a nod. This only caused her to let out an irritated huff. “He can’t even give us a day, can he? One day, just to do whatever we feel like?”

Ivar chuckled softly, and shook his head. “Apparently, he cannot,” he said. “Come.”

Asta rolled her eyes again, and turned to Igor. “Well?” she asked the boy. “Are you coming?”

“Where are we going?” he questioned, though he did follow Asta and Ivar as they started back toward the palace.

The latter of them answered, “To see Uncle Oleg.”

Igor wasn’t happy with this answer, and so decided to entertain himself by speaking once more through his puppet. “About what?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ivar replied. “Oleg is… an enigma.”

“What’s an ‘igma’?” Igor asked then, confused enough at the word to drop the puppet voice and look up at Ivar. Asta chuckled softly, and corrected him.

“An enigma,” she said.

“What’s an enigma?”

Ivar chuckled softly, and shook his head. “I’ve no idea,” he replied.

“An enigma is something that cannot be understood,” Asta explained to them both. “And… a very fitting description for Oleg.”

Igor had stopped paying so much attention to what Asta and Ivar were saying, wondering to himself what it might be that his uncle wanted with them that was so important he had to interrupt their day out. “Perhaps Uncle Oleg wants to give me a present,” he suggested somewhat hopefully.

“Perhaps he does,” Asta agreed. She rather doubted it.

But, it was enough for Igor, who smiled and said, “Perhaps he wants to give me half of the sky.”

Ivar and Asta shared a brief look. The sky did not belong to Oleg, and so to hear Igor speak as though it did, even after the talks they’d had with him, was concerning to say the least. Ivar stopped, putting a hand on Igor’s shoulder as he turned to him.

“He cannot give you something that is already yours,” he told the boy seriously. “Remember that, hmm?”

Asta looked up, back toward the palace, where she found Oleg watching them from the balcony just above the door. He turned and went inside.

The trio soon found their way back into the palace, and into the main dining hall, where Oleg was already waiting for them, sitting at the head of the table as he did so. Katia sat to his right, and Asta swallowed slightly at the sight. Something didn’t sit right with her about this, though she wasn’t sure just what it was.

“Prince Igor,” she greeted, smiling at the sight of him. “And Ivar the Boneless and Asta the Prophet. How very lovely.” She smiled as well at the Vikings. “Will you have some tea?”

Oleg patted the place to his left as the Princess stood, gesturing for Igor to come and sit there, and the boy did so eagerly. Asta, still more than a touch suspicious, lifted her brow as she watched Katia go for the pot.

“Tea?” she questioned.

As opposed to answering, Katia simply repeated, “Tea,” with a warm smile.

Asta hummed and sat down, as Ivar asked, “What is tea?”

“A plant, from Asia,” Katia replied.

Of course, she answers him, Asta thought a bit bitterly.

As Ivar sat down beside her, Katia knelt to pour him a cup of tea, holding eye contact with him for far longer than necessary. She repeated this exactly with Asta, who looked up into her eyes with a silent question behind them. What are you playing at? they almost seemed to ask.

Katia’s seemed to answer, Trust me.

Asta blinked a few times, confusion crossing her face. Something in Katia’s expression made the Shieldmaiden want to do exactly that, though realistically she knew doing so would likely be a horrible decision. But what if it wasn’t? What if trusting Katia was something she was meant to do? What if nothing was as it seemed here in Kiev, and Katia was not doing as she seemed to be?

Oleg spoke again, pulling Asta’s attention away from the Rus Princess with his anxious tone as he suggested, of what tea was, that it was, “Medicine, perhaps,” and chuckled shortly after.  So, Katia’s behavior was unsettling? Asta’s attention immediately returned to her, as Oleg began to try and move things along. “I thought you might be interested in the further plans for the invasion of your countries,” he said. “I mean, of course, our countries.”

A telling, “Hmm,” from Katia, who finished pouring the tea, and returned to her place at Oleg’s side.

Ivar replied, “Of course,” but Asta was now unable to stop thinking.

There was a message in Katia’s little hum, something about what Oleg had just said. What had he just said? The invasion of your countries. I mean, of course, our countries… Had that been a slip of the tongue, or of the subconscious? What was he saying through that?

She began to pay more attention as he explained, “As you know, we cannot put our plan into operation until next spring,” wanting to see if she could pick up on anything else out of the ordinary. “However,” he continued, “it seems to me it would be ill-advised to commit such huge forces into many unknown…”

At this time, Igor began to play with the puppet again, bored of the conversation regarding so much plotting and planning. He was still a child, after all, and what child wanted to plan the invasion of another country? Oleg noticed this, and gave a small sigh as he finished, “...theatres of war.”

Igor got up then, carrying the puppet around behind Oleg to go and sit beside Katia, who wrapped an arm around him and began to tend him much as a mother would. Oleg ignored this, and continued to speak.

“I know you can advise us on what we are likely to encounter,” he said to Ivar and Asta, “but I feel as though we need a more current and a much broader knowledge of those countries…” He became distracted by Igor pretending to feed the puppet, watching him for a few moments before continuing with a groan, “we plan to attack.”

Ivar could see the irritation beginning to grow in Oleg, and it occurred to him that if the man’s attention was not pulled away from the boy once more, he may lose his temper. That was something no one there, he didn’t doubt, would want to see. “Strategy and planning are everything,” he agreed as means of doing exactly this, and tapped the side of his head for emphasis. “The mind is a far better battlefield than the sword.”

“My intention is to send small raiding parties,” Oleg explained. Ivar’s plan had worked, then. “To take prisoners, from whom further information can be gleaned.”

Igor again got up, and moved to sit just to Ivar’s right, as if having been reminded by the Viking speaking up that he was there, and could indeed be sat with. Said Viking answered Oleg, “I agree, that is very sensible.”

“And, perhaps you would even consider appointing us to lead a couple of these raiding parties?” Asta suggested. 

Oleg looked to her, as if a bit surprised she would make this suggestion. But, he smiled falsely at her, and replied insincerely, “I will definitely take your request into consideration. Although, Katia and I both enjoy your… intimate company.”

Asta wasn’t surprised he was already wanting to turn this down. After all, the entire reason she did want to go was to see if she could run into Hvitserk, or perhaps Torvi, Ubbe, even Björn… There was still a horrible feeling in her gut when she thought of Lagertha, of the nightmare she’d had concerning the older Shieldmaiden, and if she could just make contact with one of her old friends, without alerting them to Ivar’s location… she thought she might be able to find something out, and set her mind at ease.

She stopped staring Oleg down as Katia spoke up, seeming to agree with her husband. “You are both… very intriguing,” she said. “Some of the things you say surprise me, and I never know what you will say next. You claim there is a connection between us, which I cannot fully understand…”

Ivar smiled tightly at her, and Asta hummed. “I wish I could understand it,” she said. “You aren’t alone in that lack of understanding. In fact, I find it likely that only the gods know.”

Katia hummed, but before she could answer Asta, Igor began to beat the hand of the puppet on the table, as if the puppet were demanding everyone’s attention. Oleg glared irritatedly, but Ivar took a different approach, looking instead to appease the boy.

“What do you say, Prince Igor?” he asked. “Do you want to come with us on a raiding party?”

“I must consult the King,” Igor said, and Ivar acquiesced with a hum, and a gesture to the puppet which clearly encouraged Igor to do so. Taking on the puppet’s ‘voice’ once again, Igor said, “I think you should make your own decisions!”

Oleg cracked.

“What are you doing, huh?!” he demanded, almost launching himself to his feet and storming around the table toward Igor. He pulled the boy up to his feet, and yelled, “Are you crazy?” before throwing him back down again.

Asta gasped, but before she could get up to push Oleg away from Igor, Igor himself stood, and putting the puppet between himself and Oleg, speaking once more through it, he shouted back, “I am not crazy! I am the King and I own everything! This table, this room, this palace! I own the land and the sky!”

Ivar watched, almost as if enthralled or entranced, as Igor finally stood up for himself. It was a far cry from the anxious expression his ‘wife’ wore, and her hand closed around his arm tightly. Oh yes, she was anxious indeed.

And, she was right to be, as Oleg then screamed, and snatched the puppet away from Igor, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it, shredding it until it was nothing more than chips of wood. When Igor tried to run, Oleg grabbed him by the back of his collar, and threw him down as if he weighed no more than the puppet. He got down into Igor’s face, and snapped, “Don’t do that anymore! Don’t be stupid. You are not the King, you are my ward. I am responsible for you, and without you, you are nothing. Do you understand?” Igor tried to look away from him, and Oleg grabbed his jaw, forcing the boy’s attention back. “Don’t ever try to make fun of me again, or I’ll cut out your tongue and feed your liver to my dogs.”

Finally released, Igor jumped to his feet, and fled the room. 

Asta, horrified, turned to watch Oleg as he stood, straightened his coat, and returned to sit beside Katia once more- though, the Princess seemed to, at the least, be judging Oleg’s actions quite harshly in her head. “He’s a good boy,” Oleg said. “He just needs to be controlled.”

Katia took a sip of her tea.

When the room remained silent, Oleg again spoke. “You had a child once, didn’t you, Ivar?”

Asta’s eyes hardened, and she glared daggers at Oleg, sensing how Ivar tensed up beside her in a highly uncomfortable way. He gave Oleg a tight smile, took his crutch, and stood. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’ve had enough to eat.” The way he picked up the shattered puppet, and carried it from the room, revealed that was far from the true problem.

Asta took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly as she stood, and looked down at Oleg. His eyes met hers once more, preparing for another battle of will with her, but today, she wasn’t playing. She spoke one sentence. “The gods will judge you harshly, Prince Oleg.” One sentence, and she left.

Ivar and Asta had eventually found Igor up in the nest in his room, and both had managed the climb up in there to sit with him. The boy now rested against Ivar, who held him tightly, with Asta’s arms wrapped around them both. 

“Do not weep, dear Igor,” Ivar said softly, and pressed a soothing kiss to the top of his head. “Sweet child, do not weep. We are here, now.”

Asta knew Igor likely didn’t realize the full meaning of Ivar’s words. But she did, and she agreed with him wholeheartedly. She and Ivar had become fiercely protective of Igor, in their time in Kiev, and now that they were there, they weren’t going to let Oleg get away with treating him like this. No, on the contrary.

They were going to make him pay.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @sylki-simp, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @kingniazx, @dekusdante

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

[pinencurls]

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3 

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x 

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

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It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert. 

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him.                  . . . . . 

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni. 

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme. 

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room. 

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.” 

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun. 

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party. 

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates. 

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend. 

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”  

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.” 

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders. 

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests. 

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes. 

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask. 

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note. 

 “Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours. 

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door. 

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever. 

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced. 

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am. 

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table. 

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?” 

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.” 

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..” 

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?” 

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair. 

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case. 

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid. 

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them. 

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?” 

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar. 

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host. 

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.” 

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time? 

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?” 

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night. 

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar. 

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls. 

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold. 

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet. 

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.” 

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?” 

“No Elle, of course I don’t-” 

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet. 

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.” 

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?” 

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee. 

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . . 

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.” 

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.) 

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.” 

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself. 

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?” 

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table. 

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.” 

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-” 

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.” 

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?” 

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room. 

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?” 

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode. 

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?” 

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus. 

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides. 

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head. 

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended. 

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both. 

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick. 

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following. 

“Harry?” 

“Ellie?” 

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes. 

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick. 

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing. 

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing. 

“Oh- H, Sorry!” 

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage. 

“I’m so sorry Harry I-” 

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!” 

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little. 

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different. 

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me. 

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back. 

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . . 

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.” 

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily. 

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy. 

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry. 

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into. 

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter. 

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night -  incidentally beside Harry -  I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock. 

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him. 

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies. 

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again. 

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?” 

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.” 

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts. 

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.” 

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up. 

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one. 

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.” 

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?” 

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?” 

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket. 

“I know exactly what you mean, H.” 

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm. 

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again. 

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides. 

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit. 

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago. 

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore. 

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant. 

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser. 

“Then stay.” 

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.” 

. . . . . 

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway. 

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end. 

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face. 

“And you’re almost six foot!” 

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.” 

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough. 

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.” 

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again. 

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks. 

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry. 

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again. 

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm. 

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine. 

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side. 

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before? 

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa. 

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen. 

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.” 

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention. 

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.” 

. . . . .  

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all. 

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already. 

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all. 

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden  doors of Blondies. 

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner. 

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?” 

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him. 

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly. 

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?” 

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.” 

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say. 

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.” 

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”  

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften. 

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure. 

“How do you mean?” 

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-” 

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.” 

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry. 

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all  rather unsuccessfully. 

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?” 

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?” 

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’” 

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing. 

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’” 

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much. 

. . . . . 

Unknown Number 

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’ 

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago. 

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone. 

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’ 

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up. 

Me

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.” 

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’ 

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all. 

. . . . . 

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!” 

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?” 

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?” 

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends. 

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years. 

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?” 

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.” 

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us. 

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.” 

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech. 

. . . . .

 The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches. 

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.” 

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me. 

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.” 

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.” 

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood. 

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.” 

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens. 

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats. 

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition. 

. . . . . 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..” 

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.” 

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?” 

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?” 

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me. 

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection. 

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter. 

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits. 

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed. 

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-” 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.” 

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips. 

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little, 

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.” 

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed. 

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?” 

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?” 

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.” 

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open. 

“That’s the plan, love.” 

. . . . . 

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed. 

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this. 

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me. 

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble: 

“Breakfast?” 

. . . . . 

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed. 

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes. 

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner. 

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares. 

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!” 

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him. 

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.” 

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands. 

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.” 

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion. 

“What’ve got yeh bag for?” 

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on. 

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-” 

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.” 

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space. 

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-” 

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.” 

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm. 

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start. 

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road. 

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums. 

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.” 

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road. 

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.” 

. . . . . 

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented. 

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?” 

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?”  She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.” 

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.” 

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed. 

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.” 

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth. 

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said. 

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine. 

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine. 

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction. 

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes. 

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him. 

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me. 

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing. 

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo. 

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend. 

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.” 

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact. 

Me 

Meet me at mine x

Harry 

Okay - what was that about? 

Me 

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/ 

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?” 

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.” 

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec”  before the line goes dead. 

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly. 

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.  

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me. 

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.” 

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?” 

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.” 

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me. 

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.” 

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange. 

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a  time I thought I could lose him. 

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair. 

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket. 

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.” 

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly. 

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?” 

“Eleanor would have a field day.” 

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again. 

“Oh yeah?” He teases. 

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.” 

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him. 

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.” 

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Uh huh…” 

“Really..she’d be right about that?” 

“I’m pretty sure-” 

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep. 

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.” 

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder. 

“I like you too H….just a little bit.” 

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear. 

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession. 

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs. 

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.” 

. . . . .    

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!” 

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand. 

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun. 

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest  to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north. 

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him. 

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer. 

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest. 

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning. 

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group. 

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him. 

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy. 

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear. 

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction. 

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!” 

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going. 

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips. 

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done. 

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?” 

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven. 

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces. 

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.” 

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object. 

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven. 

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand. 

“Yes dear?”  

“What was that?” 

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-” 

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?” 

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.” 

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin. 

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?” 

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little. 

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter. 

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second. 

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?” 

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Hell yeah a fic title, shortest story of, Attention Span. That's it that's the title. What it do?

Oop. Short attention span? Did you mean- Stu Macher?

Cuz you getting Stu Macher for this. Thanks for asking this and playing by the way!

---

Attention Span.

---

According to him you were taking-

“Toooooo loooooong.”

You shook your head with a laugh before looking up from your book at your boyfriend, he had his arms crossed on the table, head on top as he peered over at you. You spoke up,

“Yeah well if SOMEONE didn’t insist on keeping me up last night I could have finished this report yesterday and we could have spent all day today doing whatever HE wanted-”

A scoff and a roll of his eyes, sitting back in his chair, foot now on the edge of the table, leaning back precariously,

“Look you wanted to go to that midnight double feature as bad as I did-”

“Oh as IF.”

You fired back with a smile and he stuck his tongue out at you, hands coming behind his head, looking far too comfortable. Last night had been fun and you did want to go along, he showed you a great time and honestly you didn’t wanna spend your whole Saturday in a library so you said,

“I will TRY to hurry up, okay?”

A wide smile from him as he allowed all four legs of the chair to touch back down again. He looked happy to hear it, he spoke again

“Good thing too if not I might have just had to distract you from your work.”

Before you could even think of asking what he meant you glanced up and that tongue of his was out once more, a flick of his eyes and the implication was clear. The thought of that happening in the library was an exciting one to say the least.

Maybe you should let him distract you.

[lettersfromn0where]

ZFAW: Self-Love Saturday

For the last day of @zkfanworkweek!

It’s no secret that I love writing more than almost anything in existence, or that I’m somewhat absurdly passionate about my work. I’m well aware that a handful of people probably think this is annoying (how many people who have had the misfortune to be in any kind of chat with me never want to hear the name “Hina Oyama” again? Probably most of them), and I was hesitant to do this at all because I know I can be self-centered and I’m trying to work on that. But I realized that I’m not doing this for feedback or because I want people to read my work - if I were to talk about my fic like this, it would be coming from a place of excitement about sharing something I love with others, not about finding new readers. (Have I done a little too much networking of that kind? Yes. Am I proud of it? Not at all. That’s why I had to make sure that that wasn’t why I was doing this.) 

So I’m going to go for it, and give you guys the background behind a few of my favorite things I’ve written. Stories below the cut. 

Story #1: The One That Taught Me That It’s Okay to Fail As a Writer

and I'll write you a tragedy (June 2020)

I wrote this back in June, when I was first getting into AtLA - I think it was my third or fourth published Zutara fanfic. I didn’t have many friends yet; most of the ones I talked to at the time, I've since lost touch with. So my participation in the fandom was largely isolated. I’d just write things and yeet them into the void without a care in the world - that’s what I did with “And I’ll Write You a Tragedy.” I had this grand idea that it would be ~the angstiest thing ever written~ and I was SO excited to get home (I was at the beach when I got the idea) so I could work on it...

Only to find that I simply wasn’t ready for the story I was trying to tell.

Oh, I wrote it, and it was...decently well-reviewed for something that caused me so much existential angst. But it fell so short of the concept that I had for it that, the moment I hit “post,” I was so frustrated that burst into tears. (Like a kindergartner. One can never say I deserve to be called an adult.) I wanted to establish myself in this new fandom so badly that anything I perceived as substandard was a crushing failure. And it was the process of talking myself through that frustration that taught me something I’ve tried to hold close ever since: every writer writes a dud every once in a while. No one is at the top of their game 100% of the time; those who appear to be probably don’t post the duds. Should I have posted this, then? Well, the jury is out on that. I still hate it. But it deserves a spot here just for the lesson it taught me. 

Story #2: the One That Broke the Angst Ceiling 

who lives, who dies, who tells your story (July 2020)

I have no idea how this took my angst from the coltish awkwardness of “sort of sad, but not very well-done” to genuinely depressing, but it did. Maybe I should blame quarantine and all of the difficulties that brought with it, or just the additional writing experience I had gained by that time. Whatever the reason, I remember this - even though it never got very popular - as an absolute triumph for me as a writer, because this is when I FINALLY learned how to write effective angst. For *years* I had thought I was simply incapable of writing anything sad, but this showed me that I wasn’t. I’ll never understood what flipped the switch (maybe it was @hiniwalay, whose help in forming this idea was invaluable...I love and miss you so much <3), but it’s a very important part of my writing journey even so. 

Story #3: The One That Got Inexplicably Popular

Tethered (Zutara Week - written in June 2020, posted in late July 2020)

Zutara Week 2020 was sort of the point at which I established myself in this fandom and I have super fond memories of the warm reception I received at the time. It was such a positive, encouraging experience - and perhaps the one and only time that people have actually wanted to indulge my somewhat ridiculous obsession with fluff. And this was sort of the peak of my entrance into the ZK fandom. 

And I am...not sure how I feel about that. 

Soulmate AUs are obviously super popular, so I knew that “Tethered” was going to be one of my better-recieved ZKW fics if I did it even marginally well. What I did NOT expect was that, by the time of this post, it would be exactly tied with The Waiting Game for my most kudos’d work. It’s almost insane to me that that is a thing, because, while I don’t hate how “Tethered” came out, I definitely don’t feel like it deserved the hype it got. It’s...just another soulmate AU, but seeing that I was capable of writing something that people would gobble up did wonders for my confidence - and, I think, for my reputation in the fandom as well. It was definitely a mile-marker on my journey, even if I would rather it have been a different ZKW oneshot (this one was my favorite).

Story #4: The Twitter Favorite

Four Days and Three Nights (written August 2020)

I will never, ever forget the day I posted this. 

I joined a Zutara group chat on Twitter just before Zutara Week 2020 began, and I quickly became...a little bit desperate for their attention. “The Waiting Game” (much more on that later) sprung from that desperation, but this was the one that actually did something about it. Which is funny, because it was actually a complete accident! 4D3N, as it is affectionately called on Twitter, was the result of my dumb butt reading “Five,” thinking “I want to write something that depressing!”, and just...going for it. I told myself not to overthink things as I desperately banged out the 3166 words of this story in two hours (because I needed to go for a run before it got dark and didn’t start writing until 3), and that is probably the one and only time in my entire life that telling myself something like that actually worked. Writing 4D3N was just sort of this rush that I barely even had time to recognize while I was caught up in it and the result was something I genuinely felt that I could be proud of - that’s pretty rare. My Twitter friends went slightly insane, half of them wanted to stab me (in a good way), and I finally felt like I actually belonged in this fandom - like I had done something to earn a place there. [Caveat: fandom is for everyone and you never need to “earn the right” to be in one, but my brain latched onto the idea that I didn’t deserve to be creating things for a fandom that didn’t want me and would not let it go. Figures.] Lately, I’ve been struggling with this one a little bit because it’s getting a lot of comparisons to “Five” in which it never fares favorably, for obvious reasons, and it was never actually my favorite fic to begin with, but it still means a lot to me. This is the one I recommend to people who are curious about my work and probably always will be. 

Story #5: The Sleeper Favorite

Lean On (written August 2020)

I have no earthly idea why I like this one so much, but it has to be my favorite oneshot I have up. It’s hurt-comfort and dives into the implications of the Agni Kai for Zuko’s health, both physical and mental - maybe it’s the uniqueness of that premise that endeared it to me, or maybe the personal-ness...is that a word?...of the narrative. The bare-bones summary: Zuko’s health is declining a year after the Agni Kai, Katara shows up to do something about that, and what follows is a year of Pain and Heartache for both of them as they try to navigate their conflicting feelings for each other. But really, it’s a story about healing: physically, yes, but also mentally and emotionally. I certainly relate a lot to Katara in “Lean On,” as I’ve been the friend caught in the crossfire of others’ battles with their mental health many times and I wanted to try to write from both sides of that conflict. But I think I probably wrote more of myself into Zuko than I originally anticipated, as well. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health...at all...and I’ve found myself lashing out at my family far more than I should without even knowing why, isolating myself and growing thorns so that no one would come near me. I hate seeing myself like that, and I hate that I can't seem to make myself do anything about it. So really, I was hashing out my own feelings both past and present, and what I ended up with, whatever you might think of its quality, came from the heart. I also, for whatever reason, really liked my writing here, so I have a special place in my heart for “Lean On.” 

Story #6: The Fluff I Didn’t Hate

Waffleosophy (written September 2020)

Look, there's not a lot to say about this, but it’s definitely my favorite fluff that I’ve ever written. I felt like I finally managed to hit the right note with this so that it came off as sweet without being saccharine, and it feels...I don’t know, wittier than what I usually write? I write a lot of fluff but something about “Waffleosophy” made it feel more polished and coherent than most of my other fluff. This was one that, as ridiculous as its premise was, I felt like I could truly be proud of; since I’m often a bit ashamed of how much of my work is fluff (it feels like “cheating” sometimes, as if I write this way because I lack the skill for real emotional beats), that’s saying a lot. 

Story #7: the Insanely Niche AU

Once In a Lifetime (ongoing)

This one gets updated at the speed of snail, but. ZK ice dance AU. It just makes me so HAPPY. 

Story #8: The One That Actually Did What It Was Meant To Do

Hanabi (written October/November 2020)

This heading is ironic because this was originally supposed to be an angsty slow-burn about surviving on an uninhabited island. Instead, it became as unerringly Sarah S---- as any fic ever has. Oops. 

Hanabi sprung from a desire to write something incredibly soft and wholesome. Seriously. That’s it. I had just finished writing a story that got a lot more violent and dark than I had expected it to, and I wasn’t comfortable with that; I wanted to return to my roots, if you will, and write something ~soft~. I wanted to write about good people, doing good things, being good to each other, with as much tender pining as I could cram in on the side. I wanted unique worldbuilding and a relationship that had to be built rather than handed over under the guise of Soulmateism (because this was the period in which I hated The Waiting Game and everything it stood for, aka...that. It was a weird time). And I actually? Did all of that? There’s this F. Scott Fitzgerald quote about how writers have to “sell their hearts” that I think about often, and I did that here. This has as much of my heart in it as anything ever will, I think, and if I had to pick a favorite thing that I have ever written, it would be “Hanabi.” I love it a lot. 

Story #9: The One You Knew Was Coming

The Waiting Game series (written July-October 2020)

I have so many feelings about this that I can’t even really articulate them all. Where would I even start? 

There was the fact that the first installment was written in two weeks (thirteen days, 94,832 words) to try to get the attention of a Twitter chat. There was the matter of Hina Oyama, my blog’s namesake, an OC who took on an absolutely massive life of her own to the point where she was quite literally my coping mechanism over the summer and I annoy everyone I know by constantly banging on pots and pans and screaming about her. There was the way this universe spiraled outwards from its original installment and now has three generations, two sequels, and a prequel in progress (Hina’s origin story, which I am writing for a friend but will most likely never post). There were the friends I made because of this series and all of the inside jokes and headcanons we’ve developed while discussing it. There were all of the existential crises I had (over negative comments, over whether or not this career-defining series is even decent, over the moral implications of writing about people getting stabbed in the sequel...please don’t ask). There is the fact that everyone I come into contact with now knows what Haang is, and that by a close-reading of any passage about Hina or Kya, you could probably learn a lot about me. 

But all I can say, in the end, is that I don’t know if I’ve ever written something that I fell in love with so quickly as I did “The Waiting Game,” or that had as much lasting impact upon me. (It has been five months, and I’m STILL writing in this universe, still talking about it constantly.) I know my TWG obsession is a little annoying, and I know that this universe isn’t really anything special - but it’s special to me, and it always will be. Will I shut up? Abso-freaking-lutely not. Do I care if no one knows what my username means because it refers to an OC in a fic not a lot of people actually like? Not in the slightest! I won’t pretend that TWG is a perfect story, or even that it deserves to be thought of as particularly good, but I will absolutely defy anyone who tells me that I need to “get over it.” (No one has, but my brain likes to tell me that everyone is thinking it.) 

I will never be over stories that move me, especially not ones I created.

And especially not Yangchen Oyama. 

~finis~ 

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 5

The Lip Sync Battle 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: Growing tensions between you and Chris overflow in the most musical of battles.

Warnings: Profanity, drunken silliness

Notes: Oh my fucking gosh, I fucking finished it! This part was a BEAST to write! It’s hella long so it’ll be in two posts. Before you dive in, set the mood with the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part! Read the previous part here.

“How about this one?”

“No, not neon enough!”

“Ok…” you hold up another top option, “this one?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Alright. This?“

“Uh—”

“Uggggghhhhh!!!” It’s been 45 minutes of trying to decide on an outfit and your patience is running thin. “I’m this close,” you put up a microscopic amount of space between your pointer finger and thumb, “THIS CLOSE to leaving in my pajamas. Don’t think I won’t do it!”

Your older sister, Lynn, laughs at your dramatics from her spot on the end of your bed in her guestroom. “Oooo won’t the paps love that! I just want to make sure you slay tonight! You never know what Hottie McDotties might be in there…”

You scoff, “I’m trying to be low key tonight and not draw any attention to myself. Tonight is not about me.” You look over to your sister who is distractedly sorting through the pile of clothes that’s accumulated on the bed. “Do you hear me?” 

“I hear what you're saying… I just don’t care. Now c’mon, let’s find you something sexy! I know we’re close!” You and Lynn turn back to your almost empty closet one last time. “What about that furry, hot pink thing?”

“Oh, you mean the jacket I impulse bought with the birthday boy?” You laugh thinking back to that day. It was the day you first met Scott before filming. We were only supposed to go out for lunch, and damn near bought out the whole plaza!

“Yeah, that one! That could be cute.”

“With my black, skin tight leather pants…”

“Your black, sheer and lacy corset top…”

“And the black knee highs to top it off!” You two say simultaneously making you giggle like school girls. You settle into a comfortable silence as you pull out the pieces of your outfit.

“I missed this— these moments with you, big sis. Laughing, being silly— “

“Talking about boys,” she finishes for you. You roll your eyes, but smile in agreement as Lynn continues. “Me too… god, why’d we both have to be successful?” she says mockingly, making you both laugh again. 

“Honestly, the real question is why'd you have to move to Boston?” You asked a lot less like an inquiring adult and more like a pouting toddler. 

It’s Lynn’s turn to roll her eyes as she sighs deeply. “You sound like dad.”  

“You’ve got some nerve,” she starts in a playful tone. “You’re literally the one who is never in one city for more than a day. You being here for these months is unprecedented.” It’s true; your touring schedule made it where you’d been any- and everywhere, except with family as of late.

“Now who sounds like dad.” 

“Sorry, but you opened yourself up for it!”

You huff out a sigh, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Lynn hopped up from the bed and headed for the door, “Uh-huh. I’m gonna warm up the car. Be down in 20.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“I wasn’t asking. I was instructing.”

“And I oop— she said she’s being a big sister tonight!” you laughed out as you turned around to start getting dressed, hair and makeup already done. Lynn began to leave the room, rolling her eyes at you not taking her seriously. 

Suddenly, you were met with a pillow to the back of your head. “What the hell!” The sound of your sister running down the hall and laughing maniacally fill the house. “Hey! Not the curls!” you yelled after her, closing the door.

Just then your phone vibrated with a FaceTime call. You went over to it on the dresser and tapped the screen to answer, the view fixed on the ceiling. The screen filled with a visibly excited Scott, his face a little red from excitement, face a little sweaty from dancing. There was music and loud chatter on his end. Shit! He’s already there! I’m late! “Heeelllooooo? Anybody there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you peek one eye into the frame, “I’m getting dressed. What’s up?”

“What’s up is that everybody is here, and you are not,” he tapped his camera for emphasis. 

“I’ll be there soon. Beauty takes time, ya know!” Each sarcastic word accented with a huff and jump to get in your tight pants. “Whew!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott’s eyes peered with genuine curiosity as he sipped a fruity drink.

“I already told you I’m getting dressed.”

“It takes all of that?”

“Listen, as the great philosopher Beyoncé once said, ‘if you don't jump to put jeans on, baby, you don't feel my pain!’ Ok?”

Scott laughed, “OK, yes ma’am!”

“So… who all is there?” Scott knows just what you're asking; if Chris is there. 

Chosing to play dumb and not give you defenitive answer, Scott asks. “Is there anybody in particular you’re looking forward to seeing?”

“More like who I’m not looking forward to seeing…” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” You said for a quick cover, Scott giving you a knowing look. “You know I’m looking forward to seeing your ‘Ma’; I love that y’all call her that. It’s so New England!”

Scott chuckles, “She’s looking forward to seeing you too. She calls you her ‘lovely lunch buddy’.” Being close with Scott on set meant that you’d gotten to meet his mom. She’d taken a liking to you after joining you and Scott for lunch one day, and started joining you as often as she could.  

“Awwww, she’s too sweet! I’m gonna let you go now; I gotta finish getting cute for her.”

“Only her?” Scott said with a smirk. Please… Chris could kiss my a—

“Only her. I’ll see you later Scott, and happy birthday for the gazillionth time!”

“Thanks love, see you later!”

With one last fluff of your fro, pop of your lipstick, and once over in the mirror, and you felt ready. Collecting your phone and bag, you headed out for the night.

——————————————————————————

“Sooo....” Lynn turned the down the music as she drove. “How do you feel about possibly seeing you-know-who tonight?” The eyeroll and groan that escaped you were almost involuntary. “What?! It wouldn’t be far fetched; it IS his brother’s birthday.”

“I know, but… do we have to talk about him? I just wanna have a good time tonight,” you whined, throwing your head back on your seat.

“You already know the answer to that.” You let out a long sigh. You hadn’t seen Chris since your game night tell-off a few weeks back, and as much as you tried to forget about him and how you lost your cool, not talking about it was starting to gnaw at you, especially knowing it was only a matter of time before you saw him again. “So, how are we feeling?”

“I…” you took a breath, “I can’t help but feel annoyed! Like, sure I ignored his apology attempts, but he’s the one that passed unfounded judgments on ME. How the hell does that make me a diva? God I hate that word! You know how that word just triggers me,” Lynn nods in response, letting you continue. “And you know what's the most annoying part of it all?”

‘What?”

“Mackie and Scott talk about him incessantly. How smart he is, how caring he is, how fun he is. I mean, I saw it, when we met in New York. But I haven't seen it since. We’re their friends, so I get what they're trying to do, but at some point, like, give it up. It’s obviously not working, nor will it ever.” You let out a sound of frustration, “I don’t know what to do. Do I keep it to myself for the sake of our mutual friendships, or—”

“Be the diva he thinks you are?” You know Lynn is joking, but that’s not a bad idea… I mean, he already thinks it of me, might as well have some fun with it…  Lynn looks over to see you mischievously smiling into the Boston night and she begins to fear for the idea she’s just given you. “Oh God,” she mutters.

You look at her with a goofy grin and shrug. “What?” you try to say innocently.

“C’mon! Don’t actually consider that! Look, you weren’t expecting to see him last time, and that’s probably why it didn’t go so well. But now that you are, you can show up as the composed, level-headed woman I know is somewhere in that thick, thick skull of yours.” You give her no indication that you’ll heed her advice and she can tell. “Fine, just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she half laughs out.

The car comes to a stop in front of the venue and you check the time. 30 minutes after the invitation time, not TOO bad. You arrived at Majesty’s, a unique, swanky lounge in a trendy area of Boston you’ve never been before. I’ll have to come back and explore sometime. You lean over to give your sister a quick hug, thanking her for dropping you off, then briskly make for the curbside entrance, needing to escape the nippy Boston air. 

Once inside, you’re warmed by neon lights that illuminate the otherwise dim room. To your right is a full-service bar with a plethora of drink options on the wall behind it. Tables staggered up the middle of the room lead to a medium sized dancefloor just before a stage. Velvet curtains hang at the back wall behind a neon sign of the venue's logo. The place is packed. It is Saturday night after all. Music and conversation buzz around you as you scan the room looking for your friends.

“Hi there!” a cheery hostess approaches, her face beat to the gods, making you wish you’d opted for more makeup yourself. “Here with Scott Evans’ party?”

“Yeah! How’d you know?” She gives you a weird look, as if to say, ‘you're joking, right?’. It dawns on you that she knows who you are, hence why she knows who you’re here to see.

“Right…” It’ll be awhile before I get used to people recognizing me.

“HeeeEEeey!! There she is!” You hear Mackie’s voice but aren’t sure where it’s coming from. The hostess points up to a balcony where Mackie is hanging over the railing, flailing his arms to get your attention. 

The hostess escorts you to your party, leading you through the tables on the main floor. The walk there is spent with her talking about how “tonight is like the Oscars” because she’s “never seen so many big stars in one place” but she assures you she “isn’t a creepy fan” and that there’s a no recording policy for guests’ privacy. You smile and nod politely, but you’re not fully listening to her. You’re too in your head wondering if one of those “big stars” is Chris. You’re led up a staircase near the dancefloor that takes you to a roped off VIP balcony area where you can overlook the entire venue.

You give hello’s to the people in the section; some you know from set, but most are Scott’s longtime friends you’ve never met. Feeling a bit shy, you look for a familiar face when Mackie pulls you into a bear hug. “How ya doing, Kid? I’m glad you came out tonight!” You could be reading too far into it, but it feels like he means ‘glad you came despite the possibility Chris will be here.’ You suppress your urge to give a look of disdain and just smile and avert your gaze around the section. You notice that Chris isn’t there, or at least not yet, and you’re not sure if that makes you uneasy or not. Relax girl.

You still haven’t decided on what your disposition towards Chris will be tonight, but needed to choose quickly to get in the right headspace. Before you could process what was happening, you were whisked up into a hug by Lisa. Shit. I can’t be salty to him with his mother here. She’s so sweet. Ugh, guess it’s decided.

“How’s my lovely lunch buddy doing?” she asks with a genuine smile and kind eyes. 

You chuckle at the title she’s given you. “I’m doing great! How are you?”

“Better now that you’re here! Now we can get this party started!” She does a “raise the roof” motion with her hands as she bobs her head causing you to raise your brows. It would be a sure way to embarrass her children, but just makes you laugh. “I should stop before the birthday boy kicks me out,” she laughs out.

“Where is Scott by the way?”

“Oh, he should be around here somewhere...” she scans the section, squinting her eyes with her index finger tapping her upper lip. “There he is!” she points to a corner on the other side. You follow her finger to see a glittery Scott, adorned in a birthday hat and sash. He’s in conversation with a brown-haired woman, the pair laughing and slapping their knees.

As you approach, you notice someone else on the velvet cushion with them, but not at all in the conversation. Sat next to them is Chris, eyes fixed on you, expression blank. It was a matter of time. You tense up, clenching your jaw and holding his gaze.

When you reach them, you embrace Scott. “You look great!” he compliments your outfit and you give a couple poses to show it off.

“Thanks, it’s just a lil somethin’, somethin’ I threw together! Remember this jacket?”

“Yeah! You blew, what? Like, eight hun—”

“Shhh…” you stop him before he could blow up your spot, “Let’s not talk about it. Not the best show of my judgement.” Everyone laughs, except Chris who just scoffs and shakes his head unamused, making your laughter dissipate. 

“We all have those moments of weakness. Hi, I’m Shanna,” she greets with a handshake.

“Yes, she is my youngest, and this is my other son Chris. Chris honey, this is—“

“We’ve met, Ma,” he offers a fake but polite smile, one you just know he wouldn’t have if his mother wasn’t right there.

“Oh, really? When?” There’s a beat of silence that’s only uncomfortable for you and Chris as you both go through your brief, sordid history silently.

“At an industry thing not too long ago,” you offer, not meeting Chris’ eyes.

“Of course, I often forget that that world is even smaller than the real world,” Lisa chuckles. “I hope he was on his best behavior!” Chris looks up at you in panic, a look that says you wouldn’t rat me out to my mom, would you? You know she’s only joking, but the opportunity is too good to pass up on.

“Well, actually,’ you turn to Lisa as she looks at you quizzically, “He’s quite the rascal on the dancefloor; get a couple of Stella’s in him, could out dance the Rockettes!” the group laughs heartily, clearly knowing the truth of your words. Chris laughs nervously but is slightly relieved you didn’t reveal the truth of his behavior towards you since you two met. “But he’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman,” you say, looking at Chris with a facetious smile. He’s clenching his teeth into a pained smile himself.

“Really?” Scott says, ready to call you on your BS, “‘cos game night was kinda… intense. Or am I remembering it wrong?”

“Well, a little trash talk never hurt anybody,” Chris states while sipping his drink. And just like that, a silent pact was made between the two of you; to be cordial for the sake of all involved. Maybe there’s no need for the diva disposition after all…

“Right…” Scott is unconvinced, but is too in party mode to press on. Turning to you now, Scott asks, “How’s the soundtrack stuff coming along?”

“So great! I actually just got the final mix for the song I did with Miguel in New York, and I gotta say, it smells like a hit!”

“Oooo! And I bet it is! You’re literally a hit machine, am I right?” Shanna hits Chris’ arm seeking endorsement from him. He just raises his brows and shrugs as if to say, ‘yeah, sure, whatever’.

Scott isn’t amused by his brother’s disinterest. “Oh, don’t act so unimpressed! She’s literally an award-winning artist! Just the other day, you were literally—”

“Ok, Scott, that’s.... sheesh,” Chris interrupts what sounds like would’ve been a great story. “It’s not that, just that I don’t believe in creating to get awards; I believe you should create for the love of it.”

“I agree,” you chime in. “Even though I put my art out into the world for consumption, it doesn’t make or break me if others applaud it or not. What’s most important is that I do.”

“But you gotta admit it feels good,” Shanna taunts with a grin.

“Sure... but, I don't know… I love what I do so much, I'd do it even  if no one gave a damn. Hell, I have for years! Only recently the recognition started rolling in. And, not to sound self-loathing or anything, but it’s been… a challenge dealing with it all. I kinda miss the days when nobody knew my name.”

Lisa nudges Chris with her elbow, “She sounds like you.” He was thinking the same thing. “How’s filming going? You guys are on Harvard campus, right?”

“Mostly, yeah. It’s kinda funny being back at a college. I kinda forgot what it was like, but memories of those years have just been flooding back.”

“All those fond memories of studying coming back to ya, huh?” Chris digs. Walked into that one. 

Before you could form a petty rebuttal, Mackie called Chris over. Soon after, Shanna and Lisa excuse themselves, leaving you and Scott in the corner. 

Scott checked his phone for the time, “Ooo it’s almost time for my performance!”

“Performance?”

“Yeah there’s lip syncing!”

“Lip syncing? Not karaoke?”

“I asked that too. Apparently the owner was tired of hearing drunk people screech and butcher songs.”

“Understandable. What are you gonna perform?”

“I’m thinking ‘Birthday’ by Selena Gomez, but then there’s also ‘Birthday’ by Katy Perry, so I’m torn.”

“Both great choices! And I’m fully prepared to join you for either, do a little back up, whatever you need.”

“Uh-uh, nope.”

“Whaa— why not?” you put your hands on your hips.

“Because you’re a professional performer. You will get up there and literally intimidate anyone else from giving it a try and having some fun.” A pout was all you could muster as a response. “Oh don’t look at me like that! You know it’s true. Take a backseat tonight, ok?”

“Fine, whatever.” It wasn’t fine, but you did want to keep a low profile tonight. Performing would be the exact opposite of that.

“Thanks, love!” Scott gave you a hug, which you didn’t reciprocate out of feigned annoyance. “So, what the hell was that? With you and Chris?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, hoping he’d drop it.

“Well, I know that you two had some... words, and you’re not super fond of him even though you won’t say it out loud, and—” he paused to collect his confusion. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. Tonight isn’t about you two acting hella weird towards each other. Tonight is about my favorite people coming together and enjoying being around each other. Even if they’re faking it.”

“Yes, exactly!” relieved you don’t have to talk about it any further.

“Wanna know something?” You slightly raise your brows. “The other day, I caught Chris not just listening, but dancing to your music. I mean full on rocking out to it!” Scott laughs.

Your face heats up at the thought, but you play it off like you don’t care. “So?”

“So, you’ve obviously been on his mind. And if I know my brother, I think he wants to make things right but doesn’t know how. He may just be nervous.” You just sigh and look over to Chris and Mackie across the way, roughhousing one another and laughing. If he was nervous, it’s not like you made it any easier with your actions toward him. “He’s a good man. Silly, and sometimes stupid, but good nonetheless.” Maybe we did just get off on the wrong foot…

Some of Scott’s other friends pull him into conversation, and you make your way to the bar to get some libations to sort out your thoughts.

——————————————————————————

“And that’s when I said ‘Sis, what are you doing?’” The group crowded around drinks laughed at Jaden’s story from set, something about how you got stuck under some bleachers or something. Chris wasn’t listening. He’d long tuned out the cringey storyteller. Instead, his attention was with where you were with his mother across the way, deep in conversation. 

You sat with your legs crossed, hands moving around animatedly. Chris looks you up from the heels of your knee highs, to your shiny leather clad thighs, your lacy corset that leaves just enough to the imagination and shows off your collar bone, any man’s subconscious weakness. Goddamn.

“Careful of those wandering eyes,” Chris turned to see Mackie handing him one of the two beers in his hands.

“I don’t remember asking for this.”

“It’s to quench your obvious thirst.” Mackie motions his head in the direction Chris had been staring for the past 15 minutes; in your direction.

Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m not ‘thirsting’ over her,” he takes a sip of the drink, “and I think you’ve been hanging out with those kids on set a little too much.”

“Maybe,” Mackie chuckles, taking a sip himself, “but you know I’m not wrong.”

“She’s not even my type.”

“‘Your type?’ Since when do you have a type?”

“I have a type,” Chris tries to defend himself. “Kind, humorous, humble…”

“She’s literally all of those things!” Chris just offers him a side-eye in response. “Look, I don’t know what happened between New York and now—”

“Cos nothing really happened! So what, we had a good time when we hung out once. Means nothing. Not to me, and obviously not to her.”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth my man.” Chris looks from Mackie to you. “She’ll surprise you if you let her.” I hoped she would.

——————————————————————————

“Ladies and gentleman!” A loud voice, booms from the PA system, commanding everyone’s attention. You, Lisa, and everyone in your section approach the railing to look down to the stage where a spotlight had been cast on the speaker. “Here at Majesty’s, we don’t karaoke. We don’t want to hear you drunk motherfuckers screech!” The crowd erupts in laughter, but you look over to Lisa to see if the language offended her. She doesn’t seem to mind as she’s laughing along with ever else.

“At Majesty’s,” the speaker walks around dramatically motioning their hands like a magician's assistant, “We perform, we put on a show, we lip sync like you’ve never seen before!” There’s a chorus of claps, cheers, and ‘yass queen’s. 

“We have a special birthday performance by the birthday boy himself! Everybody give it up for Scott Evans!!!” Your section filled with Scott’s friends and family go crazy cheering him on. I wonder what song he decided on. 

Come and put cha name on it, put cha name on it

Come and put cha name on it, ya name

Don't chu wanna put ya name on it, put cha name on it

Come and put cha name on it, bay-bay-bay-bay-uh

“Oh my goodness! He would!” Scott surprised everyone with ‘Birthday Cake’ by Rihanna, and you have to say, he did it justice. Ansel and Jaden are his back up, twerking and being silly hype men. You look around to see everyone in hysterics and cheering, enjoying the clownery and having a good time. 

In your scan of the section, you notice Chris standing beside you. You admire his profile; the way his eyes scrunch up when he smiles genuinely, the lucious length of his lashes, the sharp angle of his nose, the slack of his jaw when he brings his beer to his plump lips. Before he poured the liquid in his mouth, he looked at you from the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth quirking up around the neck of the bottle. You whip your head back to the stage below, kicking yourself for getting caught. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, but his cheeks take on a slight rosy hue.

When Scott’s performance is over, everyone cheers and claps for the guest of honor, who takes his center stage bow and makes his way back to the section.

You and Chris look at one another, both of you mid smile, gazing at each other. Your smiles fade and you clear your throat, readying yourself to speak, although unsure of what to say.

“That was...”

“Yeah, it was…”

“Cool…”

“Entertaining even…”

“Uh huh.”

“Yep.”

You both stand there awkwardly. You’re looking everywhere but at Chris, while Chris is rocking back and forth on his heels, swinging his hands in front then behind himself.

“What a riveting conversation we’re having,” you joke, hoping to loosen up the tension.

It seems to work because Chris breathes out a light laugh before testing some humor himself. “Going better than our last conversation, that’s for sure.” He peeks at your expression tentatively to see if the joke landed, and it seems so by the small smile you offer him.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,” is all you could think to say. A lull enters your exchange again, but this time it feels a little less rigid, but still not comfortable or cozy. You both have the same idea to interrupt the quiet with a start of a sentence, then share a laugh for simultaneously speaking.

“Ladies first,” he says.

“No, you can. I don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Well, if we were thinking the same thing, you were probably gonna start with ‘I’m sorry…’,” he punctuated with a smile. 

You, however, are not smiling. Your face is contorted in complete confusion. “What exactly should I be apologizing for?”

Now Chris is confused. Your face and your tone say that you are serious. He’s searching your face for any sign of humor, and when he doesn’t find any, says, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe for acting all high and mighty like you’re too good for a peace offering?”

“There wouldn’t need to be a peace offering if you weren’t judgemental in the first place!”

“Maybe, but my judgments weren’t wrong. You parade around like you’re queen of everything!” You glare at him as he continues his tangent.  “‘OOooooOoO look at me, I’ve won a bunch of statues for my poppy-pop songs and spend my money on fufu jackets, but also don’t look at me cos I’m kinda awkward and might turn to putty at any given second.’” He mocks you in a high pitched, “woman” voice. 

You scoff at his foolery and to feel enraged by his stupidly silly drunken display. “First of all, I do not talk like that!”

“Yeah, ok.”

“And secondly, I’m not about to apologize for being proud of my accomplishments that I worked really fucking hard to achieve. I’m not afraid to clap for my damn self. We can’t all be overly-humble and self deprecating and blessed with the ability to be great with everybody. I refuse to shrink myself for anyone any longer!”

‘Any longer’? What’s she mean by that? Chris’ expression softens, as does yours. You’ve realized that you've once again been brought out your box, by a practical stranger no less. The two of you share similar expressions; anger tinged with a bit of hurt. Before either of you could say anything else, not that either of you wanted to, a commotion coming toward the two of you takes your attention away from the heated moment.

Scott is making his rounds through the section, receiving celebratory high fives, kisses, and smacks on the ass. “That was incredible dear!” Lisa punctuated with kisses all over her his face, causing you to laugh at the affection she showed her grown son.

“Ok, ok, thanks Ma!” Scott said, removing his mother’s hands from either side of her face. As he proceeded to wipe off the lipstick from his face, he turned to Chris. “Bro, are you gonna go up there?”

“Nah, just gonna hang back tonight,” Chris says, sounding defeated.

“What? Why? You love karaoke!”

“This isn’t karaoke. Besides, I’m not really feeling it tonight.” That sounds a lot like what you told him as an excuse to leave the game night. You felt like he was baiting you. To bite or not to bite? That is the question. After some intense and uncomfortable pouting from Scott, Chris caved. “Maybe, and that’s a hard maybe!” Chris slurred and gesticulated as he said so.

Satisfied and then distracted, Scott wandered off to his other party guests, his mother following closely behind him. You, however, feeling particularly petty, were not satisfied with his answer. “Too cool for this, are you?” You instigate.

Chris scoffs and swigs his beer, eyes fixed ahead. “Why don’t you go up there? You’re supposedly a big shot rockstar,” you roll your eyes at the title, “and I’ve yet to see what you can do.” A lie, but only he knows that.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I would, but I’ve been told I can’t because I’m a ‘professional’ and will ‘intimidate’ others from having fun, so, whatever…” you say, mocking Scott’s request.

“Yep… sounds about right.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” The liquor made you bold, but Chris barely bats an eye at your brutish behavior. He only winks and walks away. You find yourself trying to manage the butterflies that arise at his slight act, the fluttering cutting through your irritation. What the hell body! We’re not supposed to feel this way towards him!

As you watch Chris disappear down the stairs, there’s a hand on your shoulder that you harshly shrug out of. You turn around to face the offender, but soften at the confused face you meet. “Oh, Lisa. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. Not unless you’ve got eyes in the back of your head,” she chuckles. “Are you ok, darling? You look… pissed.”

You lightly laugh, “Yeah… no… I mean yes, I’m fine.”

Lisa looks at you with an eyebrow raised, unconvinced. “Uh huh… I won’t push only because it’s a party, but I want you to know you can tell me anything that troubles you.” Even if it’s your son? You nod, knowing she’s sincere. “So, Scott said that you all are free on Monday.”

“Yep, first full free day in a while!”

“Great! Well, I wanted to invite you to the art museum with me on Monday. There’s a new exhibit opening up and seniors and friends get a special viewing. What do ya say?”

“Aw, I’d love to, Lisa! What’s the—“

“Guys, gals, and non-binary pals! May I have your attention again!” Everyone returns to the railing to look at the host on the stage downstairs. “Our next performer is somewhat unsuspecting, however, a Boston boy through and through. Says he’s a huge fan of the Patriots,” there’s some “woops” for the home team, “and a big fan of singing some Billy Joel…”

“No, he’s not!” you look at Lisa confusedly, as she covers her mouth.

“Who’s not?”

“…and goes by the name of ‘Sassy Cevans’…” the host continues.

“Oh yes he is!” Scott says from your left, inexplicably giddy.

“WHO IS?!” Your question has yet to be answered as the song's guitar riff ripples through the venue. The performer explodes onto the stage, back to the crowd, air strumming along. They turn around as the first lyrics come in and your question is answered, but now you have so, so many more. What in the hell??

Part 5 cont.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

TLC

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Hideyoshi Toyotomi x Naiya (female OC) x Masamune Date

Word count: 4,507

Warning: Pampering, Fluff and sprinkle of spice.

Written by: darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts

Tagging @umbralaperture​ for this commissioned piece.

Masterlist 

---

TLC

This was getting beyond a joke. Every breath was agony, something clawing at her throat and pulling on her lungs like they were a set of bagpipes. Lack of oxygen meant every minor ache and pain suddenly sparked throughout her body a thousand times worse.

She tried to move only to be hit with a blinding pressure pain buried somewhere behind her eyes making her wonder who planted an axe there. Sleep was desired and never came. Endless exhaustion added to the melee of things that now just made up a list as long as she was tall for what was wrong.

Duvets, blankets and pillows clung around her like a nest. Somehow, she had managed to crawl into bed. Medication hadn’t worked the way it should, it hadn’t worked at all. She groaned against the faint light creeping into the bedroom from the curtains and became aware of something loud enough to shake the gates of Hell.

“Ugh… not now.” She grumbled and tried to bunch the pillows up around her ears but the hammering didn’t stop. “Fine, not like I can sleep anyway.”

She peeled back the layers of comfort and dragged her body as close to vertical as she could muster. Using the wall to steady herself, as well as any furniture along the way, she slowly made it to the front door. Her fingers fumbled against the lock. The bolt slid back and the door cracked open.

“This had better be good. I put off dying to be here.” Before she could even focus on who had come to call on her, the door was pushed wide. A set of strong arms wrapped her up in a bone-crushing hug driving what little air she had in her body out along with her ability to stand under her own strength. “Oof!”

“Naiya! Thank god you answered I was this close to kicking in the door.” The familiar comforting voice of one of her usually level-headed boyfriends sounded muffled from her position against his broad chest.

“Yoshi mate, you might want to ease up on the whole bear hug before you really have a need to worry.” Masa reached out with one hand ruffling her hair as he reminded Hideyoshi of a human’s requirement to breathe. “Sorry Lass. I brought food.”

Masa held up two bags he had in his free hand giving them a light shake before brushing past her and Hideyoshi to get into the house.

“I can see that. I thought you guys had a key for here anyway?” She couldn’t really focus on what was happening but was really trying to follow along.

“We do but someone left it in the bowl back at ours.” Masa called out from the kitchen. She could hear the bags being emptied along with the thud and clink of produce being laid out on the counter.

“If you hadn't distracted me before we left, I wouldn’t have forgotten to grab it from the bowl in the first place.” Hideyoshi grumbled his arms releasing their tight hold as he chided Masa.

“How was I distracting you? I was trying to think of things to get from the store on the way over. It was your idea to get the key bowl anyway.” Masa appeared again a teasing grin on his face before changing his voice to give his best impersonation of Hideyoshi. “Can’t just have keys hanging around we need some order in the place.”

“You kept asking if I thought today was a cheat day or not. And I do not sound like that!” Hideyoshi sounded exasperated and a little embarrassed. He was normally the reliable one so forgetting something like the key to their girlfriend’s house proved he was worried.

“Well, it makes a difference to Kitten.” Masa chirped back.

“Hey guys as much as I enjoy the Saturday night live experience, I’m just gonna let you do your things and crawl back into my pit.” She tried to remove herself from the loud, all be it amusing, interaction. It was taking a lot more strength than first imagined to remain upright and she didn’t want to worry them anymore.

“Hold up.” Hideyoshi reached out and grabbed her as she swayed on her feet. Apparently urging herself to try to move forward had failed. His attention left Masa and was now completely focused on her. One of his large hands swept back her bangs as he inspected her. “I knew it, you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick. I am perfectly healthy for a bag of infested, cursed… you know what? I can’t even be bothered finishing that.” Hideyoshi’s hand felt cool against her face which was enough to tell her she was probably running a slight temperature. Great if there was one thing I don’t need right now; it’s my whole system shutting down with some weird bug.

Naiya silently hoped that whatever was happening was just a result of her failed meds. A nasty side effect from inhalers or something not clearing her airways.

“You really look pale, Lass.” Masa came to join them. His piercing blue eye peered out from under his hair and began to rove over every inch of exposed skin she had.

Hideyoshi’s inspection was one thing. It made you feel like you were being wrapped up as he softly moved over you. Masa’s inspection was just as caring but wilder in its execution. If one man was good at making her feel bound, the other was good at making her feel exposed. Between one kind of smothering and the other, it was impossible to hide anything from these two.

“You haven’t been looking after yourself, have you? I told you not to work too hard.” Hideyoshi huffed, the furrow of his brow becoming deeper as if he were the one suffering a splitting headache and not her.

Sensing the start of one of the dreaded lectures on observing better self-care Naiya wriggled in Hideyoshi’s grip freeing herself. She then attempted to sidestep Masa who had moved in a pincer movement to keep her in place without touching.

“It’s not a question of working too hard Yoshi. Its allergy season and my damn meds are useless. With everything going on I can’t go into work, I got told to rest.” In her flurry of explanations designed to defend herself, she could feel whatever little energy she had failing her with every word.

The room felt like it was spinning and she ended up finding herself steadied with a strong arm from Masa as he wrapped it around her waist.

“So naturally you didn’t.” Masamune was still smiling but she could tell by his tone even he was concerned. His gaze really was stripping away at her masks. As fast as she put one in place, he was there to remove it piece by piece.

“Hey what is this gang up on the sick person?” She batted at Masa’s chest that was ever so slightly visible under his black shirt. In a moment of clearer breathing, the smell of his own natural scent mixed with the spices and soap he used at work hit her stronger than they normally would.

“You just said you weren’t sick.” Hideyoshi pointed out the flaw in her exasperated argument.

“I’m changing my mind if it means I got two fussing mother types crowding me.” She didn’t so much manage to break free of Masa’s grip as he backed her up against the sofa and allowed gravity to work its magic. Her legs gave out with very little effort and she bounced on the cushioned seating feeling the lurch of her body reacting in a sickening wake up call.

“Right here’s how its gonna work Kitten.” Masa said as he crouched down at her side and held her hand. Making sure she was focused on what he was about to say before continuing. “I’m gonna go in the kitchen and cook dinner for three. You are gonna eat however much of it you can and I’ll turn the leftovers into meals you can eat over the next few days. I’ll even make a big pot of chicken soup for you.”

“With dumplings?” She knew she sounded like a child right now but dammit if someone else cooking meals for her and preparing them so she just had to reheat them later didn’t sound like a slice of Heaven.

“Sure, with dumplings if that’s what you want.” Masamune chuckled and began to ruffle up her hair. She hated to think how bad it looked but it felt nice to feel his touch.

“While that is happening. I’m going to run you a nice refreshing bath and you will soak in there while I tidy up a bit.” Hideyoshi said as he bent down to pick something up off the floor and she could already tell from the way he was looking around the room that he was silently appraising the lack of housekeeping.

“Hey just so you know I haven’t been home much and—”

“You said you weren’t going into work!” Hideyoshi pivoted on the spot, discarded magazines and papers in hand making him look like he had begun to sprout wings.

“Oops.” She became defensive and inadvertently put her foot right in it.

“Don’t ‘Oops’ me, Madam. I was right to be worried about you. When we hadn’t heard from you in the last couple of days I just knew --.”

“Hahaha, you tell her Bud.” Masa applauded with a slow clap as he laughed.

Masa had been practically vibrating attempting to hold back the laughter while watching Hideyoshi as he flapped around. It didn’t take a genius to work out why. The papers in his arms really did look like feathers when he moved.

“Masa you are not helpful.” Naiya was struggling to hold back a fit of giggles as well. His laughter was contagious and it didn’t help that Hideyoshi seemed to have transformed into the mother hen he was always teased of being.

“Little kittens that are as weak as you at the minute can’t complain. Now go along with Yoshi and his mothering while I go sort out food. I’ll even help with the housework while it's heating up.” Masa dragged her forward on the sofa so he could plant a loud kiss on her forehead before leaving the room again to vanish into the kitchen.

“Fine.”

*

It took the entire time the bath was running for Hideyoshi to finally calm down enough to take in what had been happening without butting in with ‘I told you so’ or ‘Why didn’t you call me?’. He checked the meds she had taken and called someone who sounded grumpy enough to be Ieyasu.

Steam, taking time out and sleep. That was what he ordered alongside the bath to get cleaned up and generally try to relax in. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already heard from others and sleep was harder to come by than they all made it sound. Logically she knew they were right, if she could sleep some of what she felt would clear but her lungs we against it.

The water was just the right temperature with clusters of candles lit around the bathroom and fragrant bubbles popping against her skin. Too bad her nose was so blocked in the humid atmosphere she couldn’t really enjoy the whole sensory experience.

Laying there submerged in the hot water she heard the two men moving around her home. She wasn’t worried they were both so good at domestic stuff it put her to shame more often than not. She was only feeling guilty that she had caused them to worry so much.

As she breathed in and out, she willed her lungs to stop that rasping rattle she had come to associate with trying to live. Asthma, allergies… what were you supposed to do if most of the environment you lived it was hell-bent on killing you?

After about 10 minutes soaking it felt like some humanity had started to return to her. She wasn’t magically fixed but the warmth of the water had managed to regulate her own internal thermostat and she was at least a normal temperature again.

She slipped down so her shoulders went under the waterline and tilted her head back to get her hair wet. While her head was under the water, her ears picked up a muffled noise and pulled herself up just in time to see a panicked Hideyoshi rushing to her side from the now open bathroom door.

“Naiya, are you alright? I knew I shouldn’t have left you for so long in the bath when you are not well.” His hands brushed back her wet hair from her face and she was thankful for the bubbles in the tub giving her a veil of decency.

“I’m fine. I was just getting my hair wet.”

As she scrambled to grab the bottle of shampoo it was plucked from her wet grip.

“I’ll wash it for you.” Hideyoshi didn’t sound as if he were treating this like a chore. Still, it felt a little strange to have this happening and she found herself naturally trying to decline the offer.

“You don’t have too I’m fine.”

“You just gave me a mini heart attack. Let me.”

The cap popping open felt like it was echoing in the room. She watched the viscous liquid pour from the bottle and coat his hands.  His hands softly covered the crown of her head and she closed her eyes against the heavenly sensation of his fingers working in circles and patterns over her scalp. The sound of foam squelched near her ears sending a tingle up her spine.

Callused fingers, softened by the warm water, brushed softly over the shell of her ears. Following her hairline to her nape and then returning back up to the crown again. He lightly rinsed his hands in the water before easing her lower, carefully supporting her head on one arm as he rinsed her hair free of the soap with a small jug.

Naiya’s eyes opened to see her dreamy, blissed-out expression reflected in his soft caramel gaze.

“There now all better?” He asked while kneeling at the side of the bath. The last of the suds from her hair ran freely over his bare arms highlighting the lines of toned muscle.

“Y-yes.” She stuttered. She had been sure her temperature had returned to normal until her overactive imagination began to take over. Drawing lines and connections in a game of dot to dot with little encouragement that only served to fuel a fire in her cheeks.

“That’s my girl. I left your towels here but if you want, I can help you get out?” He got up and paused at the door waiting for her reply.

“No, I should be fine.” The bubbles in the bath were nearly depleted as they fought against the soap of the shampoo. She was becoming aware again of her own vulnerability.

“Ok. I’ll just be the other side of the door so don’t struggle if you can’t manage.” He was still worrying.

“I’m feeling a bit better I can…” She trailed off. Acting tough was not going to work when he had already seen her looking rough as hell. She forced herself to meet his eyes and nod. “Fine, I’ll call if I need you.”

“Good girl. Take your time.” Hideyoshi either didn’t notice the budding embarrassment or he was being too much of a gentleman to call her on it.

She was thankful to the bath for giving her skin an all-over flush, masking a lot of her give away blushing response to him. The door shut and she could hear Masamune shout up the stairs.

“Grubs up!”

*

She pushed herself a little too much to get dressed quickly so as not to keep them both waiting. When she returned downstairs. She was wheezing and trying to hide the fact she was once more in pain with her lungs rattling in her ears.

“Here Lass sit down before you fall down.” Masa joked but he was clearly trying to care for her without making it into a big thing.

Her back sunk into the sofa cushions as her eyes fell on the spread of food that was laid out on the coffee table. She hated her nose right now because if looks were anything to go by the food would have smelt divine.

“What is all this?”

“Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner… Supper.” Masa indicated all the different dishes like he was on a game show before giving a shrug as if to say it was all no big deal.

“If you were gonna cook all this why bother asking if today was a cheat day or not?” Hideyoshi came in carrying a big jug of water, slices of orange and lemon floating under a layer of ice. Placing it on a side table where some glasses were and took a seat next to her on the sofa.

“Hey, Cheat days are Cheat days only when you are healthy enough to be on a diet. When you are sick you should eat whatever you can and whatever you feel like so you can get strong again and continue to fight those pesky calorie demons.” Masa defended his cooking taking a seat on the other side of her.

“Haha, I like your logic there, Master Chef.” She giggled even more at Masa’s comments because of the huffy look that was now gracing Hideyoshi’s face. She shouldn’t take joy in him being put out but she didn’t have the energy to tell herself that.

“Why thank you.” Masa bumped shoulders with her grinning.

She once more found her mind wandering in a fog of fantasy as she registered the fact, she was the filling to this comforting boyfriend sandwich. As distractions from ill-health went it could have been a lot worse.

“However flawed it may be.” A tall tumbler of iced water appeared like a cold wedge between them as Hideyoshi passed out drinks.

“Yeah well, I’m sure the whole idea of wrapping Kitten up in bubble wrap thing is also a flawless plan.” Masa accepted the glass giving a teasing side-eye to the sandy-haired worrywart.

“Alright enough of that. Let’s eat before all this good stuff goes to waste eh?” Aware that something was about to kick off Naiya raised her voice to prevent Hideyoshi snapping back with what was no doubt going to be the start of something very witty that meant the friendly disagreement would continue till all the food was stone cold.

She regretted her words quickly as now both men had shut up and started a silent war. They pressed closer to her than necessary the feeling of being in a comfortable sandwich was becoming a distant memory. She wasn’t allowed to plate anything for herself and found her own dish filling up with bits of everything as the silent battle of caregiving continued.

Her body objected to the sudden influx of food and her stomach lurched. Eyes should not be allowed to pass judgement on what you put in your belly. As hungry as she had been it was also a while since she had eaten anything in this volume. She wanted to curse her upbringing for conditioning her to the fact that it was both rude to the cook and a waste of food to call it quits in the middle of a meal.

Sensing something was wrong with her both men stopped serving more of the dishes. Their intonations of ‘if you eat that you have to have this with it’ and ‘a balanced meal is important if you wish to get healthy’ died as they both exchanged glances over her.

“You alright Kitten?” Masa quietly asked his hand touching hers.

“Yeah.” Naiya nodded and regretted moving her head at all. She slipped her hand from Masa’s and without sparing the men a glance she left the room headed straight for the bathroom.

*

Naiya returned to the living room after freshening up. The harshness of the mint in the toothpaste felt a little sharp against her tongue but it was better than leaving things as they were.

The room had been completely cleared of any signs of the meal. Candles had been lit which meant the bright light from any lightbulbs was not going to cause her any issues. The DVD player had also been set up to play a movie.

All of the cushions had been dragged from the sofa to the floor making it look like a mattress had landed on the rug.  The coffee table was missing but it did look like all her blankets and duvet had been artfully arranged so her previous nest now looked like a luxurious retreat.

“You’re back.” Hideyoshi came in carrying two cups with Masa trailing close at his heels with a third cup of steaming liquid and a plate of something sweet.

“Here Lass try sipping this it will help.” The warmth of ginger spread through her mouth rounded out by calming honey. “Sorry kinda went a little far before.”

He didn’t avoid her eyes but the sincerity in his voice warmed her more than the drink.

“It’s fine I should have said no but I just couldn’t when everything was so good.”

“Careful there Kitten, you’re gonna start giving a fella ideas talking all seductive like.” Masa’s voice was a low purr against her ear, his wild chestnut brown hair brushed against her cheek igniting her blush further.

He brought one of the sweet treats from the plate to her mouth the softness of the dough melted against her tongue replacing the mint and ginger with a buttery sugar spice.

“Churros?”

“Masa we agreed.” Hideyoshi reprimanded.

Masa pulled back with a playful smile as he licked his own lips. He had a way of looking like a hungry predator ready to pounce and nothing seemed to trigger that more than watching her enjoying his food.  

“Yeah, Yeah. C’mere Kitten we got something special for you.” He took her by the hand leading her to the spread of cushions carefully taking her cup from her while she settled into position and then handed it back.

“You have a way of making things sound dirty even if they aren’t. I do wonder if you haven’t been hanging around a certain white-haired friend too long.” She smirked taking another sip of her drink.

Her spirited tease had a thrill that was short-lived. She could feel Hideyoshi move in behind her and sit on the frame of the cushionless sofa.  Her shoulders became encased in the space between his legs as he planted a foot either side of her.

Before she could ask what he was doing, his hands wrapped over her shoulders his fingers moving in circles. The flexing pressure of his grip as the heel of his hand came into play smoothing out the knots, he found almost had her drop her cup.

“Oops! Careful there Kitten, you are already sick you don’t want to get burnt on top of all that.”

The cup was once more liberated from her failing grip while soft sighs and little moans crept out of her mouth. Masa positioned himself at her feet taking one in his hands and began copying Hideyoshi’s movements as he focused on massaging her feet.

Every now and then her leg was raised just enough to let Masa’s fingers travel past the point of her ankle and find the tension trapped in her legs. Every time she felt the release of the stressful tension, he brought his lips to the spot and trailed kisses along it.

She gasped each time he did this. His upturned blue eye was dilated to the point of stormy and his chuckle left vibrations against her skin. The pressure on her shoulders and neck tightened in her response. Hideyoshi was not to be outdone or ignored at times like this. His gentleness could be torture when used correctly and this man was a master at that.

Hideyoshi’s hands slipped to her arms before moving back to her neck and travelling down her spine until they found that sweet spot in her lower back. The one that caused her to arch against his palm as her body reacted instinctively to the pleasure of his touch.

Attacked from two sides at once the little moans became louder as she felt her body begin to hum with affection being lavished on her. Tension, aches, pains they all seemed to melt right out of her as her body temperature rose to a comfortable heat.

They only stopped when she looked as if she were on the verge of breathlessness. It felt like she had just been the victim of a huge tease but it was clear that this was the line neither men were going to cross until she was stronger.

Her body became the filling once more in a boyfriend sandwich. Masa’s arm draped around her shoulders his hand landing on Hideyoshi’s shoulder where it began to play with the gap between his shirt and bare flesh. Hideyoshi cast a glance his way but said nothing to put an end to it.

Dropping her head onto Hideyoshi’s chest Naiya could hear his heartbeat pattering out a private salsa in his body. She smiled knowing that the two guys had made up after their silly little spat.

“Ready for the movie now Princess?” Hideyoshi clicked play on the remote and the opening sequence for Nightmare Before Christmas started.

“Oh my—you got me another copy!?” Naiya snapped back up between the two men eyes sparkling as she watched the screen.

Whether she knew it or not she was moving her body ever so slightly in time with the music which only made her boyfriends chuckle behind her.

“Couldn’t have you without your beloved movie, now could we?” Masa smiled as his hand was removed from Hideyoshi’s neck.

“If we couldn’t do at least this much we aren’t really living up to the title of your men, now are we?” Hideyoshi laced his fingers with Masa's, planting a biting kiss to the back of his hand before releasing it.

The teasing going on behind her did little to break her concentration on the movie. Each man reached out with one hand to drag her back down into the space between them.

Hideyoshi’s long legs stretched out on the cushions, his feet wrapping with Masamune’s while her shorter legs balanced over the top of both of them.

It wasn’t a miraculous cure and she knew that all she had been feeling would at some point find her again. Right now though she was content. Wrapped up in the arms of two of her greatest loves, Naiya’s eyes fluttered shut. The warmth from both men seeping into her with the music on the DVD acting as a lullaby. That was when the sleep she craved finally took her.

---

[purplesurveys]

1084

survey by trixie11

Yesterday

What time did you wake up? I woke up at 9:30 AM, extremely parched and hungover from the night before. Though I dunno if I should say the night before, since I was in a video call with my college friends from 9 PM to 5 AM, lol. But anyway, we drank a lot and talked a lot and it was SO much fun. I can’t believe it took us 10 months to do this.

Where were you sleeping at? I slept in my own bed, as always.

What was for breakfast? My dad made pancit with pork and vegetables. He also made a bowl of lugaw meant for both my mom (who’s currently on a diet) and for me (since he saw I looked wrecked, and lugaw is a popular hangover food).

What did you wear? I was wearing a black halter top and shorts during the day, but I took a shower in the afternoon and changed into a striped tank top and a new pair of shorts.

Did you go to school? Nope. I did visit UP with Andi last Friday and it felt so uhfjfdlsfsdfh being there. It was such a range of emotions, knowing I haven’t been there since March, I never got a proper senior year experience, seeing all the barriers blocking the streets that lead to the buildings that now double as COVID isolation facilities; and, of course, knowing that this was the place I shared with Gabie for four years and now she isn’t even a part of my life anymore in any way.

Did you go to work? No, it was a Sunday.

What was for lunch? My family always has breakfast really late, so it already doubles as our lunch. I think we were all in the living room to watch a mass livestream during noon.

What was for dinner? My mom made some kind of creamy pasta with toasted bread on the side.

Where else did you go? I stayed home yesterday since I had already gone out last Friday night with Andi and to recharge from my 7-hour call with friends last Saturday. Plus, going out would just tempt me to spend when I have barely anything left from my last paycheck, hahaha. 

What did you do there? I just had a Worth It marathon all day. I also finally got up to speed on the independent channel of BuzzFeed people Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara, and Steven Lim called Watcher. I remember subscribing as soon as they launched the channel a year ago but never had time to watch their any of their series. But I finally did, and it turns out I was missing out so bad; their content is pretty great.

Who did you talk to? Well I was up until 5 AM from the night before, and in that call were Blanch, Lui, Jo, JM, Kate, and Laurice. The day after, I talked to my dad, mom, Nina, Andi, and Angela.

Who did you hang out with? Just myself. Me time is super important to me, especially on Sundays.

Who did you text? My phone remained off for most of yesterday.

Who did you call? Didn’t need to call anyone, either.

Anything else about yesterday? By 5 AM only Kate, Laurice, Jo, and I were left in the call since the others got sleepy; we ended up talking about Nacho and thinking back to the time he passed away and sharing our own stories. That was sad, but also therapeutic. Andi also shared photos of them wearing the skirt I gave them for Christmas and I was super happy to see them feel confident in it.

Today

What time did you wake up? I first woke up at around 6:45 AM, but I went back to sleep and woke up again at 7:30. I usually get up to start work at 8, so I spent the next half hour trying to wake myself up and shake off the anxiety I was feeling.

Where'd you wake up at? Again, my bed.

What's for breakfast? Skipped it. It’s my lunch break now and my stomach’s been growling like crazy all morning, so after this survey I might go downstairs and find something to munch on.

School today? No school for me. In general, I think law school is off the table for good. JM told a lot of horror stories covering the toxic culture in law schools all over the country and it’s just...I just don’t think it’s worth it to go through the things he touched on just to get a law degree, especially since I’m not even passionate about being a lawyer. I just thought it could be an option since I like memorizing stuff, lol.

How about work? Yeah, I have work but it’s 12:10 so we’re on lunch break.

What's for lunch? I still have to see.

Dinner? Not sure. My dad usually makes delicious dinner though so I don’t think too hard about this.

Who did you talk to today? I’ve talked to some of my colleagues at work - Ysa, Bea, Denise, Danielle, Pia, and our newest associate Aimee, who starts today and who I already know since we went to college together and took up journalism - and I’ve also talked to Nina, Angela, and Kate.

Who'd you text? Nobody; I don’t really text anymore unless it’s for work. My weekly promo actually expired yesterday so I wouldn’t be able to text unless I redeem that promo again.

Who'd you call? I was in a video call with my work team this morning for our weekly check-in. Then I have three more work-related calls lined up this afternoon.

Anywhere else you're going? I plan to be at home for the rest of my shift and to stay home in the evening so that I have enough time to recharge before tomorrow morning.

What are you doing there? ^ Oop, already touched on that.

What did you wear today? I’m still wearing the same striped tank top + shorts combo from yesterday.

Anything else about today? I hate how anxious I get every Sunday evening/Monday morning before work when things have always ended up being more than okay 10 times out of 10. I don’t know where the nerves come from when I do my tasks correctly and on time, anyway. What matters is I’m settled now at work and I’m just looking forward to finish my shift.

Tomorrow

What time are you waking up? Same time, since I have the same routine every weekday. Sigh, I miss the variety that college life gave me - even things like having my first classes at different hours of the day every weekday already provided a lot of excitement. The 9-6 set-up + WFH can feel so lonely sometimes.

Where will you be waking up? I sleep in my bed like 98% of the time but I also end up passing out on the living room couch sometimes. I can never tell, so this is a question mark for now.

What are you going to eat for breakfast? I will probably skip breakfast as always. If not, I imagine having scrambled eggs, hotdogs, and a couple slices of white bread.

What are you going to wear? I’ll just pick out housewear items from my drawer.

Are you going to school? No.

Are you going to work? You know it.

What are you going to eat for lunch? I don’t plan this far ahead.

What are you going to eat for dinner? No clue but again, my dad will 100% whip up something delicious as he always does for dinner.

Where else are you going? I’m only staying at home since I will need a strong, consistent internet connection to be able to work. This goes for every weekday too.

Who will you talk to? The people I’ll surely talk to are Ysa, Bea, Pia, Danielle, and Aimee since I work with them daily. My parents and sister, too.

Who will you text? I still can’t tell, but probably no one.

Who will you call? I have one Google Meet call scheduled for tomorrow, but we’re 26 in the group and I’m not in the mood to list everyone’s names down.

Who will you hang out with? I’ll only be with myself. My friends are busy with their own stuff on weekdays too, so it’s okay.

Anything else about tomorrow? It’s one day closer to the weekend so it’s something to look forward to.

In conclusion...

What day of the week was yesterday? Yesterday was Sunday.

Today? Monday.

Tomorrow? Tuesday.

What was the date yesterday? January 17th.

Today? 18th.

Tomorrow? It’ll be the 19th.

Which of the three days do you think will be the best? Sunday was obviously the best.

Why? It was the weekend andddd I got to sleep in.

Which one do you talk to more people? Monday is usually the busiest day at work, so I think it would be safe to assume I’ll be talking to more people today compared to yesterday and tomorrow.

Call more people? My Monday schedules will occsionally be flooded with scheduled work-related video calls. I have four for today alone, but I’m already done with three; the last one isn’t until 4 PM.

Text more people? It always differs.

[janicho88]

Falling For You -Part 4

December

Pairing-Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word count- 6071

Warning- Slight angst, jealousy, one or two swear words,  fluff.  Slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU  Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean​  for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

Your parents Christmas party was two weeks away, but you had a lot of baking to do, and none of it was started.  Why did you procrastinate?  Oh yeah, not much freezer room here when they are finished, and you had been hanging out with Dean.  Coming home from work on Monday, you got a quick workout in before planning to spend the evening in the kitchen. 

 Recipes out, and ingredients spread on the counter you started working on your first cookie.  Tonight you decided, was peanut butter night, which meant making the dough for peanut butter blossoms first, it would sit overnight and cook tomorrow while you were mixing other dough.  Santa’s peanut butter cookie bars, and the last item of the night no bakes.

While working on the cookie bars there was a knock on your door which had you pausing to answer it. Hands a little sticky you answered the door as best you could. 

“Hey Dean.”

“Hi Y/N, um, you got a little something here, and a here.”  He pointed to one side of your face and then your forehead.  Wiping it off with your hands you made a bigger mess.  

“Moved out almost a week and you forgot where Sam lives already?”  You teased him letting him into your apartment.  

“No, I came over to see if you would like to grab some food with me.  I think you might be a little busy though.”

“Yeah, I’m working on deserts for the Christmas party at my parents in two weeks.  Your invitation should be coming any day, I hope you, your brother and Jess can come.  I know Cas and Meg will be there too.  I was in the middle of baking, but you are welcome to hang out if you want.”

“I got it today actually, I’ll be there.  Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Alright, so let's order a pizza, and I’ll help with quantity control in the kitchen.”

“I won’t have much for you to control tonight, but pizza sounds good.”

While the bar was cooking you got everything ready for the no bakes, deciding to start them after the pizza arrived.  Eating at the counter next to Dean, he told you about the shop he was working in.  He really liked Bobby, said he was an old grump on the outside but a teddy bear underneath.  Bobby’s wife Ellen  helped with the book keeping some days, she also owned a bar a little outside of town.  He invited you to go with him, Sam and Jess to check it out sometime. Benny and he got along well, he also ran the kitchen at the bar in the evenings.

Santa’s peanut butter bars came out as you were waiting for your no-bake ingredients to boil.  Dean went to cut a piece after you had set it down.

“You know that’s going to be extremely hot right?”

“It will cool in a minute, everything is better right out of the oven.”  Shaking your head you went back to stirring your pot. “Oh that was good,” came from Dean a few minutes later.  “When did you start baking?”

“My mom used to do it all, I’d help with what I could when I was little.  Dumping in the ingredients she already measured, or stirring the batter after she mixed it.  When you’re a kid you think you are so much help.  Then we started doing it together as I got older, I learned from her.  Over time I’ve found some of my own recipes to make, or put my spin on others.  The last couple of years I’ve taken on most of the party baking, but there are one or two things we will make together for it.”

“You’ve got a real talent for it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to humor me.”  

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, just looking at the back of your head while you were stirring. “It can be a great stress relief too when I’m frustrated with someone or something. It also forces me to find time for the gym.”  You continued on not noticing his pause. 

You had made a double batch of no-bakes and when they were ready, had talked Dean into helping you spoon them out.  As the pot they were in cooled down Dean stuck a finger in the still soft cookie batter before putting it in his mouth.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Trying to keep a stern face as you looked at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did you want a taste?”  He dipped another finger and spread it over your lips before tapping your nose.  Neither of you moving, eyes locked on one another before Dean’s ringing phone broke you apart.  He went into the living room to take the call, while you wiped off your face and tried to figure out what that was between you.  Nothing, right?  You guys were just friends, neither of you wanted more, you were seeing things that weren’t there.

“That was Bobby, I have to go.  There is a late delivery coming into the shop he was expecting in the morning and he isn’t there to let them in.  You um, doing anything this week, or weekend?” He seemed a little more hesitant when he asked that.

“You’re looking at it.  Maybe some cleaning and decorating I’m a little behind on it.”

“You need any help?”

“I don’t know about help, but I’ll always take the company if you want.”

“Okay, I’ll see you sometime this week.  Night Y/N.”

“Night Dean,” locking up after him you let your thoughts drift to the green eyed man causing you so much confusion.  Two months ago you both wanted to avoid relationships, you still didn’t think you were ready to get back out there.  You really didn’t want to misread anything from him and scare him away either.    

It was Friday night before you saw Dean again, a knock coming just after 5:30.  This time he appeared at your door with beer, and burgers. 

“Hi, you didn’t have to bring food.”

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you have anything here to eat?”

“I probably could have figured out something.” 

“Yeah, the burgers were needed. This way more time to work on whatever tonight's project is.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.  Tonight's goal is frosting the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, making the frosting topping for the Cranberry Bliss bar, and the cake for the petit fours.”

“I’m not sure which question to ask first.  I’m going to go with what the hell is a petty four?”

Not able to hide a smile and small chuckle you looked at him as you handed him a plate for his burger and fries.  “Petit four, ever seen those small cake looking things that are like an inch or smaller, decorated fancy?”

“Maybe?  I pay more attention to the pie.  Speaking of, are you making any of those?”

“Not exactly, I have cherry pie cookie cups. Petit fours are a type of cake with layers of frosting and I also do a fruit filling in mine too.”

“Sounds complicated, but back to where are these cookie pies?  I think I need to check them for you.”

“Sorry, I was out of freezer room here, they already went to my parent’s freezer.  And yes, they are complicated.  I’ll make the cake today, then it has to cool and slightly freeze,  the filling, frosting and glaze will get made this weekend and then put all together.”

“I don’t have that kinda patience. Next question, what are you going to do with all this?”

“It’s a big party, we go through a lot then.  It will go back in the freezer after, and the week leading up to Christmas we’ll get it back out and make up trays to give away to friends, business we deal with, and have some left over for Christmas.”

“What does one have to do to get on this list, sweetheart?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure one will find its way to your door. 

“What all is on your party list?”

“The things from Monday, and tonight, buckeyes, cherry cheesecake bar, two different truffles, fudge, cranberry cookies, candies, white chocolate ginger cookies, and choc cherry brownie bites, polar bear faces and some candies.”

“Next week is helping mom clean, with any last minute decorations she hasn’t done, then food Thursday and Friday night. Saturday is the party, Sunday I might not get out of bed.”

Dean laughed at that, “I never said I was joking Winchester.”

“Alright, alright so what are we doing first?”

“You really want to help me?  You are welcome to turn on the television and just hang out.”

“Nope, I’m here to bake sweetheart.”

You offered to let him pick something on tv, but he declined so you turned on Hallmark Christmas movies to help you both get in the Christmas spirit.  Dean helped you put together the cake for the petit fours, so that could get cooking first.  Frosting sugar cookies was next, you had done a few cut outs, but you preferred plain old circles.  It saved time and could be decorated any way.  The frosting colors were always tied in to that year's decoration colors.  This year was blue, white and silver, unfortunately you hadn’t found a silver paste coloring yet.  You were going to make three different shades of blues and a simple white. The powdered sugar needed to be shifted still to help keep the frosting smoother. You gave that job to Dean while you got the rest of the ingredients ready.

“Oops,”  you heard from behind you.  Turning around Dean had put too much powdered sugar in at once then apparently leaned over to see what he was doing. Now he was wearing some on his face and shirt. 

“Here,”  handing him a wet rag you helped him clean up a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use store bought?”

“Yes, but this recipe tastes better, has a better consistency for decorating with it, and dries so I can stack them without ruining the design.”

“Whatever you say Betty Crocker.”

The two of you both grabbed some cookies and started to decorate, at one point you looked up and had to look away so Dean wouldn't see your smile.  The man really likes his sprinkles apparently.  

“Wow!”  You looked up quickly to see what caused that reaction from Dean.

“What?”

“Your frosting on those, that’s like store bought good.”

Feeling the blush heat up your face you smiled at him, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.  Watched a lot of decorating tips too.”

It was a lot of fun decorating the cookies with Dean, you goofed off a little and tried to “help” each other with the cookie the other was working on at that time.  That ended with some, let’s say interesting looking cookies thrown in with the others. 

“Hey Dean,” You got his attention while you headed to the sink with the last of the remaining frosting.  “I think you got a little something right here,” as you tapped him on the nose with a blue spoon quickly getting out of his reach. 

While you were standing at the sink he came up behind you and wiped his frosted nose on the shoulder of your dark green shirt.  “Dean!”  Neither of you could hold in your laughter.

The last task of the night was the frosting to the Cranberry bars.  Dean had snuck a few bits of everything tonight, but you didn’t care.  He had earned it.  This had been the most fun baking you had had in a long time.  

Neither of you had to work tomorrow and retired to the couch to watch a movie when you were all cleaned up.  The temperature had dropped this week and despite the heat being on still a little chilly in the apartment.  There was  a blanket behind Dean he grabbed before sitting next to you and tossing it over you both.  You didn’t realize as the movie went on you leaned a little closer in to Dean until he put his arm around your shoulders anchoring you close.

Dean was telling you about his week and how he met the owner’s step daughter, Jo, this week.  She had been in everyday to take care of the paper work for Ellen since she had problems at the bar to take care of.  According to Dean she was a bit of a talker, and kept coming to the back of the shop where he was working.

Oh you fool, you thought, she’s trying to flirt with you, not just talk.  “Was she just there this week?”

“Not sure, I heard her tell Bobby she would be happy to take it over if they wanted her too.”

Of course she would,  she wants to see you, went through your head, but all you said “Oh,”  You're not looking to date, you have no right to be jealous of her flirting with Dean or hanging out with him at work.  Not that he would be interested; he only wants friends right now too, but you found yourself worrying about Dean falling for her.  

Dean looked around your apartment as he was walking out, “Not much time for decorating yet?”

“I’m going to work on that tomorrow.  What about you?  How is your house coming?”

“I only had a few decorations I put up, I won’t be up here anyways.” 

“No?  Your parents aren’t coming back up?”

“No, we are heading to them.  Jess’ parents are going on a cruise that leaves the 26th so Sam and her are heading to see them before Christmas and will meet us in Kansas. I took the week of Christmas off, I’ll drive there either the 20th or 21st and come back here the 27th.   Are your parents staying in town for Christmas?

“Yep, we have it at their house every year, and my aunt should be good to travel by then.”

“That’s good, see you tomorrow.” 

“What?”  He just winked at you and shut the door.  Did you have plans you were forgetting?

Late Saturday morning while you were fighting with branches there was a knock at your door.  A bright eyed Winchester was waiting to be let in, his coffee in hand.

“I didn’t have plans today, and thought I’d give you some help.  Plus I wanted to see how the petty things went together.”  He looked at the corner where you had been working, “What is that mess?”

“That’s my tree, thank you very much, and it’s petit four.”

“You know real is the way to go.”

“Says the man with no tree.  Maybe it is, except when you live alone, and would have to water it and check it everyday and you have an allergy to the branches making you break out in red itchy spots.”

“Okay, you win.”

Dean helped you get the tree together and put the ornaments up.  When you finished with that you got the petit fours out to finish. Dean watched you adding layers to the bottom half of the cake, then put the top half on doing the same, helping when he could.

“Getting the glaze on is the hardest part, mine never look as good as ones you can get in a store.”

“I think they look awesome, if I tried these mine wouldn’t be half as good.”

You had ingredients in your cupboard for pasta so you started that inviting Dean to stay for dinner.  The night ended much like the last with the two of you side by side watching a movie on the couch.

The next week was pretty busy for you helping at your parents, it went fairly quickly though.  Usually during the week you will talk to Dean a few times and text almost everyday, even if it’s just sending the other a funny picture.  This week you hadn’t heard from him at all.  Guess he was too busy at work with Jo. 

The party had been going on for an hour and you still hadn’t seen Dean yet.  Sam, Jess, Cas and Meg had all arrived half an hour ago.  

It was thirty minutes later when Dean finally arrived. Finding his brother and friend first he said hello to them before looking for you.  Finally spotting you talking to a group of people, he hung out behind you for a few minutes before a woman looked up at him and said hello.  This had you turning around.

“Hello Dean, so glad you could finally make it.”  Was it chilly in here or just your voice.

“Oh, you’re Dean!”  Exclaimed the woman who first spotted him.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  he gave her a small smile.

The woman looked to you before going back to Dean, “It’s nice to finally meet you, it seems like my daughter has forgotten her manners. I'll introduce myself, I’m Alicia. It's nice to meet you. Y/N said you had helped her with the baking last week.  I have to say you two make a great team, thank you for helping her.”  She glanced over at you looking at the floor, “I need to go check the food, I’m sure I’ll see you around, Dean.”

“Sorry I’m late, I got called back into work.”

“The shop closes at one on Saturday’s, it’s 8:30 now. Did you walk home and then here?”

“No, Jo was trying to finish up paperwork for November that had to be sent in today.  She called me in to explain some of the notes, and expenses.  Bobby and Ellen were out of town today so she couldn’t ask them.  It took awhile and she wanted to grab dinner, I told her I had a party to be at, but she kept pushing and I went with her for one drink.”

“It’s fine Dean, nothing said you had to be here when it started, or stay the whole time.  Have fun, your brother and Cas are around here somewhere.  I need to go check the dessert table.”  

Turning and quickly walking away, Dean was too caught off guard by your distance to follow right away.  You had never given him the cold shoulder like that, he didn’t like it.  By the time he caught up to you again, someone else had pulled you into conversation.  Waiting a few minutes for you to finish, finally deciding to go find Sam and the rest of that group when you didn’t.  He was fairly certain you were upset with him, and that didn’t sit well at all.

He passed by the food set up in the dining room, and kept going.  As much as he was starving when he got here, he seemed to have lost his appetite now.  Meg and Jess were gone when he rejoined the guys.  He pretended to listen to their conversation, but he wasn’t really there.  Why were you so mad, was it because he was late, or did something else happen?  Why did you care when he showed up, there were numerous other people here.  His original plan was to come early and see if you needed help, but going over paperwork with Jo took much longer than expected.  She couldn’t seem to concentrate on her work.   

Excusing yourself from the family friend who cornered you , you made your way to your old room.  Needing a few minutes of alone time to calm yourself down.  You were jealous, but no way would you admit that to anyone else.  Your door opened minutes after you shut it, looking up Jess and Meg walked in sitting across from you on the bed.  

“Partied out already, or hiding from someone?”  Meg gave you a knowing look waiting for your answer.  “You do know Dean is downstairs right?”

“Neither, I just needed a minute, too many people down there for me.  Yeah, I know he finally showed up, not that I care”

“Liar,”  spoke up Jess.

“The two of us are completely sure you being up here has nothing to do with a green eyed bowlegged mechanic you have been looking for all night.”

“Nope, not at all. Why should I care if he spent the evening helping the boss’ daughter do paperwork, or that he took her out for dinner.”  Staring at your friends you didn’t say anything else. 

“Yep you're just fine,”  when you didn’t say anything else Meg continued, “know we are here whenever you want to talk about whatever is going on in your head.”

You all rejoined the party.  This was always one of your favorite nights as much as you were looking forward to having Dean here tonight, you weren’t up to seeing him right now.  You had caught up with your friends on and off the rest of the night.  Mostly when Dean had stepped away.  You were ready for the night to be over.

Sunday morning Dean stood outside your apartment door knocking without any answer.  The door behind him opened but he didn’t realize it until hearing a voice he knew well.

“You know I live in 43 right?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.  Y/N lives in 44.  She was off last night and I wanted to talk to her.  Picked up breakfast on the way over so she wouldn’t have to make anything.  But if she doesn’t open the door I can’t give it to her.”

“Jerk, It’s still a bit early, did you text her?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t respond.”

“You’re welcome to wait for her in here if you want to try again in a bit.”  After knocking again, he followed Sam inside.

Rolling over in bed, you reached over petting the dog laying next to you.  You missed having a dog around, but your apartment wasn’t pet friendly.  Grabbing a sweatshirt you made your way downstairs to see what your parents were up to.  You had decided to spend last night in your old room so you would be here to help with any more clean up this morning.  It was a good hour later when it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.  Picking it you realized the battery died, and you didn’t bring a charger.  You were the only one without an iPhone so their chargers wouldn’t work on yours.  That will have to wait till I get home later.

Getting off the elevator later that afternoon you ran into Sam.  “Hey, Dean was looking for you earlier, but you never answered your door.  He waited for awhile, but had to get going.”

“I stayed at my parent’s last night, and didn’t take a charger for my phone.  Thank you guys for coming last night.”

“It was fun, thanks for inviting us.  When your phone has a charge, text Dean back, he has texted me a few times since he left asking if I’ve seen you.”

“Alright, talk to you later Sam.”

When your phone finally had some life you sent Dean a text apologizing for missing him when you weren’t home.

“Can I come over?” Dean texted back.

You had to debate with yourself whether you wanted him to or not.  He had done a lot to help you last week, and been a much needed friend.  Did he really deserve the cold shoulder because you were jealous?  You texted back ‘If you want.’

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, putting on a smile you let Dean in.  Maybe you could pretend your behavior last night didn’t happen. 

“Hi Dean.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me come over.”

“Not a problem, how was your day?”

“Alright, a little worried my friend is mad at me, and I really want to fix that. I’m sorry I was so late.  I was actually going to come early and see if you needed help, I’m sorry work got in the way.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed and mess with anything this morning.”

Guess he wasn’t going to go along with your plan to pretend it didn’t happen. “I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have gotten that upset.  You didn’t have to be there right at 7, I was excited to have you there last night and it shouldn’t have mattered when you came. I should have enjoyed having you there when you arrived.  I ruined it for both of us, I’m sorry. Sorry, I missed breakfast with you this morning.”

“It’s okay, I just really don’t want to lose my friend.  If you really wanted to make it up to me, go shopping with me tomorrow night?  I need some help with Jess and Mom, please?” He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Sure, I still have a bit to do also.”  Dean had been the best thing to happen to you in awhile, you didn’t want to lose him either.  Hopefully a night at the mall could help things go back to the way they were. “Pick me up after work?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Have you eaten dinner yet? I have leftovers from the party if you want to stay for dinner?”

“Seriously? Yes, I  didn’t end up getting anything last night.”

Both of you worked in the morning, so instead of starting a movie after dinner you just turned a tv show on.  Tonight you two didn’t sit as close as you previously did, honestly you missed it. You made small talk, he asked how things were at your parents’ house.  You told him everything cleaned up fairly quick, staying there made you miss having your dog around. 

Snow was lightly falling on the way to the mall, you were hoping for a white Christmas. Dean asked about your day, not much happened for you at work.  He was telling you about a classic car that just came in he was working on.  He really enjoyed his job, his green eyes shining as he talked about the different parts that needed restoring.

Arriving at the mall it became clear Dean really didn’t have any ideas on what to get either woman, so you offered various suggestions in the stores you were in.  Finally getting Jess done, Dean picked up a scarf you knew she wanted, and some fun picture frames to go on her collage wall.  His mom was proving trickier.  

“Any hobbies?” you asked, leaving the 6th different store. 

Dean thought for a moment, “She does like horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m coming to realize you are all obsessed with monsters.  How about not for Christmas. Any place she mentioned she would want to go?”

He thought for a few minutes “Actually I heard her talking to Jess about a new place that opened up in town.”  When Dean finished telling you about you pulled out your phone to see if you could google it.  Finding what you needed you explained your idea to Dean and what you could get up here and what he would need to get once he was back in Kansas. 

With that  accomplished you two wandered around a few more stores looking for items to fill the rest of your lists.

Thursday was the next time you saw Dean, running into him in the apartments’ parking lot.  He was on his way to meet Sam for something.  Making small talk in the elevator, without thinking you asked something you didn’t really want to know.

“How’s Jo been?”

Dean gave you a funny look, “I don’t really know,  she hasn't been in the shop the last couple days.”

“Oh, I thought you might talk to her outside of work.”  What are you doing Y/N, do you really want to know this.  

“No. I don’t really have a reason to need to talk to the boss’s daughter outside of work.”

“Okay.  I have something in my apartment for you, I meant to drop off.  If you have time stop over before you leave.”

“Is it pie?”

“Sorry, not this time.”

When you got inside your apartment you went to check and see what ingredients you had in your cupboard. Finding pecans and a pack of crescent rolls you decided to whip up something quick.  A little over an hour later you heard a knock at your door.  Inviting Dean in you walked back over to the kitchen where the timer was going off.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I didn’t have any fruit to make a regular pie filling, but I did have some pecans I never used for the party, I made you a pecan pie bar, I hope it’s okay.”  You could almost see Dean’s mouth start to water.  “I’ll get you a fork and plate.”

“I don’t need a plate, the pan is fine.”

While Dean was eating you grabbed the item you picked up for him from the spare room.

“I know you don’t have a tree because you won’t be here for Christmas, but I thought you needed something.  Even if it’s not real.”  You had picked him up a little prelit tree and decorated it to have in his house.  

“It’s great, thanks Y/N.  You didn’t have to do that though.”  Dean gave you a hug as you set it down next to the pan of bars. 

“I know, I wanted to.  You can set it on that skinny table you have and set the presents underneath it after you wrap them.”

“Oh, that’s right I have to wrap them.  Hey sweetheart, do you think you might come over one night and help me with…”

“Seriously Winchester?  How would you ever make it without me, do you even have paper?” Laughing you agreed to come over Saturday and wrap what he had.  

“Of course I do.”

Knowing you were just hanging around the house and wrapping presents you put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt to head to Dean’s knowing he would be hanging out in sweats by now too.  Sure enough he answered the door in a grey henley and black sweats.  The fireplace was on in the living room and with the presents and wrapping paper on the coffee table.  Dean ordered pizza and found Die Hard on tv.  He was sitting on the couch watching you work, when you looked up at him.

“Are you planning on helping me at all or just watching?”

“Which answer won’t get me in trouble?” The bitch face you sent his way might rival Sam’s.  “I was kidding, I was just watching how you do it.  Very nice wrapping by the way.”  The roll of wrapping paper flying at him barely missed his arm. 

Two presents into Dean wrapping, you knew why he wanted help.  When the pizza arrived you set him free. Finishing the last gift you leaned back against the couch rolling your shoulders to loosen them up after being hunched over.  Dean was sitting up on the couch behind you and  leaned down to rub your stiff shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do for you wrapping those.”  Before you left for the night you put the gifts under his tree best you could.

You spent the next week trying to catch up with your own Christmas shopping, get the cards in the mail, and trying to find time to just enjoy the Holidays.  Friday night you, Charlie, Meg and Jess donned your best ugly sweaters and leggings, spending the evening at your place vegging out and watching movies.  

You woke up early Saturday morning to head to Dean’s house before he left. Knocking on his door he was surprised to see you.

“I just wanted to stop over before you left.  I brought you some of the desserts to take to your parents house.”  You had given Dean a plate of them the weekend before when you came over to wrap.  “I expect those to make it to Kansas so you better put them in the trunk.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I might need a snack for the road.  Eleven hours is a long trip.”

“I figured you would, there is a bag of the cherry pie cookies in there for you.”

“You are too good to me.”  Giving you a kiss on the cheek he walked past you to put them in his car while you followed him over. 

“Do you need help doing anything before you go?”

“I’m all set, car is loaded, just have to refill the coffee in my travel mug, wash the pot and lock up the house.  

Waiting while Dean finished with his coffee you walked out to the car with him.  “Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas.  See you when you get back.”

“Thank you sweetheart.  Thanks for your help and the cookies. Have a Merry Christmas yourself.”  With a hug you walked to your own car watching the Impala drive away. 

You were definitely going to miss him this week. A little after one that afternoon you received a text from Dean saying he was in Springfield, Illinois and halfway there, he would text you when he arrived at his parents. Around seven, that text arrived along with a picture of a house you were guessing belonged to John and Mary. The two of you talked a few times over the week, he called later than usual Tuesday night, and seemed to be really down.  

On Christmas Eve you went to Mass with your family before heading to your parents house for dinner with your grandparents, some of your parents siblings, and cousins.  Games followed and a few hours later the house cleared out.  You spent the night there since you would be having Christmas morning there with your dad’s family.  Dean had texted you a few times throughout the day, Sam arrived today so you hoped he could help his brother with whatever was going on. 

Christmas morning you sent Dean a text before helping your mom with breakfast.  Your dad’s family spent the morning at the house before heading elsewhere for the afternoon.  Your mom’s family started coming over around 2, they stayed for dinner and games.  You loved your family but were glad to have an empty house spending time with your parents when everyone was gone.

That evening you went back to your apartment.  Sitting on the couch looking at your Christmas tree you saw a big gift bag Jess had dropped off before leaving town.  She told you you couldn’t open it till Christmas, that was now right?  Grabbing it you brought it back to the couch with you. 

First you pulled out a big oddly wrapped lump, unwrapping it you found a Chocolate Lab plush.  He reminded you of your dog you had growing up. The next item was a t-shirt that had you cracking up.  In the bottom of the bag was a card.

Y/N, 

I think this goes to show what we both already knew, I can’t wrap worth a damn.  This guy reminded me of the pictures I have seen in your apartment.  He might not be able to follow you around, or bark at strangers, but hopefully he can keep you company.  I got a laugh out of the shirt and I hope you do too.    

Merry Christmas Sweetheart,

Dean

  Dean called you later that evening.

“Hi, Merry Christmas Dean.”

“Merry Christmas to you Y/N.  How was your day?”

“It was good.  Scooby and I are relaxing back home now.”

“Good, um who’s Scooby?”

“This really cute chocolate lab plush that my good friend got me.  Thank you Dean, he’s great.”

“Not a problem Sweetheart. Glad you like him, Scooby?”

“That was my dog's name growing up, I was a big Scooby Doo fan.  Still am”

He started laughing, “So was I.  Yeah, I wouldn’t rush to change the channel if it was on now either.”

 The two of you talked more about your days.   He was ready to leave, but Sam and Jess were riding back with him, and he didn’t want to pull them away yet.  Something happened while he was home, he didn’t sound like himself.  If you had to guess it was why he called you Tuesday night.  You wondered if you would find out what that was.

Part 5

Thank you for reading!

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[pettyrevenge-base]

Plumbing Instructor was rude to me, so I let his shop fail safety inspection and get a write up

This happened my sophomore year of high school, around 3 years ago now. I attended a vocational high school. For those of you who aren���t as familiar with how they work, students attending this school are trained in a vocation of their choice by professionals from that trade.

I had selected painting and design and sign making as my shop, and we did everything from house painting and drywall installation to making vinyl signs with our plot cutting machines. My school has a very good system of allowing shops to work together and with the school board in mutually beneficial relationships. For example, I took any sheet metal that I needed bent and shaped to the metal fabrication shop and they also used students from my shop to do things like frost their windows and tint welding booths.

This particular incident happened between me and plumbing. My school had just done some remodeling, which included some shops and classrooms being rearranged and repainted after repairs. Since my shop had the ability to print and cut vinyl, we helped out the school by producing and putting up these fire extinguisher signs, which are required by law to be above every single fire extinguisher in our school - especially in our shops, many of which are more fire-prone than your average classroom.

I was making my way through every shop and was very welcomed by every shop instructor so far, as safety inspections were coming up that weekend and OSHA is always just a call away. These signs were absolutely required and the administration and most teachers were generally very grateful that my shop had the time and ability to make these signs so that they did not have to purchase them and pay another company or take the time and effort to hang them themselves. I spent all of about 5 minutes in every shop I entered, working with two other students to move as quickly as possible and avoid unnecessary intrusion. Even if all extinguishers were visible, we still had to talk to an instructor to inform them of what we were doing and have them confirm all extinguisher locations, which was like them “signing off” on our job so that there could be no blame placed on my shop or me if one was missed.

This job is very easy for my classmates and I but would be a hassle for anyone untrained to do on their own. It involves some leveling and knowing how to smoothly apply vinyl using a halfway tape method and it is very easy to ruin the thin material we were using.

All was fine and dandy, until I reached.... plumbing

My two classmates and I entered the shop, being sure to stay in the area marked for non-plumbing students until we could ask if it was safe for us to put the signs up. However, we were fairly surprised to see the entire shop empty and dead silent. There wasn’t even anyone in the office. I figured that the upperclassmen must have been called to a job site and the lowerclassmen were either working around the school or taking the written portion of their class. In hopes of finding someone, I entered the attracted classroom, being sure to be as quiet as possible as to not distract of there was an ongoing class. Lo and behold, there were all of the sophomores, quiet as could be as they took a written plumbing test. I approached the instructor administrating the test, who I personally knew as I was in plumbing quite often for little tasks, and showed him my extinguisher signs as I started to tell him what I was there for.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt but I’m here from painting and design and we were sent to -“

Before I could even vocalize my reason for being there, he cut me off and began absolutely screaming at me

“CANT YOU SEE THEY’RE TAKING A TEST?? HOW DARE YOU COME AND INTERRUPT US? IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME, YOU HAVE TO SIT OUTSIDE AND WAIT UNTIL I DECIDE I HAVE TIME FOR YOU.

“GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM RIGHT NOW”

His face had literally turned red and I could see the spit flying from his mouth. I was dumbfounded. I had been as polite as possible but I was running on a schedule and was doing school-ordered work that was, again, required by the state for our shops to pass safety inspections. If any shop failed to meet safety regulations, they’d receive a written warning. If the problem wasn’t fixed at the next inspection and it was their second time in a row being deemed as an unsafe environment, the shop would be suspended from all activity until the problem had been fixed and the instructors took a mandatory unpaid safety course. Third time or a serious infraction for the second could lead to the instructors being fired and the shop being shut down until further notice. I knew that plumbing had been warned about something last inspection, so it was absolutely crucial that they pass inspection this time if they didn’t want to be suspended and have to go to safety training classes. I couldn’t believe that the lead instructor could be so rude and uncaring about safety measures because I knew just how much he’d hate going to unpaid safety training

After a second of just standing there in shock, I turned around and just walked out of plumbing completely. I didn’t say a word to him and told my two classmates who’d stayed waiting in the main shop with our tools that we were skipping plumbing all together and they could come begging on their knees if they wanted me to come back to hang the signs. When we finished the other shops, I returned to mine and “forgot” to tell our teachers that plumbing didn’t receive their signs.

At the end of the week, we got a call from an very pissy plumbing teacher about not getting his signs and demanding we come “right this instant” to put them up. Inspections were that Saturday and we’d “coincidentally” run out of signs and for the rest of the day I just couldn’t for the life of me remember how to use my plot machine that I’d been trained on for years. Oops.

The signs meant for plumbing made a great liner for my locker and the school announced a hold on plumbing activity while they “updated their licenses”. Every time I saw that plumbing instructor after, I gave him my biggest smile and always made sure to tell him how much of a shame it was that we couldn’t help him out with the signs. He never made eye contact.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[dolansmith]

CEO Pt. Two~ Grayson Dolan

A/N: I took too long to upload this and this isn’t even long enough to compensate for that lol oops. But I hope yall like it anyway c: Let me know what you think! (Next part will be longer I sweeeeaaarr)

Summary: YN is an aloof businesswoman that meets her match in the hopeless romantic that is Grayson Dolan.

Warnings: mentions of sex, fluff, angst towards the end

Word Count: 2,204

And if you haven’t read part one, here it is

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The night consisted of a lot of hot sex, and a lot of laughing.

But despite that, the next morning, Y/N awoke to an empty bed. She wanted to be unsurprised. She even wanted to not care, but for some reason she did care. Sex with Grayson was some of the best she’d ever had—not that she’d ever get the chance to tell him so. 

After talking a bit more about the project he wanted to start with Ethan, his twin brother, they drank some more and then started where they left off at the car. They both got oversensitive from how much they’d fucked, Y/N’s pussy tingled at the thought of it.

She sighed disappointedly before making her way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for her day. After having done her hair and makeup to her liking she entered the kitchen, surprised to see Grayson lying on her sofa. Her eyebrows shot up as she watched him snore. How did I miss that sound when I woke up? She thought to herself. 

Y/N shrugged before making her way to the kitchen, making a breakfast shake and some toast. After placing the two smoothies, and a large plate of avocado toast on the coffee table, she turned the tv on loudly, taking a quick bite of her toast, sitting back and watching as Grayson sat up, startled by the loud music from whatever show she’d chosen off of Netflix.

Grayson looked around the room in a confused state before his eyes landed on a smirking Y/N. She turned the tv to a normal volume and gestured towards the food. “Made you breakfast as a thank you.” Grayson’s eyebrows shot up at the gesture, his chest warming at how kind it was. She wasn’t as cold as she made herself out to be. “A thank you? Also, is that smoothie dairy free?” He asked sheepishly.

She looked at him strangely, “No, it’s almond milk—the only dairy consumed in this household is cheese. I didn’t think that’d compliment the fruits very well, though, but if you want some—“

Grayson pecked her lips, effectively cutting her sarcasm off, “This was really nice of you…ma.”

For the first time, in what felt like maybe ever, Y/N blushed. Grayson noticed, but didn’t comment, he simply smiled triumphantly. “Why’d you sleep on the couch?” She asked, sipping on her smoothie. Grayson shrugged, “something told me you weren’t the type to cuddle.” He wanted to seem nonchalant, but his heart couldn’t help but stutter at the thought that maybe she wanted him to cuddle her.

“I’m not.” Or not, he thought.

“Then good thing I didn’t stay in your bed then, huh?” Grayson mocked her, a smirk finding its way onto his face despite the slight disappointment he felt. Y/N made a face, nodding a bit, continuing her breakfast. They watched the show in a comfortable silence, finishing their respective meals. Once they did, Y/N watched as Grayson gathered their dishes and made his way to the kitchen to wash them. She followed suit, sitting on the countertop by the sink as he cleaned up.

“Thank you,” she muttered as he finished. He leaned his hip against the sink, facing her, his signature goofy smile on his face as he said, “You made breakfast, it was only right. About last night—“

“I’d like to do it again, if you’re interested,” she stated. No use in beating around the bush, not when she wanted something. Grayson’s eyebrows shot up, his heart racing as he moved to stand between her legs. He placed his large hands on her thighs, “I think something could be arranged,” he muttered. Grayson softly rubbed up her thigh, his thumbs only an inch from her core, before he pushed them back down to her knees, rubbing circles into them, a smirk on his face.

He leaned in closely, his breath tickling her neck before he began to place small, fluttering kisses on it. Y/N chuckled as he made his way down, making Grayson’s heart skip a beat as he continued kissing down her chest and breasts through the fabric of her shirt, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Her laughter stopped when he pressed his lips to her hastily; his tongue swiping against her bottom lip for the entrance she decided against, pushing him backwards instead. Grayson groaned as the pretty, red painted smirk he knew he’d grow to be very fond of, took its rightful place on Y/N’s face as she said, “Not quite yet.”

Those three words ignited a flame that neither of the two would quite know how to extinguish. They met up almost everyday for three months, creating an unspoken, but strict, routine: on Sundays, Grayson helped Y/N film and edit her videos. He’d sleep over on Saturday nights. Most of those Saturdays consisted of Thai takeout and a movie followed by long makeout sessions and sometimes fast and rough sex, sometimes it’d be a nightlong 50 Shades ordeal, and sometimes they wouldn’t have sex at all—they’d just hold each other and talk, something neither of them could bring themselves to do with anyone else. The next morning Y/N would make breakfast while Grayson set up her equipment. At some point, he became her unofficial cameraman and would spend the evening helping her edit.

During work on weekdays, they’d spend hours on FaceTime. Helping each other through the lull that paperwork brought, and Grayson especially loved when Y/N began a new project and took him into meetings. Her eyes would sparkle as she ran through ideas with her team, her phone propped up so he could see her, and she always kept at least one AirPod in so he could hear her too. She had to learn how to acknowledge Grayson’s commentary while staying as professional as possible; she spent a long time earning the respect she had, she wouldn’t want to damage that.

A couple time’s a month, Y/N returned the weekly favor Grayson did on Sundays and would help the Dolan twins with their videos. She’d help them film sometimes when they needed more than one cameraman, and she’d helped them plan a few videos as well. They’d truly become best friends; Y/N knew Grayson almost as well as his own twin did and Grayson knew her better than anyone else did.

To Y/N, it was all perfect. She had someone she could call her best friend: someone who could make her laugh until she wheezed, make her scream in orgasm, someone who knew her Thai order without asking, and bought her tampons and groceries whenever he was able to—their dynamic was perfect. There was no drama, no distraction from work, no—

“I think we should stop,” Grayson said one Saturday at Y/N’s door. He’d gotten there a lot earlier than he usually did, but Y/N had a tendency to wear lingerie as loungewear so she was never not ready to be taken by him. He’d knocked so loudly, she imagined the scenario going very differently as she was already untying the red silk robe while opening the door. Her manicured fingers fell from the robe as he spoke.

While their friendship and all its factors meant more than a great deal to Y/N, Grayson was beginning to see that there was no future in what they were doing. No matter how close they became, no matter how happy they were, no matter how familiar they’d become to each other…Y/N was never going to see him as more than a friend. He’d come to terms with this reality. This didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt him, but it did mean that he’d asked a girl he’d met, and had a rather lengthy conversation with at a coffee shop that morning, out on a date. He liked Nancy enough. She was kind and soft-spoken. She reminded Grayson of sunshine, except on legs. He knew that if they were to go out, it was more than likely that he’d fall in love with her.

But she wasn’t anything like the fiery, intimidating, and blunt woman he’d grown to love. He wasn’t sure that anyone like Y/N existed, he highly doubted it—but at the very least she’d stay his friend.

“Stop what, baby boy?” Y/N asked as she furrowed her brows, not bothering to cover herself back up, her red lacy bra and underwear on full display as she left the door open for him to walk through. She took a seat on her couch and patted the space next to her, concern in her eyes. He seemed nervous and reluctant. She knew what he meant, but she didn’t understand where it’d come from. They were fine last night before he left to go back home to hang out with Ethan, what had happened in less than 24 hours that would have him wanting to leave her?

What did I do wrong? She asked herself, suddenly wanting to kick him out so she’d be in control of the situation. So maybe the sting of losing someone she’d become so close to wouldn’t hurt as much.

Grayson ignored the stirring in his pants at both the sight of her and the pet name. He’d never been one to be submissive, or enjoy it at the very least, but having Y/N dom him, made him change his mind. Judging by the color she was wearing, that’s what he would’ve been in for had he not said anything. He wanted to take it back as he took her in, his mind briefly imagining her tying him up and making him beg for her—but he pushed the thoughts down. He needed to move on.

“Stop the sex part of our relationship.” He clarified. There was a brief pause before he continued, “I met someone.” He was hoping to elicit some type of reaction. A part of him, the selfish part, hoped that she would realize his feelings if she felt him slipping away. That if she watched him begin to fall for someone else, that it’d change her mind about relationships, about commitment.

Grayson’s life wasn’t like the romcoms he binged with Y/N on Saturday nights, though. He’d always found it ironic that romantic comedies were her favorite, when commitment was something she couldn’t fathom. He was disappointed when a wide smile, one he didn’t think he’d ever seen before, made its way onto her face, “Really? That’s great, Gray! Tell me about her?”

It took him a moment to gather his disappointed pieces and shove them in a box but once he did, he told her about Nancy.

The pair sat together on the couch, discussing Grayson’s potential love interest, both doing their best to ignore the tension it brought between them as they both figured it was a figment of their own imaginations. Y/N didn’t want to let what they had go; she knew a relationship would take him away from her in big ways—not just sexual but also their weekend routines, or even just hanging out in general. He’d met someone, though. She knew what that meant to him because he wasn’t like her. He wanted a family one day. She wasn’t the person to give that to him. And the way he described Nancy? He described her as some kind of goddess living amongst them, and it was something she could never amount to even in her wildest dreams. Even if she was the ‘settle-down-start-a-family’ type, he wouldn’t love her. She was too much of the opposite of what he wanted.

What felt like hours later, but was really only half of one, Grayson checked his watch to see he had to get going or else he’d be late for the date. “She’s gonna love you,. Who wouldn’t?” Y/N smiled, fixing his hair a bit after walking him back to her front door. She knew she was doing the right thing, letting him go. It didn’t hurt her any less, though. Grayson’s eyes softened, silently begging her to ask him to stay.

But Grayson knew his best friend better than anyone. She either wouldn’t notice his silent pleas, or she’d ignore them. So instead of making any other embarrassing attempts to get her to ask him to cancel the date, he kissed her forehead swiftly and grinned, “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

She nodded, closing the door behind him. Y/N slid down her door, ignoring the startled feeling the cold tiles brought as they met her warm, exposed skin. She brought her knees up under her chin and tried to calm her breathing as her chest began to ache and tearless sobs racked her body. She didn’t want to cry, but the second the thought of Grayson no longer being in her life crossed her mind, the tears fell freely.

If he didn’t stick around for the sex, it was only a matter of time before the friendship aspect of their relationship deteriorated too.

TAGS: @szadolans​, @sweetbily​, @preciousd0lanboiz​, @reblogdolan​, @babyboydxlan​, @afrophilia​, @jeweldolan​, @sugarfootdolan​, @g-e-dolan​, @miriamxsworld​, @graysavant​, @dolanskippy​, @giggling-grayson​, @whiskyryeandredlipstick​