#NO ONE LET ME GET BEHIND A WHEEL FOR TEN BUSINESS DAYS

[quick-catton]

HEY GUYS IF YOU NEED ME I'LL BE OUT BACK IF YOU HEAR GUNSHOTS DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

[bigification]

Corporate

John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.

He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.

Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.

But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.

Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.

John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.

One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.

He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.

He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.

He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.

"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.

"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.

"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.

"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."

"What's your name?"

"John Fitzgerald."

The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.

A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.

"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.

The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.

"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.

"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.

"Yes, go on."

John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.

He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.

"They're too big!" John complained.

The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.

"They're still too big!" John whined.

"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.

"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.

John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.

John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.

His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.

John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.

This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.

John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.

His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.

Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.

John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.

"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.

"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."

John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.

"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.

John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.

"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.

[dilfl0v3rss]

WAIT CS I HAVE AN IDEA-

Y/n sneaks out to a party that she don’t have no business in going and ony catches her when she get home and fuck ha shit upp Like he always doo

AWWWW SHIT NAAAAAAA. I LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOINGGGGG.😩😩😩

party pooper

cw: gun violence

word count: 2.1k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

you were thinking about this party all week, having an outfit and everything picked so you didn’t have anything to worry about the day of. ony knew you were going out tonight, but you kind of left out the fact that you were going to the trenches to shake ass at a party. he still ended up finding out anyways, telling you to stay your ass home, but who tf want to do that.

he wasn’t supposed to be home until late so you figured you could just sneak out and be back by the time he got home. so that’s exactly what you did. your friend was outside your house by ten and you got right tf up outta there, skirt riding up your ass as you ran to the car in excitement. “bitchhh you ready?” sasha yelled, hands gripping the steering wheel as she shook in excitement.

“nah i’m actually shakin in my boots. if this man find out i think he might kill me furreal.” you and sasha were basically in the same predicament, going to this party without the approval of your boyfriends. “who give a fuck? we live right now and we’ll die laterrrr.” you giggled, nodding your head in agreement as you turned up the music and sung along for the rest of the journey.

the party was jumping. there was bitches shaking ass (including you), niggas selling drugs, and good music playing so loud that it could be heard down the block. you and sasha got comfortable real quick and we’re honestly having the most fun you’ve had in awhile. “this is your song girl you can’t let these hoes outdo youuu!!” sasha yelled as the intro to freak hoe by speaker knockerz began to play. you made your way to the middle of the floor swaying side to side until the beat dropped.

ass shaking in circles as you leaned over and held onto sasha’s arms for support. everyone’s eyes gravitated towards you as you continued moving to the song, that was until three loud gunshots were heard. bodies began to scatter everywhere as the entire party got ruined. people were jumping out of windows and running in random peoples cars just to get away from the cause of the deadly sound.

you and sasha finally made it to her car. pissed that your fun was ruined. “Y/N! bring your ass over here, NOW!!” your body froze as you listened to the familiar voice. while you was too busy being hardheaded and living it up at a party you shouldn’t be at, you didn’t think to try to at least be lowkey. ony and connie were chilling at their trap house when he looked one of his friend’s story. there you were, shaking ass for the whole world to see, skirt practically on your stomach as you gave everyone a show.

“man ima kill this girl” connie looked at his friend in concern before bubbling with the same anger as he watched the video replay on his phone. “i know that’s not my girl in the back. yea we out.” connie grumbled, pointing at sasha who was right behind you recoding as well. with that the two of them sped to the party, guns hidden securely on their waists as they walked inside.

ony didn’t plan on shooting it up, he actually was just gon calmly grab you up outta there for your safety because this is a bad area you were in. he looked around the house until his eyes landed on the center of a big circle of people. once he registered the sight in front of him he could help but reach right for his gun. your boyfriend was nowhere near insecure. he knew it was your body and that you had every right to shake some ass if you wanted, but the sight of the men around you made him sick.

cameras out, zooming closer and closer to your more private areas as you were obliviously dancing along to your favorite song. in no time his gun was out and there were three bullets let off in the ceiling. ony watched the people scatter as he waited inside for the house to be empty. him and connie stood on the porch, watching you stand next to sasha while she scrambled in her bag for her keys.

“m’not playin wit you girl. come over here now or it’s just gon be worse for you at home.” your legs moved slowly as you thought of an excuse as to why you were here. before you knew it, you were face to face with his heavy breathing chest, instantly making you revert your eyes to the ground. “unt uhh look at me mama. ian down there.” his strong hand wrapped around your throat, forcing your head to shoot upwards towards his face.

“here’s what’s gon happen. you gon get in the car, quietly. ion wanna here no crying or whining during this whole ride or ima add it on to the lesson ima teach you when we get home, understand?” his voice was low and menacing as he stared into your eyes, face drained of any emotion. “o-okay.” your lungs filled with air as ony let go of your neck, nodding towards his car.

you sat in the passenger seat scared shitless as you watched him give the guy that threw the party a stack of cash, probably for the damage he caused, before dapping connie up and saying goodnight to sasha. he got in the car quietly, not sparing you a single glacé before driving the two of you home. the ride was completely silent like he wanted. any excuses you thought of were quickly swallowed as well as the urge to cry.

you didn’t even notice when you got home until you felt your door open. “let’s go.” ony mumbled. he walked you to the living room, manspreading on the couch while you stared down at him. “m’really really really so-” he sucked his teeth before throwing you over hip lap. skirt already so short that his brown eyes got a good view of your soaked panties. warm palm caressing your ass as he spoke. “what’d i tell you baby?”

the smoothness of his voice made you shiver. “why you shakin’? ian spank you yet.” a chuckle rumbled from ony’s chest as he listened intently for your reply. “m’scared.” you were terrified. usually when you’d get in trouble your boyfriend would lecture you and make a big fuss so his calmness was very foreign to you.

“good.” a hard smack was brought to your ass causing the pending tears in your eyes to begin to fall. your hands instantly flew to cover your burning skin, sheliding them from his rough palms. “you know why ian want you over there right?” he grabbed both of your hands into his singular one, ignoring your whimpers. “b-because it’s n-not sa-“

“because it’s not fucking safe, that’s right. a nigga could’ve put sum in your drink or snatched you up. that’s the shit that be happening at parties like that and instead of being my good girl and listening to me, you decided to be. a. brat.” three more strikes were made to your ass. each harder than the last as you thrashed around on his thighs. “m-m’sorry papa.”

your tears created a small wet patch to form on the couch. you honestly didn’t mean to make him worry so much. it was just that you haven’t gotten to go out in awhile and wanted to finally have some fun. the wet patch went unnoticed until your cheek was smushed into it. ony removed himself from under you, positioning his body behind your before pushing your back down. “yea i bet you are baby. hold onto that pillow right there.”

head nodding towards the cushion as he untied the strings of his sweatpants. you gushed at the sight of his print through his grey briefs, moaning out loud as you thought of how good he was going to feel. “look straight mama. this a punishment, not a reward.” you obeyed, gripping the pillow tightly as you prepared yourself for the stinging stretch of his dick.

“be g-gentle daddy.” you mumbled as ony gripped both of your asscheeks, pulling your panties to the side and squeezing them as he spreader them apart. “be obedient.” he trusted his full length into you, giving you no time to prepare as he began pounding you into the cushion of the couch. “oouuu fuck mama. you always so tight.” ony groaned, hand flat on your back as his other delivered many slaps on your ass.

you outstretched your arm, pushing at his stomach for him to ease up. “p-pleaseeee aahhgg. jus take a little out daddyyyy.” whining as you were already trying to run from him. ony grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pulling your ass all the way back to him to the point where you were flush against his stomach. “stop running and take this shit. and move your fucking hand. barely even started yet.” he slapped your hand away, continuing to pound into you.

all eight inches of him curving just right in your pussy. as you got more used to his size, your heat grew wetter as the constant friction. moans began flying from your mouth left and right making you tighten round him. “there you go mama. takin me like a good girl.” his hips began snapping into you harder, making it more difficult for you to take him. “ahh w-wait a little bit daddy. s’too biggg.”

ignoring you, ony thrusted into you harder, pushing your back down lower so he could reach that spongy spot deep inside you. your stomach brushed against the couch as your body jolted. “unt uhh baby where’s the big girl that like t’sneak out, huh? where’s the girl that like to go out and shake her ass in a skimpy lil skirt while her man is worried sick about her?” where she at?”

wetness trickling down your thighs as you kept your death grip on the pillow. “s-she said she’s ahh s-sorry. m’sorryyyy daddyyy.” ony halted his trusts, giving you a hard slap on your ass and tightening his grip on your shirt. “mhmm throw that ass back princess. make it up to daddy.” his strong arm started you off by pulling you back and forth by your shirt before letting you do it on your own. ass clapping repeatedly as you twerked on his dick.

his brown eyes rolling as he felt you clench tighter around him. you continued working yourself on his shaft, chasing your upcoming orgasm. “d-daddy?”you were met with nothing but his hips fucking you back as he stared at where the two of you were connected. he was hypnotized by your body. “baby?” his head snapped up towards yours, shaking himself out of his thoughts before replying. “y-yea pretty? ahh fuck.” he breathed.

“i’m r-really sorry. i d-didn’t mean to make y-you worry, honest. i-i jus wanted t’go have funn, and when you told me the day of that i wasn’t allowed i g-got a little upset. i wont g-go over there e-ever again i swearrrr.” you began pushing yourself back harder as you held eye contact. ony’s resolve weakened as he felt his blood begin rushing to his dick, signaling to him he was going to cum if he didn’t get in control quickly.

ony’s hand tangled in your hair before pulling you up to his chest, arm wrapping around your middle as he kissed up and down your neck. his long tongue licked a stripe behind your ear before whispering dirty words to you. “mhmm. m’not finna say it’s okay ‘cause it’s not, but i forgive you mama. now keep making daddy feel good and i’ll give you this nut. how dat sound?” his teeth closed around your ear, gold girls pinching the skin. “y-yes please.”

the both of you moved on one accord, fucking each other dumb as you reached your climax’s. body growing weak and legs shaking as your thick cream rushed down his shaft. ony easily held you up, continuing to use you as his personal fleshlight. “ughh fuck baby m’finna cum.” his pace quickened, hips pistoning into you as you screamed from the overstimulation. he gave you one final trust before kissing you to keep you quiet, moaning into your mouth as his hot ropes flowed into your walls.

the two of you stayed like that for awhile, giving each other light kisses as you panted in each others mouths. “lemme get the water ready mama. we needa take a bath.”

[vervainandspritz]

Lost On You

Robert Fischer x Reader

PART 1

6.5k words

A/N: sorry it took so long but it's here, life's been busy! The story will be written in a little different style, as I got inspired by old English novels. The point of view will be switching frequently to give a bigger outlook. Let me know what you think!

Money. They say it's something acquired and that it doesn't bring happiness, but ninety eight percent of your living doesn't come from nowhere, right? We don't get to choose workplaces based on wellbeing or fun, at least not everyone has the privilege to do so. Money. Nothing else would keep me here for so long, Y/N thought.

She couldn't help but ponder on her choices, driving in an automatic state of mind, doing it out of habit and barely paying attention. It's a surprise that I never crashed, the woman thought to herself chuckling under her breath.

Glancing at the buildings and, still sitting behind the wheel of her car - a white, six-year-old Honda Civic, as she asks herself every morning: Why do I still work here? Why do I get out of bed every morning, ten minutes before my alarm, when I'm already losing to time every single day, stuck in traffic jams and still being late almost everyday? Why have I been doing this for three years instead of two.. at most?

For money and practice, that's obvious, her own, bitter at times mind replies with slight annoyance.

This is the third year of her toiling at Fischer Morrow and Y/N had no idea how time has flown by so quickly. At the age of twenty-three years old and since she started college, FM has been her first and last place of employment. She got a paid internship in October of her first year, which seemed too good to be true. Yet here she was. Honestly? It wasn't a feat or success at all, and Y/N only understood that with time. Her raging headache was slowly growing with each thought crossing her mind. It was.. a daily thing for her, her mind being on overdrive.

For centuries, there has been a belief at all types of universities that freshmen never get internships, however, this is just not true, not entirely because the truth lies somewhere else. They don't get internships because they DON'T WANT them. Yes, they don't. It's a pain in the ass. First, you have to prove yourself to get one, and then you have to immediately approach everything very seriously and for little to no money.

You have to be responsible: don't waste your weekends partying. Your mind needs to always be focused on studying and working. That's why it's better to start later. There's time for everything in life, and instead of partying, meeting people, and enjoying student life, I got busy working. I take it seriously. SERIOUSLY.

However, not everything is so bad. Over time, such actions bring tangible benefits. I have more experience than other students and I know that I will have no problems finding a job. But I also have a good salary: better than if I interned at any competitor company. FM pays me more than students are usually paid, and the salary increases with the duration of the internship, so after almost three years… I was fine. Just fine.

I'm renting an apartment of my own, I have my own “almost new” car, and well. I never need to borrow any money from anyone. It's a bad habit that I absolutely don't want to ever have.

So what keeps me going here is fucking money, Y/N eventually decides as she gets out of the car, shutting the door close and wrapping the coat around herself a little tighter, since the weather wasn't the dreamiest. It was autumn after all.

Walking through the company parking lot, she made her way towards the main entrance. Her clicking heels were the only sound around besides the raging wind. As she passed through the door, she saw a very familiar woman.

Vicky, was sitting by the receptionist desk writing something down until she heard the door swinging open.

Vicky looked up to see Y/N as she lightly smiled. Her makeup was a little too intense for the workplace, but it had become what she was known for. People liked to talk about Vicky in less flattering ways than necessary, which… maybe was another reason why Y/N grew to like her so much. Going with the flow tended to feel like an itch and, well, who liked that damn nagging sensation? Nobody. Clearly.

“Early as ever” The redhead said with a chuckle, her bold-red lips stretching into a smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a sigh, raising an eyebrow.

“...and good morning to you too. I guess” She replied, smoothing out her hair, which of course didn't want to fully lay down, slightly waving at the ends. Y/N leaned slightly over the desk. “Is the witch here already?” she asked in a quiet tone, looking around to make sure nobody caught her words.

“Which one? There's plenty” Vicky whispered back with a chuckle, seeing the unimpressed look.

Unable to contain her laughter, Y/N covered her mouth to make the snort she let out as inaudible as possible.

“The Italian one” She replied.

The Fischer Morrow company is owned by Italian-American entrepreneur Maurice Fischer. In order to work there, you need to constantly improve your language skills. Knowledge of Italian was one of the criteria to receive the internship. Even though I'm only an intern and my Italian is at a high level, I also have to attend lessons once a week. They are paid for by Fischer himself. This is another bonus of interning or working for this company in my opinion.

Free Italian language lessons. If only the Italian teacher wasn’t so terrible.

“Girl, I'm a receptionist. How am I supposed to know?” Vicky says with a sigh, followed by a shrug. Obviously she was disappointed with how little people in the company communicated with her despite being the first point of contact for anyone who entered Fischer Morrow. She was a little nosey by nature.

Y/N sighed deeply before straightening her back, grabbing her purse, and heading to the elevator with a heart pounding in her chest. She loved the Italian language, but simply despised the current teacher.

She's demanding and bitter, plus treats me like a fucking ten year old. She tends to leave us homework, which I rarely get on time because of the amount of work I have. She's thrilled every single time, needless to say.

“Y/N!” Vicky yelled out, as she rushed towards the closing elevator doors, managing to stop them on time with her arm. “You-know-who is calling us to the conference room. Not only us but most departments.” She said, trying to catch her breath in the meantime.

“What for?” Y/N asked with surprise.

Mr. Fischer was not someone who'd usually make announcements. He was demanding and reasonably kind but his expectations towards his workers were always high. Whether anyone liked it or not, he'd make a drastic change and expect people to get used to it immediately.

“Who knows, but… I'm telling you in case.” She said, giving Y/N THE look.

She immediately understood, nodding gracefully and letting out a deep breath as the door closed.

Walking through the corridor, Y/N noticed several workers heading IMMEDIATELY to the conference room.

That's sooner than expected, she thought with a sarcastic chuckle.

Caroline, the head of advertising, walked like she owned the whole building in her obscenely high heels, barely keeping from breaking her ankles as her hips swayed beneath the tight skirt.

Oh my fucking god, please not her. Anyone but her.

“Hey, Y/N” She said in a fake sweet tone that made Y/N contain an eyeroll. “Did you hear that we all have a meeting? I wonder why. Maybe something happened? Maybe I will get a promotion?!” She started babbling without giving her colleague a chance to speak at all. It wasn't anything new about her, that's just the way Caroline was.

“What's that?” Y/N asked, pointing at the hard cover in Caroline's hand, trying to smoothly change the topic.

The taller woman glanced at her own grip, like she didn't know herself before smiling once again.

“Oh, it's a calendar. I thought that I should look, you know, busy and smart since Fischer will be there.” She explained with such pride, causing Y/N to internally cringe.

Oh god, I sighed inwardly. Not that I consider myself an expert on human behaviour, but this is probably way beneath my dignity, or I haven't soaked the corporate dress code in yet.

“He'll probably start whining again and ask obvious questions.” Y/N murmured under her breath, barely listening to Caroline and Marie, another department head, who suddenly appeared by her side.

With a fucking calendar tucked under her armpit.

They immediately started talking about Vicky from the reception, feeling the need to comment on everything about her, apparently.

The boss always asks strangely simple and at the same time uncomfortable questions. He is an old-school man and often does not understand what we do. You need to explain to him the mechanisms of how some of the departments function and, despite appearances, this can be difficult. Caroline can't recall the details in her head, and Marie, in turn, can't explain how it works. That's probably why they work together. They must complement each other. But this is not a reason to discredit the boss. He wouldn't be where he is today if he weren't smart in some way? Right? Or maybe it's just my naivete, because when I look at my colleagues who pretend to be professional, hold old calendars in their hands and call the reception girl a plastic doll while holding high positions, I start to doubt it. I have the impression that the higher the position in this company, the worse the intellect and intelligence.

“But you like her, right Y/N? Can't blame you though, coming in late so often and knowing the receptionist well enough to make sure she doesn't tell on you must come in handy.” Marie said in such a fake kind way that well that annoyed Y/N more than she'd like it to.

It was supposed to sting and it did, but Marie is not my boss and all she can do is talk. I have nothing against her, but her fanatical approach to work can be tiring. Marie doesn't understand that not everyone finds her job the love of his life. By the way, I wonder how her husband feels in this arrangement, knowing that she is cheating on him with her job

Even our boss, whom I hate as much as the Italian teacher, isn't that fanatical. Another witch. My nemesis.

Katherina

She is mean and annoying, but at the same time has a lot of knowledge and experience. Sometimes a nice word will slip from her lips but it barely comes out of her throat, accompanied by THAT grimace and her praise sounds artificial from ANY distance. She doesn't have a sense of humour and is a cunning bitch. Calculating like no other and often ruthless. She always gets what she wants, and is one of the people who have the ability to approach the CEO and talk about budget in such a way ensuring she will always get the largest of all departments. Katherina is a real business bitch.

“Let's just get going” Y/N said, ripping herself out of the thoughts, turning around and slowly walking into the conference room which was by now filled with people.

We took our places by the humongous table in the middle, impatiently waiting on what was to come.

Everyone wonders what this meeting is for and quiet whispers fill the room. However, when Mr. Fischer appears with a serious face, everyone falls silent. We know right away that what he wants to tell us will not be pleasant.

Our boss is an older and slightly mannered man, with a specific sense of humour. Always dressed in a suit and a white shirt, he creates an aura of inaccessibility around him and immediately, at first glance, commands respect.

I don't like talking to him in private, although he once mentioned that he likes me and even loves my work style. To this day, I don't know how he knows what I'm doing, but it’s not important. I guess he wanted to let me know that he still has his finger on the pulse of even the smallest details.

I must admit, it's very encouraging to hear such praise from the CEO himself, but I still don't like talking to him.

The older man sits down in his usual seat and opens his notes. He looks up at all of us and sighs.

“Ladies and gentlemen” He begins almost like he was starting a holy mass in a church, and as if by an innate reflex I want to fold my hands in a prayer, even though I am not a Christian by any means. “...because I wanted to inform you that I will soon be planning to retire…” he finishes the first sentence in a weak tone, and the whole room is filled with a murmur of quiet conversations and surprised voices.

“Yes, yes, I'm so old that it's time to get going..” he adds and laughs briefly, while no one else has the courage to do so. “...and you're probably wondering who will take over the position in our company after me, well... “ He makes an appropriate pause to build tension.

“My older son Robert is coming back to us.” he finishes, and the room begins to boil, but not from words, but from employees squirming in their chairs.

They all look at each other as one and hear single words of surprise. The faces of some of them are not very optimistic, not to mention disgusted, but the boss quickly silences the noise with a loud clearing of his throat.

“...and although I know the circumstances in which he disappeared from the company, the most important thing now is that he returns and will take my position, but only in a few months, when I will re-implement and improve his training" he adds, and my thoughts wander towards my first days at work.

Despite the lack of interest Y/N had in the topic of Mr. Fishers’ son, she got an earful of it on her way back to the office.

Quiet conversations filled the corridor as people whispered about Robert Fischer, who apparently got kicked out a little time before Y/N got the job, so they never met. Not that she regretted such a sequence of events, as he sounded like an immature person lacking professional approach in work, and having more interest in women. Not the best colleague to have around.

Not long after, Maurice Fischer sighed deeply, gesturing to us that we could leave, so without waiting, Y/N made her way out of the crowded room. Ignoring Caroline's voice calling her name, she made her way through the corridor and chose the stairs instead of the elevator this time. It was faster.

Closing the door behind her back, Y/N closed her eyes for a second with a sigh, feeling relieved. Finally peace.

Sitting in her chair, she fixed her hair with a swift movement, putting it in a neat ponytail as her phone rang.

Deep sigh pushed past her lips once again, as she saw Maurice Fischer's name on the screen.

“Yes, Sir?” She responded in a professional tone without missing a beat.

“Y/N can you swing by my office in twenty minutes? I'd like to discuss something.” His voice was tense, and it didn't sound very promising.

God, I hope I didn't fuck something up, she thought.

“Of course. I'll be there, Mr. Fischer.” Her eyes shifted around the desk as she nodded unknowingly, before putting the phone down with a click.

Now, she was stressed, but it didn't mean that she could get away with the work that was waiting.

Without wasting another minute, her fingers started pressing on the keyboard at a quick pace, filling up the documents from her files, making sure no mistakes were made.

Twenty minutes passed sooner than she'd wished for them to, and soon enough Y/N was quickly walking through the corridor, holding tightly onto the file and her phone, typing away email after email before a certain impact caused her to almost drop the phone on the ground.

With a gasp she looked up, seeing a… young man with brown, neat hair and piercing blue irises.

His eyes widened for some reason as he let out a gasp.

“Katherina?” He said in a low, raspy voice which was filled with… something that Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on.

Quickly fixing up her facial expression, she cleared her throat, slightly shaking her head.

“No, no… I'm Y/N. You must have taken me for someone else.” Her voice was confident, not showing the confusion in the tiniest bit. Chin raised proudly, as she didn't shy away from eye contact, bravely grazing into his eyes.

The man blinked a couple times, sizing her up before letting out a breath as he nodded, smoothing out his suit jacket.

“Forgive me, it's… my first day today. I must have been a little confused.” He said slowly, carefully choosing his words as he straightened his back. Buttoning his jacket up one button higher, he stretched out his hand towards Y/N.

“I'm Enzo” His voice was smooth like butter, which already caused Y/N to… dislike the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, it was only proper to shake his hand in such circumstances.

“Y/N” Her voice came off kind but distanced, showing off how disinterested she was in having any longer conversations. “Unfortunately I'm in a rush, so I must go. I hope the rest of your day will pass with… less confusion.”

After the words left her mouth, she passed by him like a wind, leaving behind a trail of perfumes in the air and smirk on his lips. She seemed… challenging.

***

When I reached my floor after meeting the boss and went into my office, the girls almost immediately showed up right after me.

“So what did he want? What did he want?” They asked one after another.

“Nothing, he asked about my Italian classes.” I shrugged and they looked at me like I'm an alien.

“About Italian?” Caroline asked, slightly… deflated and confused.

“No way,” Marie murmured with annoyance.

Of course they immediately sniff out gossip.

“Yep, he asked how my teacher is and that's it.” My voice slightly bored as I looked at them, silently wanting them both to leave.

They fell silent and glanced at me and then at each other.

“Weird” said Caroline, and began to think hard about something. Still in my office, if I may add.

“Weird,” Marie repeated after her.

“So, what do you think about this Robert guy coming back?” I'm asked, because Marie and Caroline have been working here longer and probably knew him.

“Oh come on, did you see how all the girls started drooling?” Caroline asked with a smirk followed by a chuckle.

“Well, I saw what a stir it caused.” replied, sorting out the paper sheets on my desk before looking up. “That's why I'm asking.”

“He’s a womaniser, a rake, and quite the seducer,” Marie said confidently.

“Not you saying that! I thought you two were friends!” Caroline imitated her and nudged Marie in the arm with a loud giggle, covering her mouth like a schoolgirl.

“Oh come on, we had lunch together in the community kitchen because he happened to come by, and now you're saying we were friends.” Marie said indignantly with her brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Admit it, he was hitting on you” Caroline laughed at her.

"You're stupid," Marie continued grumbling and stuck out her tongue, laughing teasingly, "Admit it, you were the one who had your eye on him."

“Stupid, I've already been with Tyler, come on, stop talking nonsense, I don't want such insinuations” Caroline said, becoming more serious as her eyes widened, shifting between me and Marie.

“Okay” I said to end the argument. “I still don't understand the Robert phenomenon, can you explain it to me?”

“The Robert Fischer phenomenon cannot be explained, you have to see it yourself” Caroline stated and waved her hand at me with a smirk. “It was enough for the boss to say his name and you saw what was happening in the room?” She pushed further, proving her point.

I just nodded my head in the affirmative and Marie quickly filled in the rest.

“All the girls get wet when they see him, at least the ones who remember him.” Marie said quieter, leaning towards me with her eyes widening.

“Well, he's that handsome? Charming?” I ask further, getting slightly frustrated with not understanding the big deal. There were plenty of handsome men working in Fischer Morrow.

They nodded affirmatively, shrugging lightly. “The CEO mentioned that he's his older son, which means he has a younger one too, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yes” Caroline sighed and waved her hand dismissively “Enzo is even more of a freeloader than Robert. He studied at the Academy of Fine Arts.” She responded, and… that was all I needed to know.

“Oh no” I dramatically stuck my hand out with a chuckle.

“I guess I don't have to tell you what kind of guy it is” Caroline winked before starting to laugh.

“No, no, thanks,” I shook my head disapprovingly.

My brother also studied at the Academy of Fine Arts and although I love him more than anything in my life, I know exactly what kind of person he is. He lives for alcohol, parties and has no principles. He gets up when he's had enough sleep, talks to people when he thinks he needs it and doesn't care who he sleeps with. Only art resides in his heart and next to it there is no room for any woman or man - if he were gay, which he isn't - but there is plenty of that room in his bed. Every night. For any pretty girl he sets his mind to. A typical visual person. He likes big tits, blonde hair and a bit of weirdness. The last girl he spent the night with in my apartment had half of her body tattooed. He is fascinated by tattoos.

In one word: Artist.

Caroline and Marie laughed loudly, leaving my office, and I sat down at my desk, the topic of Robert Fischer and his little brother no longer interested me.

I turned on my computer and started replying to a dozen or so emails and that's how I spent the rest of my shift.

***

Coming in another day wasn't easier at all, the weather getting WORSE, causing Y/N to give up on wearing heels that day, as she preferred to keep her legs intact rather than get hurt.

Walking into the building, like always, she looked around for Vicky who was sitting by the desk.

“Y/N!” She hissed suddenly.

"What?" I asked surprised, coming up closer to the desk as I set my purse down, looking for a hand balm.

“Witch” Vickie replied and grimaced as she did so, letting Y/N know that the teacher was already impatient and annoyed because of her being late and that Vicky had no idea what the other woman was doing here.

When sudden realisation hit, she barely restrained herself from hitting herself in the forehead.

“God! Wednesday!” A panicked whisper pushed past her lips. “I have Monday's Italian lesson due today. I completely forgot. Please, occupy her for a second.” She whispered pleadingly and still almost silently, knowing that the door to the room where the teacher was was open and that she could probably hear the conversation if she tried hard enough.

“Okay” after a minute of silence Vicky gave her a nod “...but hurry up. I don't want her to turn me into a frog.” She snorted a short laugh and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I'll just take my jacket off, and open my office. Then I'm ready.” Y/N replied again quietly and ran towards the right office wing.

She quickly stripped off her coat and grabbed the notebook and pen, hurrying back to the reception desk. Just before the door to the hall, she smoothed down her black dress, hair and entered quietly.

“Buongiorno” She greeted, but to her surprise, there was no one inside. Looking around and coming in deeper only did I notice them.

At a small conference table she was sitting accompanied by the guy I bumped into outside a few days ago. The handsome, very much my type, weird Enzo.

Taking advantage of the fact she was still not visible to them, Y/N smiled lightly to herself, a shiver running down her spine.

I wonder what he's doing here? She thought.

Both of them, busy talking, barely noticed Y/N’s entrance, especially… older teacher. If she could, she would melt under the pressure of his gaze, like ice cream in the sun.

It wasn't surprising seeing the effect he had on most women, but the situation was embarrassing to say the least, because she was about twenty years older than him.

They only stopped their oh-so-nice chat when Y/N cleared her throat and sat down at the table.

They both looked at her, the woman with distaste, and Fischer in a way that made Y/N feel like she was completely naked.

“God, Mother Nature or other creator of all existence, what a look!” She thought to herself before wondering more and more intensely what the boss’ younger son was doing here.

“Buongiorno,” the teacher greeted finally, while Enzo only started looking at the younger woman even more insistently. Sigh.

I glanced at him. He was dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, sitting squarely across from me, with his legs crossed, his ankle resting on his knee. He was looking straight at me the whole time. A shiver ran down my spine again and I couldn't stop or resist it in any way. His gaze so insistent, but also… intriguing. He was clearly the type who knows exactly how to look at a woman to intimidate her. My gaze shifted at my notes, as I started trying not to glance at him again.

I felt a little embarrassed and completely intimidated. I immediately remember the warmth of his hand and his smooth voice as I saw him the last time I saw him. It was a nice thought.

No matter how hard I tried, I could still feel his eyes on me. I knew he was staring at me, but I almost never let myself get provoked so I tried not to glance or show him that his gaze had any effect on me.

Turned out that the teacher noticed it as well and was.. probably jealous of his attention? This whole situation was so odd, that I had no idea what to do.

The older woman straightened her back, clearing her throat like I did a couple moments ago and ostentatiously shoved the attendance list under his nose so that he wouldn't stare at me anymore.

"Please sign," she said to him sweetly.

Interesting. Are they on first name terms? Yeah, right. Who wouldn't want to be on first name terms with a guy like that?

I glanced at him again, starting to secretly observe what he was doing, and without taking his eyes off me, he picked up a pen and casually signed the list, followed by pushing it away from him as if it were something unnecessary.

I looked away again, pretending to look for something in my notebook, and he rested his elbows on the conference table and leaned toward me.

“Buongiorno, Y/N. I didn't know I'd have the honor of taking classes with you.” He spoke in pure Italian with an accent that his teacher probably envied.

I stared at him in surprise for a moment.

But how? Is he going to attend classes with me? Will the CEO's younger son also work in the company? The CEO didn't mention anything!

“Oh, so you know each other?” The teacher asked pleasantly, but her artificiality gave her away quickly, trying to mask her displeasure at the fact that he knew me and on top of that, said it was an honor.

“Yes, we met a few days ago.” I answered her briefly, which was enough to cause the displeased grimace on her face, as she failed to cover it with a fake smile.

…Which made her look like a frog that got run over.

“Robert will be attending the classes with you, the CEO asked for it.” Mrs Conner explained, seeing the questioning look in my eyes.

In the meantime Robert pulled out the worksheets and started arranging them into two piles. One for me, one for him.

…and that's when I realised.

Wait, who? What Robert? My mind raced to the moment he walked in on me earlier, and I could swear that he introduced himself as Enzo, right?

I wondered, my eyes narrowed before I swiftly pulled the list of names closer to me a bit too quickly. He introduced himself as Enzo!

That's when I heard his soft snort and for some reason I just knew he was making fun of me.

Under the date of today's class I was listed and of course not any Enzo, but… Robert Fischer.

A womaniser, a pick-up artist, and... as it turns out, also a liar.

The Boss' elder son.

The man who was supposed to become my boss so very soon, already fucking up the first impression.

Why do I immediately judge him very badly and assume that he has a nasty character? Well, after what I heard from Caroline and Marie and after how he charmed me, pretending to be someone else.. I can't lie, it's a HORRIBLE first expression!

Even seeing him makes my assumptions clear, it was visible to the naked eye for what pleasures of life he was brought into this world. With such beauty and manner, you don't sit in an office, you lie in bed with women who push themselves there, one after another.

At that moment I immediately understood the ‘Robert Fischer phenomenon’ my colleagues told me about.

I sighed and signed the list without a word, because I didn't even know what to say to him. Thank you? Besides, I had zero intentions for pleasantries after he decided to lie to me after seeing me for the first time. That's what I hated the most, dishonest people.

It annoyed me that he is a man who is absolutely my type, in terms of looks, I couldn’t deny that, but in terms of character, well, he leaves A LOT to be desired, and that's probably why his behaviour intimidated me so much. I felt like an idiot.

“Have you been learning Italian for a long time?” he asked in Italian with a sly smile. Piercing blue eyes scanning my face, looking for… a reaction perhaps.

I glanced at him and he was still staring at me. He was doing it in a way that he knew was making me feel uncomfortable. He was being pushy and rude. A caveman-like show off in a rather unsophisticated way, that I've caught his eye and that he was interested in me for a reason. It was awful.

“It depends,” I answered, also in Italian, looking down at my notes.

“On what?” He pressed further, making me want to roll my eyes so hard they'd just roll out of my damn skull.

“How long is ‘long’ for you?” I answered the question with a question and glanced at the teacher.

Still arranging worksheets.

"How long have you been studying?" His voice became more.. annoyed which gave me some unknown satisfaction. Smiling sweetly, I looked into his eyes with my chin turned up.

“Ten years” I’ve said with honesty in my tone, remembering how, when I was a little girl, I forced my parents to teach me my first lesson.

Italian was not a popular language in the States.

“Ten years?” Robert repeats with a surprise.

I didn't answer, not understanding what was so strange about it, and I had zero will to dwell on why HE was surprised. “After so many years you should already speak with an accent and be above C1.” He added arrogantly, leaning back in his chair which made me scoff.

“And you? How much do you study?” I asked in response without soaring him a single glance.

“Me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Well, technically it was obvious for most of the people here, but why would I give him the satisfaction?

From birth, I assumed.

“So what? Only C1? After forty years?” I mocked with a snort, causing the teacher to open her wrinkly eyes slightly wider at the exchange, as I insinuated that he was not only stupid, but also a forty year old man.

Obviously, he wasn't that age and I was fully aware. If he was thirty, I'd be surprised. I also knew that there are C2 level lessons with a native speaker in the company, but it still made me scoff.

A couple seconds of silence got interrupted as he snorted derisively. I glanced at Robert, catching him staring at me with a stupid smile on his pink lips. He was clearly showing me that he, in fact, did enjoy the little stand off we just had. He was impressed.

God, what have I done?

I quickly became annoyed at myself for losing my cool so fast, and at him for even making me lose it at all. I should have bit my tongue earlier or told him off, but I didn't know how. What would I tell him? To stop staring at me, or to stop picking on me? He'd probably pretend I was imagining things. Because that's how it goes. He only asked about the lessons, but he kept staring at me, and I couldn’t make him understand not to. Besides, I quickly grew worried about what the teacher thought. The last thing I needed was for any gossip to spread around the company, and I knew that the teacher is close friends with the girls from the Accounting Department. She also has lessons with them and they're on first-name terms, because they're about the same age and apparently she studied Italian Philology with one of them. I already could hear them talking shit.

The rest of the lesson passed on me trying to JUST survive. I didn't enjoy it much, as they took their sweet time bragging about their posh lives and places they've been to. Of course in a fluent Italian. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to impress her or anything, but this behaviour made me cringe internally. I couldn't help but count down every minute until the very end.

When the clock finally hit ten, I got up and packed my stuff immediately, rushing to leave the classroom before my head would explode. Passing through the doorway I said goodbye to Robert and the Witch with a short "addio". Right outside the door I quickened my pace as I could hear Robert leaving right behind me. I sneaked away, quickly entering the girls' restroom.

I got to the sink and turned on the water to wash my hands, at the same moment as my eyes caught in a mirror image of Robert walking into the bathroom behind me.

For a second I froze, rooted to the spot. Has he gone mad?

I stared at him for a moment and wondered how I should address him. He was not much older than me. Maybe five years at most, but he was my soon-to-be-boss. He lied about his name and FOLLOWED ME INTO THE TOILET!

“Mr. Fischer, you should leave. It's inappropriate.” I addressed him formally, wanting to emphasise the distance between us.

Even though it was my right to demand it from him, I still felt nervous. Maybe scared even.

A guy followed me into the ladies' room and I know he didn't come here by accident. If he had, he would have come out, apologising, but he was still standing there and looking at me like I'm... In the wrong place.

No, more like prey.

“Why?” He asked stupidly, furrowing his eyebrows in a fake incomprehension as he smiled mockingly.

.. leaning on his shoulder against the wall with arms crossed on his torso.

“Because it's a women's restroom?” I replied in a sharp tone and a fair bit of sarcasm, mirroring his stupid expression.

"So what?" he asked arrogantly, shrugging.

His response took me aback and surprised by his directness. Other women said he was unpredictable, but this bordered on harassment, yet I pushed this thought away. He's just a womaniser and a flirt. I guess he stopped developing in high school.

Eyeing him for a second I straighten my back, keeping my composure.

“Actually, nothing, you can stay here, after all, even the women's toilet is yours in this company, I forgot, but I'm leaving.” I said in a professional tone and without even wiping my hands, headed towards the door as if I had been scalded.

Suddenly he stopped me by pressing his back against the door, cutting off my escape route. I'm trapped, my thoughts racing. I bet someone's going to try to get in here in a minute and find me in the WOMEN'S ROOM WITH THE CEO’S SON! The one whose reputation isn't exactly spotless.

As I look up, his eyes shift around my face and I can see something new in his expression. A glimpse of awkwardness or maybe even… shame?

“I didn't want you to take it that way.” Robert said quickly, raising his hands in surrender as he saw the fear in my eyes. “I wanted to apologise for lying about my name.” He said, as if with regret, and if we weren't in the ladies' room, I might have believed him.

“I’m not angry, but please let me out immediately!” I raised my voice at him, and he looked me in the eyes for a couple seconds, before moving to the side and moving away from the door. He left me enough space to pass through, which I did, as my shoulder brushed against his chest in the meantime.

“It was good to see you, Miss Y/L/N” he added as I passed by before the door shut, still very confident and smiling like the devil.

I left the bathroom as if I was being chased and almost ran to my office. Entering the room, I shut the door closed and let out a deep breath.

I was absolutely outraged and shocked!

What a jerk! How dare he!

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Lightning Makes The Roots Grow Deep

Basil Stilt x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 19: Voyeurism

Summary: There's something watching in the woods.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). I don't know how this became what it is.

Warnings: sort of magical realism, Basil becoming a sort of Green Man, plants growing out of people, cut to black sexy times, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1101

It had started when leaves began to grow from the scar tissue along Basil’s face. It wasn’t painful, just odd. But then again most things had been strange in the last few days… months? How long had it actually been? 

He often woke with berries on his eyelashes, the small red fruits falling when he first opened his eyes to the new day. 

He ate less. Began to just sit for hours by the window to soak up the sunshine. On rainy days he opened them, hung out bowls and cups on string to catch the rainwater and drink it down. There was nothing else like it. No other food or liquid, even tap water sustained him in the same way, nothing else quenched the deep ache in his chest. 

After a long time, when the vines from his skin had begun to twist and creep down along his arms and across his chest he had left. Finally. 

He wasn’t sure where the energy had come from, the drive. He just simply walked out of his flat in the dead of night. 

His car, the poor thing had sat dormant for years, started the second he got in and put his hands on the wheel even though his keys were still somewhere upstairs in the reminiscence of his old home. 

He drove for a long time. Out of the city and further still. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but something pulled at his nerves, an urge he could not deny. 

Basil didn’t know the name of the place when he arrived, surely a national forest of some sort. But it was the right place. 

As he walked further into the trees his muscles relaxed, the cobwebs in his lungs cleared. He was home. 

. 

“Are you sure there’s no bears?” Elizabeth asked sincerely, and Barry laughed. 

“No fucking bears, I promise.” He grinned. 

Elizabeth didn’t look so reassured. “Are you 100% on that?” 

Jamie, her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her. “No bears.” 

“Hmm.” She didn’t look so impressed. 

“I wouldn’t be here if there were.” You say, trying to comfort her. 

She gave you a brilliant smile. “Okay, you I trust.” 

You laugh, all four of you saying goodnight as you went to your respective tents. Elizabeth and Jamie shared, Barry to another, and the last was yours. 

Part of you was sure that this whole trip was secretly Jamie’s and Elizabeth’s attempt to set you up with Barry. He was nice but there was something you couldn’t put your finger on. Something just didn’t seem right. 

It’s difficult to sleep. You’d expected the cold and had packed well for it. It was the noise that was getting to you. This forest seemed louder than any you’d ever been to before. Busy. As if it was teaming with life ten times the usual amount. 

Somehow you manage to get to sleep for a while. A little after 2am you wake, needing to pee. 

You sigh and pull yourself out of your sleeping bag and grab your torch. Even though you were just going to duck behind a tree didn’t mean you weren’t going to get lost. People who got lost were people who thought they couldn’t get lost. 

You stepped as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake the others and walked around the back of a large tree and peed quickly. 

You’d just finished disinfecting your hands when there was a snap from the distance. You jolted, looking up in the direction quickly and shining your light. There was something there. Between the nearest outcrop. Like… light? Soft glowing orbs of dark pink and red. They floated like bubbles, a seemingly high pitched soft sound emanating from them. 

You don’t remember following them, one moment you were there by the campsite and the next you were deep in the undergrowth, mud high up on your jogging bottoms from your journey. 

“What?” You frown, blinking hard and trying to shift the wave of dizziness that floats next to your eyes. 

Panic doesn’t grip you, doesn’t sink in despite you not knowing where the hell you are. Instead, you feel sort of… warm. 

There’s a faint light blue glow up ahead filtering through the trees. A ranger’s station or something. You walk further in, closer to the light and…

You stop in your tracks. 

The forest is glowing. All manner of plants, flora you have never even seen in a textbook cover the clearing. Soft moss lines the floor. You lightly touch the bark of the closest tree, it’s warm. Not uncomfortably, not in a way that would make your skin crawl. It’s nice, soothing. 

It’s only then that you notice the figure in the middle of the clearing. You pause, swallowing as he looks at you. 

He says your name softly.

“How… how do you know…?”

“I’ve been watching,” he pauses, turning his head so you can see the leaves growing from his face. He moves closer, seeming to float across the moss. “You… and the others.” Lightly he touches your cheek, you can feel the vines that run along his fingertips. 

“What… are you?” You breathe, unable to take your eyes away from his skin, how the ivy twists in his hair and the moon seems to glow in one eye, his other dark like the night itself. 

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours and opening your mouth with his own. You moan, shiver as his hand trails down your neck, his hand resting just above your heart. 

You pull him closer when he licks into your mouth. He tastes like fruit, sweet and heady and when you pull back small flowers have budded and bloom along the side of his face. 

He places his hand on your hip and minuscule vines grow and slip under your clothes, pushing them from your body and tearing them away with small thorns that do not touch your skin.

You gasp, heat rising to your skin. 

“It’s alright,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and jaw. “You’re safe. I promise.” 

“I…” You swallow, words escaping you as he sucks a love bite into your skin, pulling you flush against him while he traces his hand down and lightly teases your nipple. 

When your mouth opens in a soft moan he groans, letting his fingers sink further down your body and stroke along your centre. You can feel the vines from his hand run along your skin, start to twist and stroke along your thighs. 

He licks into your mouth the same moment he sinks his fingers inside of you.

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[fallinginvictus]

I may be a day or two early for wip wednesday but I absolutely need to know what happens next in ur time loop fic of Andrew

WIP Wednesday Andrew and Aaron Time Loop AU [part 2/4]

Part 1

on ao3 I would tag this as "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings" so if you need to know more because you think there might be something that could trigger you, let me know and I'll let you know

He feels frantic as he drives on now familiar roads, his thoughts swirling in his brain and bouncing inside his skulls, unable to tell where one begins and the other ends, unable to make sense of the nightmare that he has found himself trapped in. Cars race past him as his thoughts race in his brain, images of Aaron's cold and pale body flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinks, the coldness of his brother's hand and the stillness of his chest something that will never stop haunting him for as long as he lives.

“What? Is something wrong?” Aaron asks as soon as he picks up the phone, worry clear in his tired voice.

Andrew's breaths get lost in his lungs, unable to find their way out. 

Aaron is alive. 

Aaron is alive again.

“Andrew?”

“I'm going to stay with you for a while,” is everything that he manages to say, his voice quieter than he intends it to be, his hands squeezing the steering wheel until they turn white.

“What? Why? Did something happen?” Aaron asks and Andrew wants to scream at him. 

“No,” he says. “I'm already on my way.”

“Andrew,” Aaron sighs. “For how long? Don't you have games and practice?”

“I hurt my wrist so I can't play for two weeks.”

“You can't stay with me. I have plans.”

“What plans?” he asks, wondering how many times Aaron has lied to them before, how many other times has he pretended to be busy while his only plan was that of getting high.

“With my friends.”

“You don't have friends. I'll be there in a few hours. Bye.”

He doesn't give Aaron any time to reply, any time to protest, before hanging up, Aaron's voice making his head spin, his blood boil. 

He wants to hug his brother, he wants to feel his chest move, his heart beat, his blood flowing through his veins. He wants to touch Aaron's skin and feel nothing but warmth. He wants to look him in the eyes and see them shine. 

He wants his brother to never be dead again.

♤♤

He sits outside of Aaron's locked door, the clock inside of his head ticking and ticking, each second that passes feeling like a lifetime spent in hell, wondering if the call is going to come anyways, wondering if Aaron is already dead. More than once he wants to drive back to the hospital where Aaron died, where Aaron will die. More than once he takes his phone out of his pocket and dials Aaron's number without ever calling him.

It's ten minutes past three in the afternoon when Andrew's phone rings where it's sitting on the floor by his side. Andrew's breath gets caught in his throat, his whole body tensing at the sound until his every muscle aches and screams, begging to be released, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

But when his eyes finally find the courage to look down at the bright screen by his side, it is Aaron's name that meets his eyes and not the hospital's number (a number that had now been printed inside of Andrew's brain and that he would never be able to forget.)

“What,” he says flatly as soon as he picks up the phone, his muscles still tense, his heart still racing.

“Are you really waiting for me?” Aaron asks in a tentative tone that Andrew can't decipher. Finally Andrew starts to relax, Aaron's quiet voice like sweet honey washing over him.

He hums in reply.

“I'm- I'm almost there. Wait for me,” Aaron says as the words rush out of his mouth and stumble all over each other.

“I've been waiting for almost two hours so you better be quick,” Andrew replies, unable to deny to himself just how much he longs to finally see his brother alive. 

Andrew had long since learnt to keep his emotions trapped inside of his ribcage. Some would oftentimes run away from him, slip through the cracks, escape from their perfectly built prison: in the morning with Neil's peaceful face resting by his side, the brighg sun shining on him, his hair messy, his face puffy, a soft smile on his lips; in the night with Neil's flushed body under his, his warm hands gently placed on his shoulders, his soft moans filling the quiet room.

But it had been a long time since his emotions had come crashing against his chest, threatening to split his ribcage open, uncovering his most safely guarded secrets. He had forgotten how much it hurt, how raw and vulnerable it made him feel.

“Hey,” Aaron says breathlessly, breaking the silence and coming to stand in front of a motionless Andrew.

Andrew just stares at him blankly, taking notice of every single thing that is Aaron, of every aspect of him, every detail. Aaron looks tired, Andrew notices, his skin is pale, ink spilled under his bloodshot eyes but his pupils are normal, he looks rail-thin, his collar bones heavily pronounced. 

Andrew says nothing as his brain reminds him of the list of “Common Physical Signs of Drug Usage” that he had read once on the library's computer when he was fifteen.

“You ambush me like this and you are not even going to say hi?” Aaron asks as he opens the door, but there is no strength in his voice, no malice in his words.

“Hi,” he says as he walks inside the now familiar house, his eyes falling back on the family picture displayed in the living room.

“Give me a second,” Aaron says before running inside his room and closing the door behind himself, probably trying to tidy up the mess that Andrew had already seen.

He sits on the couch, unable to come up with a plan of action, with a strategy. He had already asked Aaron before if he had relapsed and Aaron had denied it. Would he ever tell Andrew the truth if he asked? 

“So,” Aaron says as he walks out of his room with a black trash bag. Andrew just looks at him. “Are you going to tell me why you decided to crash at my house for who knows how long?”

“Am I not allowed to want to spend some time with my dearest brother?” he asks with a sweet and ostensibly fake smile on his lips, trying not to think just how much truth was actually hidden in those words.

Aaron scoffs at him, “Sure, because you totally just wanted to spend some time with me,” he says and something in his voice makes Andrew pause. He just stares at him, his brows furrowed, trying to figure out something that he knows is standing right in front of him and yet he cannot seem to be able grasp.

There's a tense silence for a few seconds as Andrew just stares at his brother, at the way air fills his lungs, as the way his chest moves.

“Fine,” Aaron breaks first. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, as if he's dealing with a troublesome kid. “Fine. You don't have to tell me now. Just- Are you okay? It's nothing bad, right?”

Andrew is taken aback by the concern in his voice before anger fills his vision. No nothing too bad, he wants to say. My own fucking brother died. No biggie.

“No, nothing too bad,” he says between clenched teeth.

♤♤

They spend the rest of the afternoon playing on Aaron's old PS2, the same one that he has owned longer than Andrew has known him. It was quiet and comfortable and Andrew could tell there was something else going on inside of his brother's mind, something that was clouding his brain, making his moves sloppy, his attention fragmented.

“Do you feel like you are going to relapse?” Andrew asks. “Don't lie to me.”

“Where does that even coming from? Fuck-” Aarons scoffs as he misses a jumps and falls down a cliff.

“Do you?”

“No? Not more than usual,” he says distractedly, his whole attention on the game in front of him. 

You used today and you died, Andrew almost says. Stop fucking lying.

“If you feel like using again, just tell me,” is all that comes out of his mouth, his eyes landing on Aaron's focused face. “Promise.”

“Sure,” Aaron says, his eyes never leaving the TV screen.

“Promise,” he repeats loudly.

“I- I promise,” Aaron says, his eyes finally meeting Andrew's.

Andrew knows it won't be enough. Aaron had lied before and he would have no qualms in lying again, in breaking a promise. But he found it difficult to worry when Aaron was sitting right by his side, their shoulders brushing against each other, Aaron's warmth washing over him.

It's 7 pm when Andrew silently gets up from the couch and heads towards the kitchen with the intention of preparing them dinner.

“What the fuck Aaron.”

“What?” Aaron says from the living room, the sound of the game almost drowning his quiet voice.

“Why the fuck is you fridge completely empty?”

“Oh,” Aaron says, turning off the game.

Andrew waits for a second, then two, expecting to receive an actual reply from his brother but getting only silence in return.

“We can go grocery shopping tomorrow,” Andrew says, sitting back down on the couch, his hand grazing Aaron's shoulder. “Let's just order take out for today.”

Aaron nods as Andrew takes his phone out of his pocket to order take-out but notices a couple of unread messages from Neil.

To: 0 Neil:

I'm going to stay with Aaron for a while

From: 0 Neil:

is everything okay?

To: 0 Neil:

I'm here to figure it out

Dinner is quiet, just like the rest of the afternoon had been quiet. Aaron's gaze never leaves his food, his eyes unfocused, his mind full of thoughts that Andrew isn't able to read. 

If only he could jump inside of Aaron's head and search through his brain, Andrew thinks, maybe then he would find the answers he's looking for, maybe then he would find the right questions.

He used to think of Aaron as someone easy to read, his goals and ambitions prosaic. He always thought he knew what Aaron wanted, what he longed for. Every action Aaron took and every comment he made used to be something Andrew could decipher and understand. And yet, now that he's standing in front of him, he wonders if he ever really knew Aaron at all, if this whole time he had been reading Aaron's signals all wrong.

“Why don't you have any friends?” he asks, his eyes scanning Aaron's face for a reaction, for a sign.

Aaron's pauses for a second, his eyes focused on his food, “Of course I have friends,” he says, his eyes meeting Andrew's. “Why would you think that I don't have any friends?”

Aaron's face doesn't betray him, his eyes seem truthful and his voice doesn't shake. If Andrew hadn't known better, he would've believed him, he would've fallen for his lie. How many times, he wonders, has Aaron lied straight to his face? How many times has he tricked Andrew before?

I can tell when you're lying to me, he used to tell Aaron. Now he wonders if he ever really could.

“Don't lie to me,” Andrew says, his voice cold, his gaze unforgiving.

“I'm not-”

“Don't lie to me,” he says again, his gaze just a little softer.

“How would you even know,” Aaron muebles as he puts more food in his mouth with his brows furrowed and an uncharacteristic pout on his lips.

In the past, Andrew would've pushed. In the past, Aaron would've been colder. 

“What's going on with you,” the words leave Andrew's mouth without his permission.

“I just-” Aaron says before shaking his head, something that Andrew can't read flashing in his eyes. “I'm tired. I'm going to bed now.”

Andrew can't do anything but watch as Aaron retreats back to his room and closes the door behind himself with a soft click. He sighs as he drops his head on the couch and stares at the white ceiling feeling lost and confused. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do. 

He doesn't know how to save Aaron from himself.

♧♧

The first week passes quickly, Aaron spending most of his days at the hospital and his evenings locked in his room studying while Andrew is left alone with his own thoughts and fears, images of his dead brother spinning like a carousel inside of his brain. 

Every night he wakes up from nightmares, his body numb and damp with sweat, Aaron's cold body flashing behind his eyes. 

Every night, he sofly opens Aaron's bedroom door and stares at his brother as he sleeps, at the way his chest rises and falls, at his pink skin and slightly flushed cheeks.

He's alive, he tells himself, over and over again. And yet he can still remember when Aaron hadn't been alive.

♧♧

“We should do things together,” Andrew tells Aaron one morning while he's still lying on the couch after having spent a whole night googling “How to make sure your brother doesn't relapse again”. 

“What?”

“Make a list of things that you want to do and we'll do them.”

“Why?” Aaron asks, walking out of the kitchen.

“You don't want to?” Andrew replies, tilting his head.

“You always have a reason for things.”

“If you don't want to-”

“I do,” Aaron interrupts him, his eyes wide.

“Then make the list and give it to me when you get home this evening.”

“I just don’t- Fine,” Aaron says with a sigh as he heads for the door. He stops there for a second, his hand on the handle and his bag over his shoulder. 

“What,” Andrew says as he takes his phone from the coffee table.

Aaron just furrows his brows and shakes his head, “Bye,” is all that comes out of his mouth before leaving the apartment.

Androw looks at the closed door, his heart racing like it does every time Aaron leaves his sight. He can feel little ants crawling under his skin and he knows that's where they'll stay until he'll see Aaron, alive and breathing, again.

♤♤

That evening Aaron comes back later than usual. Fourteen minutes later, to be exact.

Andrew is pacing the length of the living room when he hears the jingle of Aaron's keys as he pushes them in the lock. A few seconds later, Aaron walks inside the house and throws his coat on the hanger as if nothing is wrong.

“You're late,” Andrew says between gritted teeth as he stalks towards Aaron.

“What?” Aaron asks in confusion and bends down to untie his shoes.

“If you come home late you have to text and let me know.”

“I'm not even that late, just a few minutes and-”

“Fourteen.”

“What?”

“Not a few minutes. Fourteen minutes.”

Aaron sighs as he stands back up, confusion written all over his face. 

Fourteen minutes of Andrew picturing Aaron's cold body in a back alley, on a white hospital bed, in a closet, in the middle of an empty street. 

Fourteen minutes of Andrew picturing Aaron's vacant eyes staring at the sky, his pale skin tinted blue with death, his chest unmoving, his heart still.

Fourteen minutes of Andrew recalling Aaron's cold fingers in his hand, his icy forehead under his lips.

Fourteen minutes of waiting for his phone to ring, for the Doctor’s voice to inform him that his brother had died.

“I'm sorry,” Aaron says but it comes out as a question.

“Whatever,” Andrew replies before leaving a confused Aaron at the door and locking himself in the bathroom.

“Tell me something,” he says on the phone, his arms tightly wrapped around his legs as he sits in the corner between the sink and the wall.

He doesn't listen as Neil talks about his day, about practice, about anything and everything that comes to his mind. He lets Neil's calm and soothing voice wash over him, until it seeps into his brain, into his bones. Until breathing doesn't hurt anymore and the ants have left his body.

“Why won't you tell me what's wrong?” Neil asks on the other line, his voice full of worry.

“Aaron,” he says, his brother's name burning his lips as it leaves his mouth.

“Is he sick?”

“I just need to make sure he doesn't do something stupid and accidentally kills himself in the process.”

“You think he's going to?”

“I know he is.”

“Alright,” Neil says with a sigh. “But you have to promise me something.”

Andrew humms.

“Don't hurt yourself while trying to help him.”

Andrew stays silent for a second. There is nothing that he wouldn't be willing to do if it means saving Aaron from his fate, “I can't promise that.”

“Andrew-”

“He's my brother, Neil.”

“Does he even want to be? He just left you and Nicky and never looked back. Why would you put your mental well being at risk after all of your hard work for someone who wouldn't do the same for you?”

“That's not how it works.”

“What?” Neil asks.

“This is not a deal or a transaction. I'm helping him because I don't want him to be dead, not because I want him to do the same for me, not because I want him to give me something back,” he takes a deep breath and shakes his head even if Neil can't see him. “I just don't want him to be dead.”

“Fine just- just be careful and call me when you need to.”

“I will.”

A knock on the door interrupts Neil in the middle of a sentence, “I made dinner,” Aaron's soft voice comes from the other side when Ansrew doesn't reply. 

“I have to go,” he says.

“Call me,” Neil replies before hanging up.

They eat dinner quietly on the couch, the sound of Aaron chewing something crunchy loud in the silent room.

"If you still want I have the list” Aaron says with downcast eyes.

“Then get it,” he replies after another long silence.

Andrew watches as Aaron rushes towards his bedroom, his bowl hastily placed on the coffee table.

Why are you so different, he wants to ask but doesn't.

“Here,” Aaron says a few seconds later as he hands him a wrinkled piece of lined paper, Aaron's elegant handwriting filling the page.

Andrew just nods at the paper and places it on the sofa by his side.

“You're not going to look at it?”

“I'm eating,” Andrew replies.

Aaron nods, his lower lip trapped between his teeth, a dot of blood staining his skin.

“Stop that and eat,” Andrew says, tapping Aaron's chin with his finger.

For a second it looks like Aaron is going to say something but before anything can come spilling out of his mouth, Aaron shakes his head and goes back to his dinner.

♧♧

“We're going for a picnic,” he tells Aaron on Wednesday, a week and a day after Aaron's death.

“What?” Aaron asks as he looks away from the open book on his lap.

“It's in your list, isn't it?” 

“I mean, yeah but-”

“You have an hour to get ready. Chop chop.”

The sun is high in the sky by the time they reach the park. It's still a little cold outside, the air a little chilly, the sun a little weak.

“This is so nice,” Aaron says as he fiddles with the hem of the table cloth that Andrew had placed on the ground. There is a smile that Aaron is trying to hide on lips and it makes the ants under Andrew's skin disappear for a second.

“I always saw families having picnics when I was in primary school,” he tells Andrew as he bites the tuna, mayo and lettuce sandwich they had bought at the café near that park. “It would be better if Nicky were here too.”

Andrew just hums in reply.

“What's your favourite sandwich?” Aaron asks, trying to fill the silence.

“Probably-”

“Wait,” Aaron interrupts him. “I'll try to guess.”

Andrew looks at him a little puzzled as Aaron furrows his brows, a look of deep concentration painted on his face.

“I've got it,” he says after a few seconds, a crumb of white bread falling from the corner of his mouth. “Pulled pork with BBQ sauce.”

Andrew just nods.

“Now you,” Aaron says as he takes another bite from his sandwich.

“Me what?”

“Guess my favourite,” Aaron says, sounding a little too excited, his smile too bright.

“It's not that hard to guess. It's the same as mine. It's what we always got from highschool to college.”

“Mine is meatballs,” Aaron says quietly as he takes another bite of his sandwich.

“Since when?” Andrew asks. It had been years since the two of them had last eaten a sandwich together. Andrew can't help but to wonder what more he missed in Aaron's life.

“Since I was seven and a guy from school gave me a piece of his because I didn't have anything to eat,” Aaron says calmly without looking at Andrew. “I hate BBQ sauce.”

“But we always for pulled pork and BBQ,” Andrew says. It was their favourite, they would always eat it together for dinner after school.

Aaron just shrugs, “It was your favourite,” he says.

“But you-” Andrew begins but is interrupted by a ball landing on his leg.

“I'm so sorry,” a kid shouts as he runs towards them with his brother behind him. “We are so sorry. It was an accident.”

“It's fine, no one got hurt,” Aaron says, picking up the red ball and giving it back to the kid. “Just be more careful next time.”

“Oh my god it's clones,” the smaller child says while hiding behind his brother. “Like in star wars.”

“It's twins you idiot,” the older brother reprimands him as they run away. 

♧♧

When Aaron gets back home on Thursday's evening at 9:45, he looks tired and upset. His shoulders are hunched, his movements slow, his eyes never once lift from the floor.

“What's wrong?” Andrew asks from where he's sitting on the couch.

“Just a bad day at work,” Aaron replies, his voice so low Andrew has to strain to hear him.

“Come,” he says, patting the couch.

“I just want to-”

“Come,” Andrew says again.

Aaron trudges towards the couch and Andrew can see a little tremor in his hands. He looks for signs of drug use but comes up empty.

“Speak,” he says as soon as Aaron is sitting on the couch by his side, his chin resting on his knees as he hugs his legs to his chest, his dirty shoes on the couch.

Aaron opens his mouth but no words leave his lips, just a shaky breath.

“It's okay,” he says as he watches the tremble in Aaron's lips. “Take a deep breath.”

Aaron shakes his head, his eyes wet, “I told his brother it was going to be fine but I-” a dry sob breaks Aaron’s sentence right in the middle. “It was just a little kid and it wasn't even- it really wasn't-”

“It's okay, Aaron,” he says even if he knows it's not.

“And his brother was just there alone and I told him- Andrew I told him that it would- that it would be fine,” there are tears running down his reddened cheeks.

“Can I touch you?” Andrew asks and waits for Aaron to nod his permission before taking Aaron's hand into his own. “You did what you could.”

Aaron closes his eyes for a second, “Can you-” he shakes his head.

“Can I what?”

“Nothing. It was silly.”

“Tell me,” Andrew says. “I'll decide if it's silly.”

A pause and then, “Can you sleep in my bed tonight?”

There is a longer pause, silence fills the room as Andrew thinks it over.

“I told you it was silly,” Aaron says, his eyes now open. “Forget about it.”

Andrew stays quiet for another second, “We can,” he says.

He waits for Aaron's breathing to go back to normal, for the tears to stop flowing down his cheeks, for the tremor in his hands to subside, and then he helps his brother back on his feet and towards his room. Aaron's legs are still shaky, his hold on Andrew's hand tight.

“I'll go wash up,” Aaron says, taking his pyjamas from where he had thrown it that morning and heading for the bathroom.

Andrew sits on the side of Aaron's bed as he waits, scanning the room. He finds it to be more tidy than it had been when Aaron had died, but still disorganised and messy.

“Why is it so messy?” he asks when Aaron walks back into the room. “You always used to keep everything tidy and in perfect order.”

“I just-” Aaron shakes his head and lets the sentence die. Andrew looks at him.

“Come on then,” he pulls down the covers and lies under them. He had missed sleeping in a real bed.

“You don't have to,” Aaron says standing in front of the bed.

“I know,” Ansrew replies. “It's my choice. Just don't touch me.”

“I won't,” his brother reassures him before climbing on the bed.

They lie in silence for a while, Andrew on his back, Aaron on his side, his eyes trained on Andrew.

“You're staring at me,” he says as he looks at Aaron from the corner of his eye.

“When I was a kid,” Aaron whispers as if he were sharing a secret. “I always wanted a brother to share everything with.”

Andrew hums in reply.

“I wanted to build a fort with covers and cushions that only me and my brother could enter. Our secret place where we would always be safe and never lonely.”

Andrew turns on his side and looks at his brother in the quiet dark.

“Goodnight Aaron,” he says, placing his hand on top of Aaron's.

“Goodnight Andrew.”

♧♧

“We are going to the market,” he tells Aaron Friday morning as soon as Aaron leaves his room

“I need to be at the hospital at 1 pm,” Aaron replies.

Andrew nods, “We're leaving in an hour.”

Andrew had never been to a farmers market before nor had he ever wanted to go to a farmers market.

“This is so fun,” Aaron is saying as Andrew tries to dodge the crowd of people that is flowing around him. “Look.”

Andrew isn't sure what Aaron is pointing at, nor does he care that much. The crowd is overwhelming, people constantly bumping into him and touching his body.

They walk around for a while, Aaron pointing to flowers and plants, fruits and vegetables as if he were in a museum instead of a street market.

“Did you know that to make just one pound of honey it takes 2 million flowers?” Aaron asks as they walk past a stand of honey. “Do you like honey?”

“What?” Andrew asks, distracted by a woman who bumped into him.

“You like sweets, so I was wondering if you like honey.”

“I don't know. Never tried.”

“Oh then I should totally buy you some. Come on,” Aaron says walking towards the honey vendor.

“Do you like honey?” Andrew asks as they wait for their turn.

“It's not really something you can eat spoonfuls of or you'll get sick, but I like it.”

They sit on a bench away from the crowd as soon as they buy the honey.

“Here, taste,” Aaron says, scooping some honey on the wooden spoon the vendor had given them.

Honey is sticky and sweet and it makes Andrew's throat burn a little because of the overwhelming sweetness.

“You don't like it?” Aaron asks with a little frown on his face.

Andrew shakes his head.

“Sorry,” Aaron mutters while closing the honey lid.

“What are you apologising for?”

“I thought you would have liked it,” Aaron shrugs.

Andrew just stares at him confused, his face blank.

“It's whatever,” Aaron says as he gets back up on his feet. “We should go home.”

Andrew watches as Aaron throws the jar of honey in the first street bin they find while they head towards Andrew's car.

♧♧

“Neil's playing today,” Aaron says on Sunday as Andrew is cooking dinner.

“Yeah,” Andrew replies because he noticed Aaron hates not receiving a reply.

“Do you want to watch the game?” he asks but then immediately turns on the TV without waiting for Andrew's reply.

When he goes into the living room with their dinner (Aaron's favourite italian pasta), the game has already started and Aaron is comfortably sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, a fluffy blue blanket around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Aaron says with a smile, taking one of the plates from Andrew's outstretched hand and placing it on his legs. “It just started so you didn't miss much.”

It surprises Andrew how much Aaron talks during the game, how much he notices about the players and their plays, how much he knows about Andrew's team.

“Yeah, he's been doing that the whole season. He really needs to work on that.”

“You've been keeping up with the championship?” Andrew asks.

“Not really, I just watch the games where you, Kevin or Matt play.”

Andrew purses his lips as a mix of emotions explode in his chest. He wants to dig deeper, to ask why. Aaron never showed up for the foxes reunions at Wymack’s place, he cut all contact with everyone, he never once showed any interest in anyone, any will to be their friend. 

Andrew wonders when had Aaron stopped making sense. He wonders if Aaron had ever made sense in the first place at all or if Andrew had made up a version of his brother in his head that had never once been real.

They spend the rest of the evening watching the game, a little smile on Aaron's lips as his hands flail around when he tries to explain sometimes to Andrew.

Could it have always been this easy? He wonders. Did Aaron have to die twice for them to finally spend time together like normal people?

Maybe, Andrew thinks, maybe everything can be fixed.

♧♧

“We are going to the zoo,” he tells Aaron on Monday morning while Aaron is still lying in his bed.

“What?” he asks, his voice low and full of sleep.

“Get ready, we're leaving in an hour.”

Andrew hates the zoo. It's boring and uninteresting. He doesn't care about where any of the animals came from nor from what they had been saved. It's cold and cloudy and the tips of his fingers are frozen. But the zoo was on Aaron's list and it seems to be working perfectly as a distraction: Aaron keeps speed-walking from one enclosure to the next, reading out facts that he seems to find interesting and cool. 

“And this one was saved after hunters shot him down and he lost his ability to fly,” Aaron says after three long and excruciating hours of walking around the zoo surrounded by screaming children and annoying adults. “Isn't that so heartwarming?”

“Heartwarming?” he asks, focusing on the sad little bird sitting in the middle of a huge green field.

“Someone found him when he was just about to die and decided that he was worthy of being saved. They took care of him and gave him a new home.”

“He's a bird who can't fly. Alone in a huge field. It would've been more merciful to just let him die. What kind of life is this?” 

He can feel Aaron's gaze on him as he looks at the bird but when he turns towards him, Aaron's eyes are back on the bird. He doesn't look excited anymore, his gaze soft and sad, something that Andrew can't decipher in his expression.

“It's almost lunch time,” Aaron says, looking away from the bird. “We should go home.”

♧♧

“Next time you are the one who has to visit,” Andrew says on Tuesday morning as he packs his bag. “We should also invite Nicky,” he adds.

“Sure,” Aaron says but there is something strange behind his eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, just- I'm just very very tired,” Aaron says, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You are not feeling like you're going to relapse, right?” Andrew asks, staring right into Aaron's eyes.

“What? No. No I don't,” Aaron replies, his eyebrows knitted together. 

“Promise.”

“I promise,” Aaron says lightly.

“This is very serious Aaron. Promise me you won't touch any type of drug for any reason.”

“Andrew. I promise I won't touch any type of drug. Unless I'm administering it to a patient. Good?”

“Good.”

“Can I- Nothing,” Aaron says with a shake of his head.

“Tell me.”

“It's silly. Forget about it.”

“I'll decide if it's silly,” Andrew says.

“Can I hug you goodbye?”

Andrew is silent for a second. He can't remember ever hugging Aaron in his life. Not once.

“Yes,” he says.

Aaron moves slowly towards him, as if walking towards an easily spooked animal, afraid that I'll run away. When he's finally standing in front of Andrew, he carefully lifts his arms and places them around Andrew's neck, his cheek resting on his brother's shoulder. Andrew can feel Aaron’s warm breaths on his neck, his brother's heartbeat pounding on his body where their chests are touching. 

Aaron is alive. His brother is still alive.

He tightens his hold around Aaron's waist. He had never hugged his brother before, he thinks again. In two other lives Aaron had died without ever getting to hug his brother. 

Andrew could've gone his whole life without ever getting to share something as trivial and mundane as a hug between brothers.

♧♧

It's Tuesday, the twenty-second of May at six in the afternoon when Andrew's phone rings, the soft voice of a doctor on the other side, the words coming out of her mouth venomous and wrong, lies that Andrew can't comprehend, can't accept.

“That's impossible,” he says getting up from his couch. “Aaron promised he wouldn't touch any drugs. He promised me.”

Aaron promised. He had promised.

“Drugs?” the Doctor asks. “I'm really sorry for the misunderstanding Mr. Minyard but Doctor Minyard's cause of death isn't drug related.”

“What? He didn't overdose?”

“No, Sir. Your brother he- he I'm so sorry. He jumped off a bridge. I'm so sorry.”

Aaron had always claimed that he didn't feel like he was going to relapse. Why hadn't Andrew believed him.

He had been asking the wrong question the whole time. He had tried to solve the wrong problem.

Can I hug you goodbye? Aaron had asked a few hours ago.

Yes, Andrew had replied.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SECRET RECIPE

A/N: its out last sunday fic of fanficmas! still working on the second christmas fic, i got into a bit of a delay but im hoping to finish it on time!

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

SUMMARY: Christmas time brings some worries and surprises and of course lots of love in the life of Nan and Harry.

MORE FROM THE NAN&HARRY UNIVERSE

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

 Harry’s in the middle of recording a verse for a new song he’s been working on for the past days when the music cuts off and he looks at the technician through the window with a confused expression.

“What happened?” he asks, pulling the headphones off. Jim, the technician presses a button and speaks into the mic that carries sound into the booth.

“Man, your phone is blowing up.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just call them back,” he shrugs.

“It’s Y/N. She’s called like six times in the past two minutes.”

His stomach churns.

He’s fast to exit the booth, fetching his phone from one of the seats. You know he’s at the studio and wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency.

“Let’s take five,” he says, unlocking his phone and opening his call log, seeing all the missed calls from you. Jim knows it’s his cue to leave, he walks out without a word as Harry dials your number, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Harry!” you answer out of breath.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m on my way to the hospital.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Harry, it’s not me, it’s Nan,” you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m on my way,” he says, packing up his things immediately.

Jim doesn’t fuss when Harry ends the session early. He jumps into his car and you tell him what happened as he heads to the hospital as well. Nan apparently went on a date and out of all the activities she could have done with her date, she went skating.

“What was she thinking?!” he snaps, smacking his hand against the steering wheel when he has to stop at a red light.

“I just arrived, how far are you?”

“Ten minutes away.”

“Alright, meet you here.”

Harry soon arrives at the hospital and parks his car down in a frenzy, rushing inside. The nurse behind the desk recognizes him right away, but before she could start fangirling, you come up to him running.

“Hey! There you are,” you exhale, hugging him tight.

“How is she?”

“She fractured her hip, can you believe it?”

“For real, I love her more than anything, but sometimes she can act like a child,” he shakes his head in disapproval.

Walking down the hallways you stop at room 102 and Harry follows you inside. Nan is right there, lying in bed, chatting with the nurse, already telling her about recipes and gardening.

“I promise you Sweetheart, that’s the key to the perfect banana bread!” she explains and her face lights up when she sees the two of you flood into the room. “Harry! So good to see you!”

“Nan, what did you do?” he questions right away, ignoring the way the nurse blushes upon seeing him before walking out of the room.

“Oh, nothing crazy, don’t worry about me!”

“Skating at your age is actually crazy, Nan,” you shake your head, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt her.”

“Aye, watch your mouth!” she wiggles a finger at you, but you just roll your eyes at her.

“Let’s start at the very beginning. You were on a date?!” Harry gawks at her, standing over you. Most of his worry is gone, seeing Nan be her usual sweet but sassy self.

“Oh, we’re not talking about that,” Nan waves around, but there’s no way Harry will just drop it like that.

“No, no, no, you’re not getting away with it! You didn’t tell us! Who was he anyway?”

“It’s none of your business! I’m a big girl!” she jokes.

“Yes, but going on a date is something you share with your family, don’t you think?” you ask, giving her hand a squeeze. “You demanded to know everything about my first date with Harry, it’s not fair you keep things like this from us!”

“Frank’s daughter works at the flower shop on Ernest Road. I’ve run into him several times before and we’ve had some pleasant conversations. He asked me out and I said yes, that’s it,” she shrugs, fixing her hair just to avoid looking at you or Harry.

“And you didn’t have a better idea than skating? Nan, you have to be careful!”

“I used to be a great skater in high school!” she protests like a little kid, Harry needs to bite a smile back.

“Oh my God,” you pinch the bride of your nose. “I’m gonna get you something to drink. Harry, stay with her so she doesn’t go skydiving or something,” you mumble as you walk out of the room.

“I’m kind of offended, Nan,” Harry places a hand over his chest, stepping closer to her bed. “I thought I was your guy.”

“Oh, Harry!” she sighs. “You know you’re my number one,” she chuckles, a slight blush tinting her cheeks that just makes Harry even more confident about himself.

“Apparently Frank took my place!” he scoffs dramatically. “I need to meet him, Nan. I’m not gonna let him just steal you away like that, I have to make sure you’re in good hands!”

“Please, don’t act like I’m getting engaged!” she chuckles. “It was just a date!”

“Yeah, but then more dates come and next thing we know you’re walking down the aisle!”

Nan lets out a belly laugh that soon turns into a wince and Harry instantly regrets joking around.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she assures him when he moves to check her. “Harry, I’m just looking for some company, I won’t remarry.”

“I know,” his gaze softens, sitting down to the edge of her bed. “And I want you to have fun, but you need to be more careful. You’re sturdy, but not indestructible, okay?”

“I know,” she sighs. “Just wanted to have some fun like when I was younger.”

“We’ll find another way that doesn’t include fractured hips,” he smirks at her.

Harry has been MIA for hours. It’s not unusual when he���s at the studio, but you know for a fact he has the day off, so why isn’t he answering your texts?

You keep wondering as your work day drags by and when you finally head home, you try to call him again. It rings and rings and you’re starting to get anxious that something might have happened to him. When you think it will go unanswered the ringing finally breaks and a familiar voice answers, but it doesn’t belong to your fiancé.

“Y/N? Hi!” Nan’s upbeat voice welcomes you and relief washes over you.

“Nan? Would you mind telling where my man is?” you chuckle as you get into the car. The phone connects and the answer comes through the speakers.

“Oh, he is just up on my roof!” she says as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“What?” you chuckle in disbelief. “Why?”

“He’s helping me decorate! Showed up here this morning, he’s been doing all the work all day!”

“Oh God, of course he did,” you chuckle.

It’s been a week since Nan’s skating accident and she’s been miserable because she can’t get around like she usually does. She has someone from the family checking up on her every day and a nurse comes by in the morning and in the night too, but you all know how much she hates to be in need of help. You keep telling her it’s just temporary, she’s been having a great recovery, but she needs to be more patient with herself.

Harry must have wanted to make her feel better, she’s been moping about not being able to decorate like she usually does, so your fiancé probably took matters into his own hands.

Without thinking twice, you head over to Nan’s place to check up on both of them. When you arrive, you’re glad to see all the décor Nan whips out every year. Lights are running along the edge of the roof, huge candy canes are peeking out of the ground in the garden up front and garlands are snaking up the columns of the front porch. And the last touch? Santa’s sleigh is on the roof, Nan’s favorite décor every kid adores around the neighborhood.

You knock on the front door with a goofy grin, looking at the snowman ornament hanging on it. The door flies open and you’re met with your lover.

“Hey there,” he smirks and pulling you inside he greets you with a big kiss on your cold lips.

“Hi! Nan said you’ve turned into her little elf for the day,” you chuckle, enjoying the warmth inside as Harry takes your coat.

“I did the best I could,” he smirks shyly.

“Y/N! Hi!” Nan cheers from her armchair, her cane resting against the side of it. Before she could try to push herself up to greet you, which for sure she plans to, you rush over and plant a smooching kiss to her cheek, stopping her from moving.

“Stay, Nan. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had a great day with Harry. Did you see the décor outside?” she beams.

“I did, looks great,” you smile at her.

Harry makes some tea and the three of you sit by the fireplace. Nan is obviously happy to have company and you’re glad to be spending time with her. She really scared you with her little accident earlier, she got lucky, it could have turned out to be way worse.

“Alright, you two head home and be together,” she sighs, checking the time and seeing how late it has gotten.

“We’re happy to be here, Nan,” Harry smiles, taking her empty mug and heading to the kitchen to clean up.

“Y/N, give me that box over there,” she gestures at a little wooden box on the shelves next to the fireplace. You obey and hand her the box, watching her dig into the stack of papers inside. “Here, this is for you,” she hands one over and you take it, scanning over it curiously.

“What’s thi— Oh. This is… This is your secret recipe. Your gingersnap cookies…”

“I want you to have it.”

“But why? You haven’t given it to any of my cousins yet,” you look at her with wide eyes.

This recipe comes from Nan’s grandma, so it’s been in the family for a long time. Every woman eventually gets it, your mom has it too, but she can only pass it on to the generation coming after you, that’s the rule. Nan hasn’t passed it on to anyone and you and your cousins have been wondering who’ll get it first.

She chose you. Though you would have sworn your cousin Riley would be the first, she is the first who got pregnant and now has two kids.

“Because what you and Harry have reminds me the most of what I had with Steven. Riley’s husband would have never spent the day here, climbing on my roof and hanging ornaments. And Lydia… God, I’m afraid she will never settle!” she chuckles, bringing up your female cousins. “You two… are something truly special and soon you’ll finally get married. I want you to know how to make it by the time you’ll have babies.”

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek as you lean closer and give her a hug.

“Thank you, Nan,” you whisper, kissing her cheek right when Harry walks back in. He looks startled to see you crying.

“Woah, did I miss something?” he cautiously asks, but you just shake your head chuckling.

“Everything is perfect, don’t worry,” Nan smiles up at him. You give Harry a look that tells him to just drop it and so he nods.

The nurse arrives to help Nan get ready for bed when you leave and you hug her just a few moments longer than you usually do before walking out.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Harry asks when you’re home, standing side by side in the bathroom, doing your usual night time routine.

“Nan gave me her gingersnap cookie recipe,” you say with a smile as you brush your hair, looking at him from the mirror. For a moment, he rakes his mind to figure out what it means and when he does, his eyes go wide.

“Oh! You’re the first one then!” he beams at you proudly.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “She said that what we have reminds her of what she had with Pa.”

“That’s very sweet,” he smiles, brushing a hand across your back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“She also brought up us having babies, I think she is getting impatient,” you add with a little laugh as you turn around and lean against the sink to face him.

“Wow, she can never have enough!” he grins. “I got comments on proposing to you for months and now that we have the date reserved she found something else to poke me about!”

“She’s not rushing us, you know. Just wants to see us become parents.”

“Soon,” he smiles and stepping closer his hands find your waist. “First, let’s make us official. Then we can move on to baby making.”

“So… that’s the plan?” you tilt your head to the side.

“Is it not?”

“I don’t know,” you chew your bottom lip.

“Y/N? Want to share something with me?” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was just thinking… We’re getting married in February. It’s not that far away, maybe we could… start trying sooner? It might not happen right away and if it does, it wouldn’t even show at the wedding…”

For some reason you feel so nervous about proposing your idea. You’ve talked about trying for a baby next year, you’re very much on the same page so even if he says no for now, you’d definitely start in a few months. You just figured that maybe you could start sooner.

Harry gently cradles your face in his hands, a tiny smile tugging on the edges of his mouth.

“So… we should just drop the pills, hm?”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, only if you’re okay with it. We don’t have to if you—“

He presses his lips to your lips, melting away your nervousness instantly as he kisses you softly but passionately.

“I’m more than okay, Y/N. I know you’re it for me, we don’t have to wait for a certain date to start trying.”

You can’t stop your growing smile as you look up at him.

“Okay. No more pills then,” you bite into your bottom lip.

“And a lot of baby making,” he smirks cockily, sweeping off your feet and carrying you into the bedroom. You’re a giggling mess as he throws you to the mattress, but they soon die down when he gets on top of you, occupying your lips with something much more exciting.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 6. Halcyon

Characters: Wuk Lamat, Gulool Ja Ja, Koana, V'anille Tia, U'rahn Nuhn, Zoraal Ja, Y'zel Tia, Bakool Ja Ja, Gulool Ja, Krile Mayer, G'raha Tia, Violet Fisher, Alisaie Leveilleur Expansion: Dawntrail Rating: T Summary: Lamaty'i's perfect day.

“Papa! Papa! Watch this!”

Wuk Lamat let out a little howl of excitement as she launched herself up in the air, spiking a blue and white ball with her ball toward Koana as the Head of Resolve turned to watch while crunching loudly on a rather large taco. Koana rushed forward but found himself stumbling into the sand, letting the ball bounce beside him then whiz past toward V’anille at the aetheric barrier the former had created to make use as a goal. A loud victory fanfare played across the beach as Wuk Lamat let out a “Wahoo!” and turned to give a high-ten to U'rahn at their goal.

“Well done Lamaty'i,” Gulool Ja Ja praised, giving a booming clap of his hands together. “Though we shall see your victory short lived once Zoraal Ja is ready to play. Isn't that right son?”

Zoraal Ja let out a grunt of acknowledgement, narrowing his eyes as he rolled his shoulders only to straighten up and let out a surprised gasp as a pair of hands slid down his back.

“Sit still will you! Your scales will dry out from the salt if you don't let me do this,” a pink-haired Miqo'te scolded, popping up from behind Zoraal Ja’s back, rubbing lotion over his arms.

“Sorry,” Zoraal mumbled, facing away from his family. 

Wuk Lamat crossed her arms and leaned toward Koana as he brushed the sand off his body and readjusted his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Hey. Who's that all over Zoraal Ja?”

“I believe it is the Doman Consort, Y'zel Tia,” Koana responded.

“Ooooooh. I didn't think Zoraal Ja would let anyone get that close to him…if he wasn't trying to stab them,” Wuk Lamat mused before covering her mouth with her paw. “Are they…?”

“That is none of our businesses Lamaty'i. You've already proposed on one brother’s behalf. At this rate you'll be playing matchmaker for father too,” Koana sighed before idly playing with his wedding ring as he looked over to V'anille smiling and giving him a little wave then jumping as a loud popping sound shot across the beach. 

“Aw…my ball,” U’rahn whined, slumping a little as his ears drooped as Bakool Ja Ja lifted his foot and peeled the flattened off his foot.

“Why did you do that Bakool Ja Ja!?” Wuk Lamat demanded, tail flicking up in anger as she stomped a foot into the sand.

Bakool Ja Ja cowered back a bit. “I just…,” the Mystic started.

“I just wanted to play too,” Mighty finished before shoving a bag into Wuk Lamat’s arms before running away with tears in his eyes.

“Not again,” Y'zel sighed, finishing rubbing scale lotion on Zarool Ja’s cheeks before hurrying off after Bakool Ja Ja, looking back to fall. “Make sure the Dawnservant is covered too!’

Wuk Lamat blinked then opened the bag, finding a party sized amount of Anut Tii’s Tacos inside. “Oh! That dummy. He should have just said so.”

“But uh…you're the one that yelled at him,” U’rahn pointed out while Gulool Ja Ja joined them in the sand.

The Dawnservant scratched at his chin of Resolve, watching Bakool Ja Ja get chased down by Y'zel, many people leaping out of his path. “I think he likes you Lamaty'i.”

The bag of tacos fell to the ground, Wuk Lamat's jaw dropping as her eyes widened up at her father. “Papa! No! Don't be gross! He does not,” Wuk Lamat protested, her face heating up.

“I will have to keep closer watch on him,” Koana said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose while Zoraal Ja wandered over, hand on the hilt of one of his blades.

“You're all the worst! Cut it out! Right now,” Wuk Lamat demanded.

“Is Auntie Lamaty'i going to marry Bakool Ja Ja?” Gulool Ja’s voice sounded out from behind.

Gulool Ja Ja let out a ground shaking laugh as Wuk Lamat wheeled around, finding her nephew holding a rather large ice cream, G'raha Tia and Krile accompanying him, both trying to politely hide their snickering behind their own cones.

“No! Never! Everyone better cut it out right now!” Wuk Lamat demanded, eyes welling up as the teasing got to her.

“Alright Lamaty'i. We’ll stop,” Galool Ja Ja soothed, patting his daughter's back gently before looking to his grandson with his ice cream. “Why don't you show Grandpa where you got that? He could use a treat.”

“Okay! This way,” Gulool Ja said excitedly, hurrying off back the way he came, the Dawnservant following.

“Aw. I wanted to Papa to get a chance to play with us,” Wuk Lamat whined as U'rahn went blue in the face behind her trying to blow up his ball again.

“If you can't play your silly game then we can entertain ourselves with practice combat,” Zoraal Ja said, unsheathing his blades.

Wuk Lamat turned, looking at her elder brother as he attempted a smile. She took a step back then let her ears perk as Violet’s voice called out, “Lamaty'i! Stop playing with boys and come swiven join us already!”

“Oh! Maybe next time brother! It seems like it is girl's night! Why don't you train with Koana? Or U'rahn! He's indestructible,” she said, backing away with her paws back before looking around Zoraal Ja as U'rahn flopped backward into the sand out of breath, “Um..mostly.”

With that, she turned heel and hurried to join Violet and Alisae at the bar in Xbalyav T’ve. Taking a seat, she beamed then pulled over and ordered a pineapple cup before spinning around on her stool. Violet hummed, sipping at some sort of dark coloured liquor while Alisae nursed a virgin daiquiri. She brushed her hair from her face as she looked out toward the horizon, the setting sun starting to let pinks and blues paint the sky. The boys out in the sand scuffled about, playing fighting until suddenly fleeing as Gulool Ja Ja jumped in with his swords drawn then seized up as his back gave out again.

“Oh Papa,” Wuke Lamat sighed with a little smile, setting her drink aside before running out to join her brother’s in trying to get the Dawnservant back up on his feet again.

-

V’anille frowned as he found Lamaty’i smiling and hunched over her writing desk beside a stack of unfinished paperwork while Koana shook his head and sighed behind him. “Oh Papa, you’re getting too old for this…,” Lamaty’i said in her sleep.

“Should I wake her,” V’anille asked, looking to his husband as he moved the paperwork to see if there was something he could do for her.

“No. She seems to be enjoying herself. Let her have rest,” Koana said, draping a blanket over his sister’s shoulders before kissing the top of her head then taking V’anille’s hand to lead him out of the room and back to their chambers to let Lamaty’i enjoy her dream a little longer.

[mandy-asimp]

Shut up and Dance!

Aaron Hotchner x fem! Reader.

No warnings (shocker I feel)

Just something slight

Hailey and Jack don't exsist for this

Heavily influenced by this songs

"Nah, listen. I want me a man who's going to give me everything. I want to be worshipped. I want to be adored. I want to be his every waking thought. Like I want him to think of cheating and then knowing how dumb that would be," Y/n sat at the dinner table.

"So you want a fictional man?" Emily came to the table, sitting on the same side as Y/n. The two blondes across sharing a look.

"Listen, finding the right man takes time. I didn't meet will till our late twenties. You still have time. Plus me and Will aren't even married." The blonde sighed. "I mean honestly, I get it's about finding the time, but I don't know if he's planning to propose ever."

"Kevin hasn't even asked me to be his girlfriend." Penelope huffed. "It's so obvious I want to be dating, but every time we go out and there's an opening, he misses it."

Emily took a sip of her drink with a smile, "told you, you're looking for a fictional man."

Y/n gave a head shake and let her head hang in defeat. "One day, there will be a man. But until then I'll be your single gal."

"Cheers to that!" Emily raised her glass. Listening as the others laughed and met her glass. Everyone downing the small fruity drinks. "And hey think about it, if you don't find someone, I'm sure Hotch would humor you!"

The joke made a small smile appear, "that's just wrong." Was all Y/n said. Thankful for when their phones dinged with a case. "So much for a break. This is what, the fifth case with no real break?"

"Serial killers never respect our time." Penelope frowned.

Each three down a twenty and got into their cars. Driving back to the bureau in a line, following Emily.

Once they got there, they started the debrief. "Sorry to call you all back. I know we haven't gotten a chance to breathe yet but let's keep focus." Hotch had walked in, the folders in hand before passing them around and taking his seat next to Y/n.

"Right so, this is Delilah Pence. She and three other woman were found with several stab wounds to their torsos. They have bruises from being physically abused." He began covering what he had memorized.

Reid furrowed his brows, "what makes this were we need to cover it?"

That's when the photos were revealed. "Oh...is that..." JJ and Emily were closely examining the pictures together.

Y/n looked over to Hotch, personally finding the M.O to be a bit obvious. "I'd say it's a woman or an insecure man."

"Either or, wheels up in thirty." He dismissed, hoping that would give everyone time to get their go-bags together.

~~~

The case was over within a week, but it was still tiring. Everyone was helping pack up the files and papers.

"I don't know about you guys, but I could use a night out. Really just release all of the work that's been building up." Y/n put the box on the table, watching as Penelope scribbled a name onto the cardboard.

The sheriff had walked in, "There's a good club in town. They're usually packed on Friday nights but I'm sure I could make some arrangements. A thank you. They're know for dancing though." She offered, taking it as a yes as everyone's face lit up. She nodded and left, making her phone call.

"Let's run back to the hotel rooms and change before, get a fresh feeling." Derek smirked while grabbing his coat and leading everyone out.

By ten, the team was at a nice table and on their fifth round.

"Oh this is such a good song!" Penelope geeked before dragging everyone to the floor. Hotch and Rossi somehow managing to stay behind.

Hotch hadn't really drank much, knowing she only would drink half of her drinks, he finished the rest. "So when are you gonna propose to her?" Rossi peaked interest in the two's relationship.

"We've been busy for a few weeks. We also always wanted to make sure we were stable before making any big commitments." He explained, his eyes never leaving her.

Rossi smiled slightly, "and now? What's the excuse? You're both stable financially, you're both still young. What if she wants kids? You're at the perfect age you two."

"Maybe soon. I have a ring, she sketched it in high school. It's crazy to think we went to same high school but met in college." He began to think of how Y/n and him met.

Rossi bobbed his head, "yes I've heard very lightly of this story. From both perspectives."

Hotch cracked a smile. "She loves telling it. She tells it better as well. She'd be a great mother with how she can tell a story." He felt a tug at his heart at the thought.

Y/n, the mother of his kids. A little family. He knew she wanted kids, she talked about it for years. Her eyes always sparkling with how she planned her future.

"She's good for you Aaron." Rossi finalized before going to order a few shots of whiskey. Not taking more than ten minutes to get back.

He had ordered a few for whoever came back to the table. Not being surprised when it was Y/n and Reid who came back.

"Genius, you're definitely taking a shot. It'll help warm up your body." Y/n giggled in her tipsy state. "I'll take one with you."

Reid was going to pass the deal, but he figured...one can't hurt right? "Fine."

And they both shot back the dark liquor and both made a face. Earning laughs from the other four as they came back to the table as well.

"Tired already?" Hotch joked as they all took their seats again.

The song had switched over, and Y/n concealed her excitement. Wanting to wait for the perfect moment before whisking Aaron away to the dance floor. Pleased when he hadn't noticed the song.

"No, we just saw a party of shots and wanted to get in on it." Emily pointed to the shots that were empty.

"Plus when someone couldn't keep up with us on the floor," Derek pointed towards Y/n. Making fun of how she was the first one to walk off.

Aaron smiled a bit more, "you're holding back?" He glanced over to Y/n who was already looking at him. Mischief in her eyes as she grabbed his arm and rushed him to the floor.

"Shut up and dance with me," she laughed as they easily fell into the song. Dancing like they did when they were young.

Meanwhile the team was abso-fucking-lutely baffled. "For how long?" Penelope almost screamed to Rossi. Growing a bit more upset when the man just took a sip of his drink.

And for the song they watched as the two danced around as if they weren't being watched. Watching as their boss laughed once the song ended.

"When they come back, you ask no questions. Let them just be open tonight on their terms." Rossi pointed to the children. "Especially you," he looked to Garcia.

"Oh, come on Rossi! They kept a little secret and we wanna know more, what's the harm?" Derek tried to reason, only getting a disapproving head shake in return. "Well drop it for now! But they better know they have a long list of questions, she's never even posted anything to give us a hint. And she post a lot."

"Maybe it's new?" Reid shrugged the idea out. The conversation dropped as they watched you both leave hand in hand. "Maybe it's not. Where do you think they're going?"

"I bet we'll find out in the morning." Emily wiggled her eyebrows and shimmied her shoulders. "I can't believe it still. Just before the case she was taking about being single!"

JJ stared at the table as she thought. Realizing there was only one glass between the two the entire night and nobody noticed. "They shared drinks all night..." she pointed out. Making everyone count the drinks.

"So we know they're sneaky, that means this could've been happening." Penelope frowned, desperate for more information.

Derek suddenly thought. "Do they live together?"

"Are you serious?!" Penelope shot her head over to Rossi, praying he'd let this one detail up.

He shook his head again, "if I buy the another round will you all drop it?"

They agreed and their night went on. While Aaron and Y/n walked through the city and took in the light.

She held on his arm, stealing his warmth as they moved. Her mind thinking of how this is what she waited for. To be walking with the love of her life at night. The violin player in the park leading them to an even beautifuler sight.

Aaron couldn't help how she made him feel. It was almost instinct to spin her around and slowly dance around.

Y/n let out a few laughs at the actions. "Let me record so I can show our kids one day." She had smiled through the sentence. Propping the phone up against her bag and hitting record.

And they continued to dance. Aaron could tell she wanted to kiss him right there, but she was fighting against it. She had to pick between kissing him or enjoying the dance a little longer. "You're holding back." Would bring her back to the reality of it all.

Her smile would grow instantly at him. "Shut up and dance with me," she would respond and they would dance. Moving together with each note and laughing.

Once the player ended, Y/n moved to get cash for them. Dropping a ten into the case and turning back to...Aaron?

He was on one knee and fidgeting with a black box. "I love you beyond words." He started.

"Yes." Y/n choked out. Feeling to euphoric to even let him get everything out. Listening as he let out that carefree laugh. The one that speaks nothing bad could happen.

"I want you to be the mother of our kids, my forever. Since the dance in college. You grabbed my arm and I could only think about you being my destiny. I didn't let you go from there on out. Marry me?" He grinned as she bobbed her head. Accepting the ring and pulling him into a long, tearful, kiss.

She sniffled, "does this mean I get my big wedding? And we can also tell the team? And we can have the dream nursery?" She looked up at him. Feeling so love and happy.

Aaron nodded, "all our dreams are in our hands now. And I think they're waiting for a post of where we went." He reminded her of the bar, watching as her eyes went wide.

"I love you," she sighed. Feeling so content with life.

"I love you too," he leaned down to place a peck to her lips. "Penelope is going to be furious."

She chuckled, then thought about it, then full belly laughed. Even while grabbing her purse and phone, she was laughing. "I'll send her the video before posting it," she planned. "Let's just enjoy what time we have."

~~~

Awhile had passed, and the two had sent out their invitations to family, but wanted to give the team their invites in creative ways. Especially with the wedding only a week away.

The two had managed to plan everything else out and still keep their relationship quiet. Had played it like they were only a month dating when the team found out.

They first started with Rossi. Y/n had went into his office first. "Hey you know how to tell if jewelry's real or not right? I mean I can I just want a second opinion." She held out her hand to Rossi. Showing the ring off and he just laughed.

"It was the night at the bar wasn't it?" He sat up to really take in the ring. Just then Aaron came in. "You did well; so when's the wedding?" The invite got slid over, both smiling. "I think I can get something together by then. Does Strauss know?"

"We got the entire day covered. If any case appears, it's redirected for a short time." Aaron informed. "You just have to show up."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, congrats." He stood up. Exchanging kisses to both their cheeks.

Their next person was Reid. Who was with JJ at the time. They figured giving them both theirs wouldn't hurt.

Only Y/n did this one. "Someone looks happy." JJ felt her own smile form. That looks was familiar, and before y/n could even get it out, JJ already knew. She began to geek before the invitation was placed down.

"Wait, but didn't you two just start dating like six months ago?" Reid read over the paper. Enjoying how well put together it was.

Y/n bit her lip. "Listen. We met in college, and by my second year and his graduating year, we started dating." She confessed, trying to not laugh at how the jaws hit the floor. "Shhh! We haven't told Derek, Penelope, or Emily yet. But just know the day is already covered for us."

And they agreed to be there, talking about it even after she left them to continue the spread the invite.

It wasn't until the late lunch she went out with the two. Sitting across from them in the booth she could only smile. The entire time, she just had this smile they couldn't decipher.

"Alright listen, you've been smiling all lunch. So what is it? You and boss man finally said 'I love you'?" He made kissy noises. Gaining a laugh from Emily.

Y/n said nothing, instead she slid two even lips over with a straight face. It was hard as the two became mildly confused. They asked a few times what this was but once realizing they had to open it, they were shocked.

"But..." Emily looked up, eyes widening at the sight of the engend ring. "Holy shit! Boss man must really love you!"

Y/n was back to smiling again, "since college" was all she whispered. Her eyes shinning while looking at the ring. She couldn't help the scream of excitement, "I'm getting married!" She cried out. The restaurant laughing at her excitement.

Derek furrowed his brows while looking at the ring. "So you've been keeping him a secret?" He scoffed, really not knowing how they pulled it off. "How were you that sneaky?"

She winked and went back to eating. "We already have the day converted for everyone. It's gonna be good, promise."

The three talked a little more about the topic before heading back. Being greeted by an unhappy tech analysis.

"I would've liked an invite!" She stomped off. Feeling left out from the fun. She mumbled things to herself as Y/n followed. Letting it all out once the door closed. "I mean honestly! You guys are on cases together and I only get so much time with you all-"

"Penelope, I have something for you." Y/n cut her off. The pink envelop in hand now. "It's just something slight, nothing too extreme."

The blonde turned, almost glaring at the envelop. "It better be good. Not inviting me to lunch..." she shook her head as she opened it. There was a silence as she read over the car. "What?"

"Surprise!" Y/n shook her hands. The ring catching the attention. Her hand was yanked, "and another thing since we're laying out everything, it hasn't been six months. It's been seven years."

"Are you serious?" Penelope felt her mouth just hang open. "This is less than a week away, what about taking time off? What am I supposed to wear? Who's your bridesmaid?!"

"All of that is covered. We talked to Strauss awhile back when we had a date planned. And as for you, I was hoping as my best friend, you would be my bridesmaid? I have a dress picked and it's been tailored, but all you have to do-"

"Yes!" She screamed. Giving a home crushing hug. "But I swear to it if you get pregnant and don't tell me, we will be having issues." Her threat was serious and you knew it. But she pulled back and looked you in the eyes. "You're getting married."

"I'm getting married." Y/n repeated, a wide grin on her face as they jumped up and down.

~

Y/n stood behind the door. This was it. She couldn't help but beam. Glowing with severe happiness and an overwhelming sense of joy.

The music began and the doors opened. And she let one foot lead one after the other. She could hear gasps as she came down but she only saw one man. Her Aaron. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes before she even made it down.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..." the wedding officiants voice faded out as she and Aaron held a silent conversation.

Both coming back once it was time for the vows. "Aaron?" He handed over the floor.

She watched the tall man unfold his paper. "I knew from the first day we met you were going to be the one. You had saw me sitting there at the dance and a song had come on. It was fairly new at the time, but I could tell you knew that it would never get old. You ran over, grabbed my arms and pulled me to the dance floor and just started dancing around me. I was confused at first, shocked a bit more. How could someone be so care free in this world? You then stopped dancing and I made the joke you were holding back, and your response was something I never would forget." His voice wavered a bit as he looked up into her eyes. Knowing this was right. "You had said, shut up and dance with me. I swore in that moment that I would do anything to make you happy. I'm lucky it was you who kissed me first otherwise I would've dodged around it forever."

She laughed at this, "you missed every opportunity," her laugh was soggy. Tears snuck down her face the entire time.

Aaron shook his head with a smile, "even if I did, we got to where we wanted to be. I stand here today, with you, my best friend, the love of my life, the mother to my children one day, and mostly, my wife."

"Now Y/n," the mic was handed over.

She unfolded the paper, "The day I pictured finding my forever actually happened in the workplace. Where I would've found someone whose schedule lines with mine. And we would have all the time together. But then I met you in college. And I remember when you had said I was holding back, and I couldn't contain the adrenaline and just hopped you wouldn't think I was weird. Also because I was watching you for the entire night praying no girl would walk up to you before I could get the courage. After that night, we had seen each other almost everywhere. We got to talking and I thought, man. This man. You weren't like anyone I ever met."

"It was the beginning of college," he reminded. Laughing a little at the scoff and mumble.

"Yeah, but still. My freshman year I went quiet to focus on the basics, but by the second year I found you. My motivation, the one that kept pushing through to be a lawyer. We build each other up in the best ways. We kept each other going when we needed it the most and by the time we made it to the FBI , our life was set together for the best. Then it took you longer to still propose, but besides all that. You did. My love. My heart. My man. My husband. The father of my kids, I love you beyond what I can write. Also because I ran out of space, quite literally squeezing this, but I'm overwhelmed with love for you." She finished, wiping away tears carefully. Mumbling a thank you once Aaron handed her his handkerchief.

~

"Do you Aaron Hotchner, take Y/n L/n, in sickness and in health, to be you lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And do you, Y/n L/n, take Aaron Hotchner, in sickness and in health, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Them by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Cheers erupted as he did so. The two officially becoming Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner.

~

Everyone was on the dance floor now. Enjoying the company of each other and celebrating the newly weds. That's when the song came on again.

Aaron was over with his family as Y/n was talking with the team. But she was quick to leave them and run to find her husband.

Spotting him from the crowd already looking for her. Her toothy smile showed as she ran and grabbed his arm. Suddenly the room was just them.

They danced around each other as the music played. Getting closer once it slowed a bit more. "You're holding back," he looked lovingly down to her.

Her eyes twinkled with the same love. Tears came to her eyes, "shut up and dance with me," she whispered to him.

They shared one more kiss before the room came back to join them in dancing. Laughter filled the room almost instantly.

It was everything the couple had hoped for.

[luckyroll3]

Crimson Lights: Chapter 1

After another long day at the vet clinic and battling the crazy drivers on my trek home, I pull into the garage of my building. Finally, I sigh to myself. 

I drive up to the fifth floor and start looking for parking, getting excited when I see an open spot opposite the door to the elevator. I maneuver into the space, then sit with my hands on the steering wheel while leaning back onto the headrest. It shouldn’t be this hard to get motivated to leave the car, especially when I’m going home to an empty apartment. But it’s been tough adjusting to this new town and new job over the past few months. Getting the offer to take over the clinic came at the perfect time, just as I started questioning why I was still in Seattle after being left by the guy I moved there with because I thought he was the one. It had been 2 years since I ended our relationship, and I had come to hate the apartment and city full of harsh memories. And here I was in a new town where I knew no one and had no support. 

After breathing for a few seconds, I exit the car. Opening the back door, I grab my backpack, and carefully stack the 3 paper bags filled with groceries in my arms. While balancing everything, I reach back in to pick up a small box of ginger ale. 

As I teeter around the door, I hear behind me, “You coming this way?”

“Yeah!” I yell over my shoulder. I bump the back door closed with my hip and turn around. My breath catches as I see him holding the door, the hot guy I’ve been glimpsing from a distance since I moved into the building 3 months ago. Tall, dark, and handsome. Korean, I think, with beautiful brown eyes, black hair combed back, and wearing a very tailored dark maroon suit jacket, with matching pants and a crisp white business shirt. He was always dressed impeccably. And that ass was always a highlight. 

Trying to keep calm, I walk towards the door. I can’t believe that he finally talks to me and I look like...this. He stands to the side, allowing me to pass. As I walk through the doorway, my shoulder bumps the frame and I start to juggle my bags. Slightly flustered, I mumble, “Ah shit!”

“Here, let me help you with that,” he says, his voice low and smooth. He takes one of the brown grocery bags from my arms, his hand grazing gently across my skin and sending shivers down my spine. 

Down girl! I hadn’t been touched by a man in almost two years, and even that accidental touch was enough to get my dormant fires started again. “Thanks. I don’t know why I thought I could carry all this shit in one go.”

I hear him chuckle behind me as we walk towards the open elevator door. Inside, I see his usual companion. I’ve often seen them together in the building and figured they were friends or related. He was also a very good looking Korean, but a bit shorter and muscular. Where the first guy was svelte, this one was thick, but in a good way, and also had a nice ass. “What floor?” the friend asks.

“Ten please.” Buff guy hits the button for 10, then swipes a key card before pressing the button for the 25th floor. Interesting, I think to myself, the penthouse. They’re hot AND rich.

We ride the elevator in silence. I think about saying something, but am not sure what. Thankfully, the door opens. I turn to the first guy, “I can get that now,” nodding towards the bag.

“Nah, I got you,” he says motioning for me to exit with his arm outstretched. 

“Okay then. I’m not too far down.” I nod to the buff one, who nods back, then I  walk out and head down the hallway to my door. I grab my keys to unlock the deadbolt, pushing the door open and dropping my bags onto the bench next to it. “Thanks,” I say as I take the bag from him. “I honestly thought chivalry was dead.”

“Dying, not dead,” he counters with a smirk. As the corners of his lips turn up, two deep dimples appear, as if he needed to get more handsome.

I chuckle and try not to stare, “Yeah, definitely dying. Thanks again.”

“Not a problem. Hope you have a good evening.” He turns and walks back to the elevator. 

“Bye,” I say as I watch him and that ass saunter down the hallway, the tailoring of the suit highlighting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Damn, I think to myself as I enter my apartment and kick the door closed behind me. 

I move all the grocery bags to the kitchen counter and spend the next 10 minutes putting everything away. My mind kept thinking back to the elevator. Why didn’t I say anything? I didn’t even think to ask his name. I shake my head, thinking about the missed opportunity, as I walk towards my bedroom while peeling off my t-shirt. I also remove my bra and jeans and throw everything into the hamper. I slip into a pair of black sweatpant shorts and throw on a cropped tank top. Afterward, I grab a thin headband and use it to tie my curls into a messy bun.

I walk back to the kitchen to grab a beer, and then plop onto the couch. Time to catch up on this week’s Real Housewives. Nothing like mindless entertainment to keep me from thinking about my missed shot. 

About halfway through my second episode, I hear a knock at the door. I usually don’t have any guests on Friday nights unless I order delivery, so I’m a bit perplexed as to who it could be. 

I grab my beer and walk to the door, opening it to find the hot guy from earlier leaning against the door frame, this time dressed in all black. Black jeans, black t-shirt, black baseball cap. His posture exudes confidence.

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm and inviting. As he speaks, his gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that catches me off guard. “I realized that I never introduced myself earlier. I’m Chris.” He extends his hand towards me, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hi Chris,” I say, placing my hand in his. “Kay.” 

"Kay," he repeats softly, his voice a deep, smooth rumble as he gives my hand a firm shake. Instead of letting go, his thumb makes a light, almost imperceptible circle on my wrist, sending shivers down my spine. "Nice to finally put a name to the face." He drops my hand and his gaze travels slowly from my face down the length of my body and back up again, taking in every curve and angle with an intensity that makes me feel both exposed and desirable. His tongue gently licks his bottom lip, a small hint of hunger flashing in his eyes. I start to feel a bit self-conscious about my choice of loungewear, but there's also a thrill at being watched so closely by him. The heat from his gaze spreads through me, making me slightly flustered and I can feel my heart beating hard in my chest. I’m hoping he can’t hear it. “You’ve been in the building a few months now, right? New to town?”

“Yeah. I moved here from Seattle,” I reply, trying to keep my cool. “Had to escape that fucking place.” 

“Oh really! Everyone I’ve ever heard talk about Seattle loved it. I’ve only been there once for a business trip.” He reaches his left arm up to hold onto the frame. “I guess it wasn’t for you.” He leans in a bit closer to me. “Let’s hope you have a better time here,” he says softly with a charming smile, dimples fully on display. 

“Well things are certainly looking up,” I say with a grin, trying to match his tone. “So do you always welcome the new single women to the building?” I raise an eyebrow as I take a sip of my beer. 

He licks his lips again as he squints his eyes at me. “No.” He exhales slowly. “Just the hot ones.” A wide smile spreads across his face, dimples reemerging. 

Heat rises to my cheeks as I struggle to maintain my composure. I open my mouth to say something, but shut it when nothing comes out. I usually don’t get this flustered around guys, but there’s something about him that makes me a bit nervous, although curious. 

He leans back and ends the awkward silence by saying, “I’m hosting a party tomorrow night for my colleagues and business associates. If you don’t have plans, feel free to drop by. 25th floor. I’d love to see you come.” 

I burst out laughing, unable to hold it back.

He chuckles shyly, releasing the door frame to lift the cap off his head and using his right hand to run his fingers through his hair before replacing the cap. “Yeah, I heard it when I said it.” He bites his bottom lip. “I meant I’d love to see you there.” His gaze is steady as he waits for my response.

I smirk and say, “Thanks for the invite. I’ll think about it.” I feel a rush of excitement at his invitation. There’s something about Chris that draws me in. Maybe it’s his easy charm or the way he exudes confidence without being overbearing. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s ridiculously attractive. 

“Oh, you’ll think about it?” he says sassily, before chuckling. “You do that,” he counters. “Most people will arrive around 9:00. Bye Kay.” He gives me another once over with his eyes before turning to walk down the hall. 

As I watch him walk away, my heart still racing from the encounter, I can’t yet fully process his invitation. “Bye Chris.” I call out behind him. 

I close and lock the door. “Wow!” I say to the empty room. I lean against the wall and think about what it would feel like to have his hands move across my body like his eyes did and to have those plump pink lips pressed against mine. I feel a flutter of anticipation in my stomach. I take another swig of my beer, and place it on the counter before walking determinedly to my bedroom. Chris has been showing up in all of my masturbatory moments since I first saw him walking to his car my second day in the building. Now I had a name for the face I’d been dreaming of. 

[jesssssssssica]

ten things i hate about you! j.b

one. i hate the way you talk to me.

i hate when his voice raises and the words that he spits out at me. his tone is always aggressive after a match win or lose and i can’t deal with it. does he want me to change?

i don’t even let out a word, i’ve learnt that the words are more malicious if i attempt to calm him, but he shouts at me none the less, barking orders at me left, right and centre. it’s horrible and i hate it.

i hate the way he talks to me.

two. i hate the way you cut your hair

it looks stupid. i much prefer how it once was and the fact he pays someone to cut it that awfully, makes me laugh.

he tries to make himself look cool and maybe he does but to me he doesn’t. he just looks stupid.

i hate his hair.

three. i hate the way you drive my car

i should be happy when he offers to drive my car and be my own personal chauffeur but i’m not.

nine times out of ten i open my door and feel ill when we get to our destination. my heart always races whenever he drives it’s almost like i’m expecting an incident on the road.

it’s like i await the day i die in that car with him behind the wheel.

it’s the day i’ll finally be able to say “i told you so” with a smug smile on my face.

i hate the way he drives my car.

four. i hate it when you stare

he can’t pull his eyes away from me. his eyes are almost pulled to me from me making the slightest of movement and does not pull away until he’s sure that i’m okay.

i don’t get though why i am under such high surveillance. it’s not like in the 30 seconds that he’s not looking at me i will die or hurt myself.

it’s strange and it’s annoying.

is my life that amazing that he needs to watch?

i don’t think so.

i hate the way he stares at me.

five. i hate your big dumb combat football boots

they’re loud.

i can hear them everywhere. it’s like they’ve traumatised me so much that it’s engraved in my mind. i can hear them in my dreams nightmares.

i like the colours though. the neon. it makes me laugh if i see them as he’s running about the field. but other than that, i hate your big dumb football boots

six. i hate you so much it makes me sick

he make me so nauseous. the habits he has and the way he is makes me always question why i’m with him.

i can’t help it.

it’s just strange about what makes me this way.

maybe it’s the way you speak that makes my tummy feel as if it’s about to throw up and that there’s some mutant baby kicking about in there, but i don’t know.

one thing i do know though is, i hate you so much it makes me sick.

seven. i hate the way you’re always right

it’s like i can never win. in the arguments we have i’m always the one that has to back down and realise that im in the wrong.

no fair.

and it doesn’t help that when i realise i’m the one that’s wrong, his face is always there, stupid smug smirk taking over his face.

it’s cute.

but i’m to busy trying to find one single connection to the fact that i’m right. i never can.

i hate the way you’re always right.

eight. i hate it when you lie

i know when he’s lying. when he says he’s not been out but i can smell the alcohol on his breathe.

does he really think i’m that naive?

it’s not anything that big to me but all the little lies he tells are starting to form into one giant pile of lies that are starting to make me angry.

a relationship is built on truth and the fact he can’t do that makes me sick.

why can’t he be truthful?

if he’s lying about this then what else would he lie about.

it makes me worry.

i hate it when you lie.

nine. i hate it when you make me laugh

when he makes me laugh, it’s always the kind that will leave you struggling to breathe afterwards.

he makes me laugh like no one else does, and i don’t know why.

his jokes are mediocre at best and yet im laughing as if he’s a comedian that’s performing at a stand up show, which even then wouldn’t have me nearly falling onto the fall and holding onto my stomach.

then the stupid mutant baby returns, moving about in my stomach whenever i laugh.

it’s strange and i hate it.

i hate the way you make me laugh.

ten. i hate it when you’re not around

i hate it when i’m all alone.

loneliness is one of the worst things people can experience in their lives.

when he goes away for work i’m left in a giant home.

i can only talk to the walls that surround me and not him.

it’s strange how much you miss someone and you don’t even find out until their gone.

i mean why should i care so much about him?

why does it matter?

it’s not like i miss him and his stupid smile and his stupid jokes and his stupid face and his stupid everything.

i admit i hate when you’re not around

but most of all i hate the way i don’t hate you, not even close… not even a little bit… not even at all.

[t-lostinworlds]

hi lovely t!! congrats on ur lovely lil celly <3 how about “Wanna, like– I mean, if you’re not busy… We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” with stevie? i think you’d make it super cute! lots of love 🫶🏼

A/N: hi bby!! and thank u 🥺💗 i'm sorry this took a lil longer but i hope you like it @stevestummy !!!

steve harrington x fem!reader | wc: 1.3k | dustin's a menace & dorky/shy steve has a crush <3 | prompt in bold!

"This is borderline stalking."

"It's not stalking."

"Uh, borderline, it is," Dustin continued. "No normal or sane person goes to the same café two times a day, six times a week just to get a glimpse of some girl—"

"She's not some girl!"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Dustin gasped exaggeratedly, hand on his chest. "The girl you pathetically have an obvious crush on since this café opened—which would make that three weeks of stalking, by the way—and who you've been daydreaming to be your wife and the mother of your kids even though you haven't had a conversation apart from you telling her your same boring coffee order because you can't even ask her number let alone ask her out!"

"My coffee order is not boring," Steve grumbled, cheeks hot because Dustin's rant was still filled with truth…unfortunately.

All because of you.

You who made his heart race and his legs feel like jelly the first time you locked eyes. You who made his brain a jumbled mess, any coherent words lodged in his throat that he was only able to stutter out the first coffee order that came to mind—on more than one occasion that made you believe it was his usual—or else he would've made an even bigger fool of himself by simply staring at you.

Now, Steve wasn't a believer in love at first sight, but this sure did feel close enough.

"What happened to your game King Steve?"

He groaned, head thumping against the steering wheel. "Jesus, man, I get it—"

"Do you really think she's dumb enough to buy your excuses that you're just showing your friends the new café by bringing a different person, mostly kids not your age, every single time you come here?" Dustin babbled on. "You're so obvious about it already! So just ask her out!"

"What do you think I'm doing here!"

"Stalking!" Dustin argued which earned him a glare. "What? You're in your car, waiting for her to clock in because you want her to be the one to take your order instead of sitting inside like a normal person because you don't want to make it obvious that you are waiting for her only as if parking your car in front of the establishment for the past ten minutes without getting out isn't a giant red flag!"

Steve blinked. "What did I ever do to you?"

Dustin took a few deep breaths before smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just hungry, man, I haven't eaten lunch and I can smell their croissants every time the door opens."

Steve sighed, checking his watch.

"Come on. She should be here any minute now."

He internally cringed.

Maybe it did seem like he was stalking you when he even knew when you usually clocked in at certain times of the week.

In his defense, he'd been here plenty of times and it took some trial and error. Once he figured out roughly what your schedule was, it simply became a routine. He didn't go out of his way to steal your timetable and memorized it like some serial killer.

"Yeah, that's not creepy," Dustin grimaced. "Not creepy at all."

"I'll buy you anything you want if you don't embarrass me once we're inside," Steve gritted as he got out of the car. "If not, you're paying for yourself."

Dustin grinned toothily. "Deal."

•••

Steve's fingers were tapping on the wooden countertop as his eyes flickered between the menu and the 'employees only' door.

Your co-worker was behind the counter but didn't make an effort to go over to where they sat on the stools, much to Dustin's dismay. It was almost as if she knew that Steve wanted it to be you who'd take his order. 

His face warmed at the thought.

One that was definitely proven right when she shot him a knowing wink as she disappeared into the back and announced the end of her shift, his palms sweating as he watched the closed door in anticipation

Steve's heart jumped out of his chest and landed on the palm of your hand when you walked in.

Your eyes immediately found his, your irises twinkling and oh so fucking beautiful, smile sweet and warm that turned his brain to mush and all he could think about was: pretty pretty pretty.

Steve struggled to pick his jaw off the floor as he tried to return your grin without looking too much like a lovesick fool.

He knew he failed miserably at that.

Painfully and so downright obvious when he gawked at you, adoration filling his bones at the way you listened attentively to Dustin as he listed all the pastries he wanted to try like they were free—well, Steve supposed since he offered to pay for it all, it kind of was.

"Hey, Steve," you greeted cheerily, beaming. "The usual?"

"H-Hi! and yeah–yes…please," he said, smiling timidly, cheeks flushed, heart skipping when you giggled. It took Dustin kicking his foot to stop him from staring at you for a couple of minutes more. Gathering his sanity, his courage, his breath, his everything, he cleared his throat, "So, uh, do you wanna—uhm…burger? Maybe fries? Milkshakes too!"

"Steve, we don't serve those here," you chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in your eyes, tone teasing. "I thought you knew that already? Being a regular and all."

"No, no, no, it's uh, I meant—" Steve took a deep breath, and he swore he was having a fever because of how hot his body felt. "Wanna, like—I mean, if you’re not busy…We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?"

"Well, I think I've had enough of coffee," you said, face scrunching in the most adorable of ways as you waved around you, the smell of freshly roasted beans strong in the air. "And it's way past lunch already."

Steve's heart fell into his stomach.

"Oh."

This was it. You were letting him down gently. You probably realized just how fucking creepy he'd been acting coming here all the time and—

"How about dinner this Friday night?"

"Yes!" he squeaked, his face burning red. He saw Dustin bury his face in his hands, muttering about how painful this was to watch. Steve ignored him as he turned back to you. "I mean, yeah, I'm free Friday…any time—for you, yeah."

"Cool," you giggled, and Steve swore if he'd hear that angelic sound one more time, he was going to ask you to marry him. You scribbled something on your notepad, your smile shy yet bright as you ripped the paper and handed it to him. "Here's my number. You can pick me up at seven."

"O-Okay," he choked out, cheeks hot and hurting as his grin grew wider. "I will."

Then, you leaned over the counter and kissed his cheek and Steve swore his heart stopped beating, brown eyes wide, jaw hanging, awestruck and dazed as you took his breath away. 

"It's a date," you whispered, fingers resting under his chin to close his mouth, winking before you made your way toward the door. He tried to fight off his frown when he immediately missed your touch, craving more. "I'll be back. I promised Dustin over here to get him one of the freshly baked croissants in the oven."

"Thanks, Y/N!" Dustin chuckled, waving excitedly.

"Fucking slap me," Steve breathed out once you were out of earshot, flinching when a palm hit the back of his head. He glared at his friend. "It was rhetorical!"

"I can't believe that worked," Dustin groaned. "That was so fucking bad."

Steve rolled his eyes, grinning smugly as he waved the paper you gave him. "I still got her number, didn't I?

"Technically, she gave it to you, idiot. You didn't do shit but ask for burgers and fries in a place that serves coffee and pastries. You've got nothing to be smug about."

Steve couldn't even find himself to be embarrassed about it. He was too high on life, his cheek still tingling from where your lips had touched his skin, your sweet scent still lingering in the air that nothing could ever bring him back down.

"I'm still getting the girl."

"Yeah, with your serial killer stalker strategy"

"Shut up."

⤷ t's february frolicking celebration

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[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 04

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress

Y/n is sitting at the desk inside the garage. It was a fairly quiet day and Leff was sitting in the office with his feet on the desk, talking on the phone to someone making new import deals. Sicky came busting through the door so hard, it hit the wall.

"I've fucking had it! I'm done babysitting this kid. He's been complaining nonstop all fucking day and I'm going to kill him." Sicky threw his hands up and Mike came in behind him shaking his head.

"Did you do all the drop offs?" Y/n looked at her watch and Sicky growled.

"No because princess over here has to stop every ten minutes to piss or get cigarettes or jerk off." Sicky looked back at him.

"I had to piss twice and it's not my fault these places are smoke free. This is fucking New York. That's stupid." Mike argued.

"I can't handle it Y/n. You take over or I'm going to skin the kid." Sicky lowered his voice so only Y/n could hear him knowing that threatening Leff's blood loud enough for him to hear would always be a no no. She stood up from the desk and chuckled.

"You remember this the next time I have to do a shipment at the bar." Y/n put a gun in her ankle holster and grabbed her jacket off the hook.

"Come on loverboy." Y/n grabbed the collar of Mike's leather jacket and he gave Sicky the finger.

"Do you care if I smoke in your car?" Mike asked hopeful.

"You can smoke in my car but to answer your question earlier, you can't smoke at client's establishments unless they offer you a smoke. It's disrespectful. These are business partners and when we enter their home turf, they have the advantage. We must show respect to keep business relations on the up and up." Y/n explained as Mike lit his cigarette.

"I fucking hate this job. Honestly, I almost wish Leff would have left me to figure my own shit out. At least that way I wouldn't be stuck being his little bitch delivery boy." He blew smoke out of the cracked window.

"What would you rather be doing?" Y/n asked honestly and Mike looked over at her to see if she was being serious.

"If I tell you, you can't laugh." Mike said making Y/n smile.

"If you say male stripper or rancher, I'm going to laugh." She warned making him chuckle.

"I want to be a musician. Start a band and get the hell out of here. The music scene in New York is dead unless you're a rapper or making a techno pop set in someone's basement rave." Mike explained.

"Musician? Do you play an instrument or are you a singer?" She asked. Mike could see she was genuinely interested in his answers and he tried to hide his blush.

"I play guitar but I definitely would need a singer. I'm not much of a vocalist." Mike took another puff from his cigarette and ashed it out the window.

"Well you could absolutely find a singer in New York but you'll want to go South if you want to get any sort of band off the ground. Everyone knows Texas is where aspiring musicians go." Y/n pulled up to a stop light and looked at him.

"What's your sound? Despite the cowboy look, the leather daddy that accompanies it gives hard rock or grungey alternative." Mike had to laugh out loud.

"Did you just call me a leather daddy?" He asked furrowing his brows.

"Shut up, don't act like you don't love when I give you pet names." She teased from behind the steering wheel. He noticed something he hadn't really noticed before. She had a tattoo on her neck behind her ear. When she smiled wide, he could see a little black rose etched into the skin.

"If only you would take me up on my offer to use them with less clothing and more privacy." Mike flirted making her shake her head at him, putting her hand out to take his cigarette and take a puff. He watched her suck the smoke into her mouth, let it out of her nose and back out again.

Every thing she did turned him on in the weirdest way.

"Get some furniture first and we'll revisit naked hangouts." She teased. Mike took that as a promise and motivation to get a couch.

"How do you know so much about the music scene in Texas?" Mike asked curiously.

"I used to work at a night club. A lot of guys would come through and tell me their life stories and dreams of making it big but what they don't realize is New York is more for performing arts. Classical musicians and acting are on the rise but places like Austin are where all the big music producers pick and choose people to throw together to make an album. Plus the food is superior." Mike kept his eyes on her.

"The night club...were you a-"

"Yes Mike, I used to be a dancer so if you have any stripper jokes, keep in mind that I'm currently behind the wheel and you aren't wearing a seat belt." She glanced over at him.

"I mean we're literally pushing drugs and weapons. I don't think being a stripper is some sort of classless gig. We're clearly doing a lot worse." He shook the duffel bag.

"You aren't wrong." Y/n pulled up to the drop location and put the car in park.

"Besides, Sicky said you own a bar now so that's cool." Mike added making her grin at him.

"You're talking to Sicky about me huh?" She teases and he rolls his eyes.

"Shut up." He finished off his cigarette before getting out of the car and when Y/n handed him the duffel she held onto it.

"Hey, this shit is only as temporary as you want it to be. You want out, you have to find something that will get you out and keep you straight. All Leff needs is reassurance that you'll be able to take care of yourself. That's all he wants." She said sincerely.

"I'll keep that in mind while I'm peddling this cocaine to a biker gang." Mike said making Y/n scrunch her nose.

"Sicky's right, you're being a princess." Y/n teased making Mike take the bag from her and give her a mocking middle finger. She smiled giving him one back and watched his back as he knocked on the door. She moved her gun from her ankle holster to her lap and watched him carefully.

He didn't know it but Y/n was already willing to kill for him if she had to.

[ladykailitha]

In the Midnight Hour Part 11

And now we get to the healing and the ending. There are 13 parts in total. I am currently working on a Valentine’s day fic, but after that I fully plan to get back to the other two WIPs.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  

*

Steve woke up first. He saw Dustin and Wayne looking down at him, relief flooding every inch of their bodies.

“Is everyone okay?” he rasped.

Wayne let out a watery chuckle. “Eddie’s still in surgery. They’re trying to save his fingers and vocal cords. The bite on his throat was the deepest and whatever it was that happened when you changed him back, caused a lot of damage. He has two gashes on his back from where the wings were and tips of his fingers were broken.”

Steve let out a distressed cry. “What if he can’t play guitar or sing ever again? It would kill him.”

Dustin and Wayne shared a glance. They both had similar thoughts.

“He’s alive,” Wayne assured him. “That’s the important part right now. Don’t worry about anything else.

Just then Eddie was wheeled back into the room. He was on his side and they could see the heavy bandages on his throat, back and fingers.

The surgeon came in behind the nurses wheeling Eddie in. As the nurses began to hook Eddie up to the machines, the doctor came up to Wayne.

“If you’d step with me out into the hallway,” the doctor began, “I’ll go over with you how the surgery went.”

Wayne looked at Steve and Dustin and shook his head. “They’re Eddie’s family, too. You can say whatever you want in front of them.”

The doctor eyed Steve skeptically. He could believe that Dustin could be a younger brother, but everyone knew who Steve Harrington was. Not because of his family, but by how much time he had spent in that hospital in the last three years.

The doctor met Wayne’s steely gaze head on, but folded first. It wasn’t any of his business if Wayne Munson declared him family.

“Right,” the doctor began. “The surgeries on his back and fingers went fine. The gashes were clean, as were the breaks on his fingers. He should get full range of motion back in his hands in no time at all.”

All three of them let out a sigh of relief.

“And his throat?” Steve asked timidly.

“That’s the hard part,” the doctor said. “We won’t know how successful we were until he wakes up. We did everything we could, the best that we could. All we can do now is wait.”

A nurse came up to him with a different file and the doctor traded Eddie’s file for the new one.

“And since you’re awake, now, Mr Harrington,” the doctor said coldly, “we should talk about your injuries.”

Steve winced. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”

“You are a modern miracle,” the doctor said flatly. “You should, for all intents and purposes, be dead.”

Wayne and Dustin looked over at Steve in shock.

“Let’s see,” the doctor said lifting up the first page and flipping through what looked to be several pages of x-rays and other medical jargon. “The gash on your chest and stomach is infected and we are currently pumping you with enough antibiotics to knock out a horse and yet...” He waved to Steve’s wakefulness.

Steve blushed.

“We reopened them and sewed them shut properly so that they will heal correctly,” the doctor continued, giving Steve the stink-eye. “You had a lot of minor abrasions that didn’t require stitches, but they have been cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged.”

“That’s good then,” Dustin said feeling relieved.

“Oh all that’s fine,” the doctor intoned. “It was the CT scan of his head, that really stumped every neurologist and neurosurgeon that looked at it. Son, are you aware how many concussions you’ve had?”

Steve looked up and began to count on his fingers when he started running out of fingers on the one hand the doctor stopped him, waving his hands dramatically.

“Enough!” the doctor cried. “One is too many, Mr Harrington! You have had more concussions than the average professional football player in ten years of playing, in the last four years.”

Steve dropped his head and hunched his shoulders. “I know.”

“You going to have to start seeing a neurologist and taking medications for your migraines and other head related issues. I’ve set up for hearing and eye tests in the next couple of days and then going forward you will have to take those tests every six months to make sure we catch any problems that may crop up due to the trauma.”

Steve nodded. Wayne took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“We’ll get through this,” he murmured.

“Hell, yeah,” Dustin said.

“Just one more thing,” the doctor said. “You’re parents were notified as next of kin.”

Steve and Wayne shared a nervous glance.

“They could not be reached,” the doctor continued, “so I had an orderly try and run them down.”

Steve grimaced. “They hadn’t called in awhile,” he admitted shyly.

“He was able to track them to New York where they had been living for the last two years,” the doctor said.

Steve’s eyes went wide as he leaned forward. “Excuse me? Living?”

The doctor nodded. “Your journalist friend did some further research, and found that they had listed the house in Hawkins as their secondary home.”

Steve’s lip quivered and he bit it to fight back the tears. “Why? Why didn’t they say something?”

The doctor shook his head. “Your friend is looking into it, but there is some suggestion they have even signed the house you currently reside over to you a year ago.”

“What?!” Dustin screeched. “A year ago!”

Steve frowned. “I‒I vaguely remembering getting something in the mail after the mall burned down, but I was so out of it...”

“The people currently paying for your care have told me to inform you that they are taking care of everything and to just relax,” the doctor said, sound sympathetic for the first time. “Rest up, Mr Harrington. It looks as though you have a long road ahead of you.”

The doctor left leaving behind a stunned trio.

“I haven’t gotten anything from them in over a year,” Steve said, as he choked back a sob. “I was getting really worried when I couldn’t reach them. I thought something had happened to them. Maybe that would have been better than to be completely abandoned and discarded like an ill-fitting sweater.”

“We’ll get this sorted out,” Wayne said. “I’ll talk to Owens and find out what’s being done. And by the time you’re out of here, it’ll be all sorted.”

He stood up and gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. He walked over to Eddie’s bed side and knelt down so they were face to face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I don’t know if you can hear me right now, but I need to know how much I love you and that you have to wake up. Not for me, though I wouldn’t mind. Steve’s going to need you now more than ever.”

He smoothed Eddie hair and brushed it gently out of his face. He kissed Eddie’s forehead and stood back up.

“Dustin, let me know if anything changes with Eddie,” he said turning to the younger boy. “And Steve, make sure if you need anything you let someone know right away.”

Steve nodded. He looked down at his hands and sighed. “There is one thing, sir.”

Wayne smiled softly. “What’s that?”

“Can‒can the two beds be brought closer together?” he asked shyly.

“I can ask.”

Steve gulped. “Thanks.”

“Take care,” Wayne murmured.

*

The two beds were pushed closer together. Just far enough apart that a nurse could squeeze through to look at Eddie’s machines and make adjustments as needed.

On the third day, Eddie opened his eyes.

“Wayne...” he whisper shouted getting the man’s attention.

Wayne’s eyes snapped to Eddie’s now opened eyes. “Eddie!” He jumped up and tapped the nurse call button. “Hang on, son. I’ve got nurses on the way.”

Eddie nodded.

The nurses came pouring in and made adjustments, got Eddie some water, and lifted the bed to a more upright position. They made sure he was comfortable before they left him alone.

“What’s wrong with my voice?” Eddie asked.

Wayne smiled sadly. “We don’t know. The doctors did everything they could. You could get it back, but it will take time.”

Eddie’s hand went up to his throat. “And if I don’t get back?”

“Then we learn sign language,” Steve said. “And you’ll still be able to talk a mile a minute, if not faster, being able to use your hands.”

“But‒” Eddie whispered. D&D, his band. Sign language was great for every day, but what about the things he loved...

Steve reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

Eddie looked into Steve’s eyes and found hope there. “Okay...”

“In the mean time,” Wayne said pulling out pad of paper and a pen. “Use this to keep you from hurting your throat further.”

Eddie nodded, taking them both in one hand so he wouldn’t have to let go of Steve’s hand.

“Maybe for D&D, if you end up not being able to speak,” Steve said with a grin, “I’ll be your interpreter. That will really freak out your club.”

Eddie let out a little wheeze and then in big bold letters wrote with the pen in his fist like a toddler, “DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH!!!!!!!”

The doctor chose that moment to come in. “Mr Munson, it’s good to see you awake.”

Eddie smiled and waved.

“I’m sure by now you have noticed your voice is rough at the moment,” the doctor continued.

Eddie rolled his eyes and wrote: “It’s not just rough, it’s fucking gone!”

The doctor frowned and got out a pen light to look at Eddie’s throat. “Everything seems fine. It’s most likely due to non-use. I will get a speech therapist in here by later today and see if we can get you back to your chatty self in no time at all.”

Steve was practically bouncing in his bed. “You see, Eddie? Everything’s going to be just fine!”

Eddie blushed.

Wayne stood up. “I’m going to go let everyone know you’re awake.”

Eddie waved and Steve smiled.

Eddie let his hair fall in front of his face and wrote: “You kissed me.”

Steve laughed. “I did tell you I wanted to weeks ago.”

Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth. “I felt your love for me down there.”

Steve’s smile turned fond. “Yeah. Did you know about your uncle’s powers?”

Eddie shook his head and wrote: “Not really. Suspected something might be up when he always seemed able to suss out my moods, but no.”

“The only ones that seemed to understand what he was, was El and Will,” Steve said. “The two munchkins you haven’t met yet.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook, indicating his silent laughter. “Just how many children do you have?”

“All total?” Steve asked with a grin. “Seven. Just don’t tell their parents.” He winked at Eddie.

Eddie turned the page, having already filled the first one. “Seven? How the hell did you get seven kids? Did you kidnap them?”

Steve laughed. “No. The original four were Lucas, Will, Mike, and Dustin. Then El got added. Then Max and Erica the following year.”

“That’s a lot,” Eddie wrote.

“I would do anything for them,” Steve said softly.

“How did you know to use Wayne’s powers to make Vecna vulnerable?” Eddie wrote after a moment or two.

Steve grinned. “It was something your uncle said actually.”

“What’s that?” Wayne asked from the doorway.

Eddie wrote: “Hey that’s what I was going to say write!”

Wayne chuckled and moved to sit back down in the chair he vacated.

“You said that if you didn’t have a tight grasp on your powers that you would probably floor Hawkins with your love for Eddie,” Steve explained.

“And if I could do that without control,” Wayne agreed, “imagine what I could do with it completely controlled. You did a good job, son.”

Steve blushed. “I had help. You, El, Hopper, Eddie...” He glanced over at the other boy and then ducked his head.

“Yes, but you were able to put all the pieces together and come up with a plan,” Wayne said.

“You make me sound like Capt. Hannibal from ‘A-Team’,” Steve said shyly.

Wayne laughed. “You would be a fan of that one.” He clapped Eddie’s shoulder gently. “Rest up, everyone wants to see you.”

Eddie nodded. He couldn’t believe Steve had actually done it. Killed Vecna, destroyed the Upside Down, and saved him. His own personal hero. And as he closed his eyes, he dreamed of a life he never thought he could ever have.

Part 12  Part 13

Tag List:  @swimmingbirdrunningrock @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch@grtwdsmwhr  @chaoticlovingdreamer  @savory-babby @thequeenrainacorn @anzelsilver @estrellami-1 @steddieassheg0es @currently-steddiebrainrot @gregre369 @steddie-there @clumsywriter @babbler1202

[matthewtkachuk]

nothing kills you slower than letting someone go - matthew tkachuk

Your first Christmas in Calgary without Matthew proves to be more dramatic than you’d imagined

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: angst angst angst, a shitty breakup, shitting on the calgary transit system and also the weather, tumblr user matthewtkachuk finally taking on the matthew tkachuk florida trade

word count: 3.1k

happy (early) birthday c, i love you so so so so sos ososos os much you deserve the absolute fucking world and i would kill anyone for you, all you have to do is ask. big thank u to @antoineroussel as always for proofreading, even if i decline her changes 50% of the time.

@ryngrvs bingo spaces used: exes to lovers, "you're killing me", argument scene, unresolved angst, forced proximity

“You’re killing me.”

It’s spoken by the head of curls poking out from beneath the cream duvet that may or may not be attached to your boyfriend. He’s enjoying the perks of a rare day off, while you’re stumbling around the bright room getting ready for work at the ass crack of dawn. 

“I’m sorry, Matty, I’ll turn the light off as soon as I finish getting dressed.” 

“Or you could stop getting dressed and come back to bed,” is his muffled reply. He stretches with a loud groan, peeking out at you from beneath the covers for a moment before dramatically squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head once more. 

“Would that I could, baby. Would that I could,” you tell him, tossing on a shirt from your large walk-in closet and finally, mercifully, turning off the light. It’s a short walk back over to the bed where you unceremoniously yank the covers away in order to give him a short but sweet kiss goodbye. “Love you, see you later.” 

His responding ‘I love you’ sounds more like a promise than a parroting of your own words back at you. 

Life in Calgary is good, perfect even one might say. Just you, Matty, a cute apartment with a good view—what more could a girl ask for? Except for maybe a milder winter and a physical confirmation and representation of the future you think you’re heading toward. 

Six months later, at his brother’s engagement party, Matt is traded to the opposite side of the continent  and you’re moving into the spare bedroom of your friend’s apartment. Your view? The brick of the building next door and the shambles of a life you’d no longer get to lead. 

-

Calgary’s always been cold, but it’s even colder without Matthew to warm your bed or your apartment or your life. Apparently the mid-December cold snap has temperatures dropping below that of even the North and South Poles. Once upon a time that would mean extended mornings together in bed, warm and cozy under covers until you would successfully guilt trip him into giving you a ride to work. 

These days you have to wake up a full hour earlier than you used to in order to take the notoriously unreliable Calgary transit system, shivering in the uncovered bus shelter while you wait and wait and wait for a bus that may never come, and cursing your manager for being the ultimate boomer, afraid of letting his staff work from home.

It’s one of those days when your bus is a full half an hour late and the windchill could best be described as ‘fucking cold’ when you get an unexpected text message. 

Busy?

It’s Annika, Elias’s newly minted fiance if instagram is to be believed, and one of the girls you had been closest to when you’d existed within the stratosphere that was the Calgary Flames. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome or unrealistic, seeing as she’s checked on you here and there in the months since your split.

No, but yes and also kind of in a pickle...

Ten minutes later, there’s still no sign of your bus, but a different mode of transportation presents itself in your old friend behind the wheel of an SUV.

Your shoulders are shivering and your teeth are chattering and you’re 99% sure your lips are blue when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the window reflection before climbing in.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver Ann,” you gush the moment you’re situated in the passenger seat, pleasantly surprised when the seat warmer is already warm and toasty beneath your ass.

“What are friends for, right?” she gleefully replies, signaling before turning back onto the icy street. 

Christmas music plays lightly through the car radio, filling the silences between the two of you catching up on the past few months. 

It’s pleasant and warm—so, so incredibly warm thank God—which should have been an indication that a bomb was about to be thrown your way. 

“Come to our Christmas party,” Annika blurts out with a complete and uncharacteristic lack of poise. You’re ready to tell her all about the multitude of ways that’s a bad idea when she continues, “Just listen...”

It takes a lot to convince you that a Christmas Party being hosted at the house she owned with Elias is how you want to spend your valuable free time. Partially it’s the promise of free booze, partially it’s the way your chest aches when you think of all the friends you lost when your relationship went to shit, but mostly it’s the assurance that it’s neither the Official nor Unofficial Flames Christmas party and it won’t be just players and their significant others present. 

That, and the fact that Annika went out of her way to pick you up in the freezing cold at seven thirty in the morning and give you a ride when Calgary Transit had let you down so spectacularly. 

You let her talk and don’t give her an answer until she’s dropping you off in front of work.

“So, will you come?”

“Of course I’ll come, thanks for the ride, Ann.”

The wide smile on her face should make your frozen heart melt a little, but you’re too busy focusing on the dread you feel deep in your stomach.

-

You knew it was going to be a bad day when even your gimmicky weather app told you it was so cold you were better off staying at home.

But you’ve spent enough time sitting at home, staring at your four walls and wishing for a better outcome. Besides, you’re not going to let anyone down, especially not after knowing the pain of the ultimate let down that was Matthew Tkachuk and everything he’d promised you and then failed to deliver. 

The only one you’re impressing is yourself these days, which is your justification for the thirty minute long shower where you let a hair mask soak into your ends and exfoliate your entire body despite being under no pretenses that anyone but you would benefit from it.

And okay maybe the thought of ending up in the background of someone’s Insta story is motivation enough for you to spend that extra bit of time on your hair and makeup, and to choose the jeans that make your ass look great and the shirt that does the same for your tits. It’s a secret that will remain between you and Anastasia Beverly Hills. 

A loud cheer is sounded when you walk through the front door of the Lindholm home after a short Uber ride.

“You and Matthew broke up, not us,” Elias tells you after pulling you in for a big bear hug. It takes everything you have in you to not give into the wobbling of your lower lip at his words. Maybe it wasn’t fair to avoid this world and everything that came with it for fear that it would prevent your broken heart from mending itself piece by piece. These were good people who you cared for and who cared for you in return, people who only had your best interests at heart. 

“I promise I’ll quit hiding in Chrissy’s apartment,” you reply quietly before letting Annika lead you away to introduce you to some of the new faces around the room. 

Ashley Kadri is every bit as glamorous and kind as your friend talked her up to be, and her husband is much of the same, letting you gush about how amazing his cup run with the Avs had been last season. 

You can take the girl out of the hockey relationship, but you can’t take the hockey out of the girl.

It’s all going well and reminding you of how much you used to love being a part of this world when it predictably goes to hell again.

Securing another drink means walking past the front door to head towards the kitchen, and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing that it’s here, away from prying eyes, that you run into the last person you expected to see in Calgary ever again outside of a game situation. 

“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks, stunned by the mere presence of you in his former teammate but forever friend’s home. 

“What am I doing here? Me? What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap back angrily, but even you’re not sure exactly what you mean by ‘here’. Canada? Calgary? Lindy’s entryway? Your fragile, shattered heart?

Torn between bursting into tears and strangling the man in front of you, you’re saved from the decision by Elias appearing out of nowhere with a robust “Chucky!”

Annika’s guilty face behind her fiance tells you Matthew’s arrival is not unwelcome nor unexpected.

“I need a drink,” you whisper quietly, ignoring Annika’s attempts to gain your attention. 

Much like he hadn’t when he left, you don’t spare Matthew a second glance as you leave.

You’re not sure if it’s a cruel twist of fate, or the result of your not-so-kind-hearted friends’ meddling that has you sitting next to Matthew at dinner. He spends most of it trying to get your attention, but you focus on Jacob and talking his and his girlfriend’s ears off about her pregnancy. 

At some point between stuffing your face with mashed potatoes and none-too-gracefully reaching over Matthew to grab seconds to avoid having to engage in conversation with him, his leg brushes yours. The sensation has your skin feeling like it’s on fire through your jeans, and you react accordingly, flinching away like you’ve been burned. 

Later, you’re sat in a circle with a group of Annika’s friends, listening to them drone on and on about some great opportunity that, for some reason you can’t quite put your finger on, has you imagining the shape of a triangle. 

Realizing you’re going to need more alcohol to get through the conversation, you excuse yourself and run right into the very person you’ve been avoiding all night. 

If you were stronger, less heartbroken still, you would look him right in his eyes and dismiss him without much more than a callous, offhanded comment of his name. You’re not, and you are, and so you just stare up at him, feeling as though all of the oxygen in the room has been sucked out. 

He manages to say your name though, and the sound of it is so bittersweet on his tongue. Equal parts sounding like it belongs there, and like it should never be spoken by him again. 

“Can we get out of here? Talk?”

Annika’s friends are staring with far too much interest, not even pretending like they’re not eavesdropping and so you storm away to a much quieter spot down the hallway.

Spinning on him, you say, “I didn’t drive, and I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Please? I really want to clear the air, and I can’t do it with all of my former teammates breathing down my neck.” He seems sincere enough, even if the very sight of him has your body breaking out into a nervous sweat, and you’re pretty sure you feel the beginning of an allergic hives reaction breaking out along your arms.

“You should have thought of that before you ambushed me at their party.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here, I promise. Lindy invited me, and I couldn’t just turn him down.” 

You know the feeling well, not wanting to let Annika down was seventy five percent of the reason you were here tonight, too. Something about the way that makes you feel has you agreeing, “Fine.”

“If you really want, we can take separate Ubers,” he offers, and you realize the notion is ridiculous, but you still consider it for half a second before you sigh so deeply you feel it in your bones before rattling off your new address. He looks shocked, and you realize when he opens the app on his phone, the old address is still saved as Home.

“You didn’t think I could afford the condo after you left did you? I can't even afford to live by myself, Matthew,” you snap at him.

“I didn’t realize—“

“Yeah there’s a lot you didn’t realize, Matthew.”

The full name moniker that slips from your mouth slices right through his bravado as he viscerally winces. 

Your ride comes quickly, but the actual ride itself seems to take an entire hour as the blue Toyota Camry with the Flames license plate weaves in and out of traffic. It makes you wonder if the car really belongs to Carl, your Uber driver, as he casually has a conversation with Matthew without any fuss.

Normally, you go out of your way to make others feel appreciated, but you can’t even find it within yourself to thank Carl when he pulls up at your apartment, simply jumping out from the car before it’s even fully parked.

Matthew takes in his surroundings carefully, critically, as he looks at discarded needles on the ground in front of you and the gang sign graffiti a few buildings down from yours. It makes you angry—no, makes you furious—as you watch him judge your surroundings. As if he had any reason to care about where you rested your head at night anymore.

You still don’t say anything though. Just let that anger stew and simmer, bubbling below the surface as you buzz into the lobby and then up the elevator. 

“You wanted to talk? Talk.” You cross your arms and glare at him, impatiently and involuntarily tapping your foot on the cheap laminate flooring.

He looks lost, panicked, like he didn’t think he would even make it this far. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t know what to say?” You’re in disbelief, truly. He shows up in your city, at a party you’re at, and demands to speak with you privately at your apartment and he can’t think of a single thing to fucking say to you? “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” he says, elaborating further when your look of disbelief only grows. “Seeing you again. I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“You made it like this! You left me behind like I was nothing, like we were nothing.”

He winces as the truth leaves your lips. “I know, and I’ve regretted it ever since. From the moment the door shut behind me for the last time, I’ve regretted it.”

“Then why? Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?” The feeling brewing in your chest can’t be pinned down to just one emotion; it’s sadness and anger and hurt, but it’s something else too. Something you can’t put your finger on but it burns like cheap whiskey down your throat. 

“I couldn’t ask you to leave Calgary, everything you have is here.”

That’s it? That’s his excuse? Deciding for the both of you what was important to you, what you would want? 

“I fucking hate Calgary! It’s so fucking cold and it snows all the time and you’re not there anymore!” 

He’s on you in a second, cold hands curved around your jaw and hot mouth on yours. Your back hits the wall, and you think a picture frame falls, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Gripping and pulling him closer, your hands can’t settle on a place, roaming and feeling, re-committing every curve, every sharp edge of his body to memory.

It’s a mess of teeth and tongue, whining and panting and a thrumming need until his mouth breaks free of yours, trailing down your neck.

You come back into yourself then, back into the harsh memory of his packed bags and his back as he walked away from you and everything you had to offer. “Stop…Stop!” You push him off of you. There’s barely any effort put into it on your part, but he flies off of you like you had herculean strength. 

One of his hands is tangled in the hair atop his head, while the fingers of the other are pressed to his lips as if in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry, I-”

“What? It was a mistake? An accident? I don’t want to fucking hear it! What is wrong with you?” It takes everything in your power to keep the tears from falling, though you’re sure your watery gaze betrays you. Your arms are wrapped around you, almost as if you could physically hold your broken pieces together. 

“I’m just sorry,” he replies, resigned in a way you can’t ever quite remember him being. “I’m just sorry and I miss you so fucking much.”

You laugh then, loud and cruel and sharp. “Apology not accepted.”

He says your name, quiet and wounded, almost like a prayer, a plea.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you reply, “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“Would you have?”

“Yes.”

“Would you come with me now?”

“Absolutely not.”

He looks shocked then. Like it’s inconceivable that you’re not willing to drop everything for him, five months after he left you behind without so much as a second glance. Like he thought he could just show up in Calgary, at Elias’ party, like nothing was wrong and you would follow him back like a lost puppy. 

The day after your breakup? Absolutely. The week after? Maybe. But you had five months to learn to be okay without the man standing in front of you, and no shitty apology or burning kiss was going to change that. 

“Calgary may be cold and miserable, but it’s predictable. I know exactly what to expect—fucking cold from October to May, and a little less cold for the rest of the year. You? I have no idea what you’ll do next. And that used to excite me, used to make me think you were just passionate. But now I don’t trust you, and I don’t think I ever could.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I think you should go.” When he doesn’t even blink, your mouth twists into a horrible grimace as you lose control of yourself and the floodgates holding back your tears burst. “Fucking leave! You’re killing me here, Matty.”

You’ll never know if it was the tears or the nickname you let slip past your lips, but he leaves. And you’re not sure you’ve made the right choice, but he made the wrong one first and you’ll never forget that.

[the-butch-of-blaviken]

Aiden/Lambert/Keira, modern au, pure fluff, sharing food (890 words)

something silly and self-indulgent written for a discord server prompt

It’s a hot summer day and they’d thought going to the beach on their day off was a good idea – and it would have been, had not about a billion other people had the same idea.

Lambert has not been to the beach since he was eleven years old and Vesemir took him and his brothers to the beach on one of those rare, blessed week-ends where he didn’t work. Lambert remembers splashing around in the water and daring his brothers to see who could hold his breath the longest underwater. The ice cream cart had wobbled over to their spot and the three of them had turned to Vesemir with eyes like war orphans’. “Absolutely not,” Vesemir had said without looking up from his crosswords. 

Turns out splashing around in the water all day was good enough for eleven-year-olds but he feels a little self-conscious about it now, and besides, kids and middle-aged dads in khaki bathing shorts standing perfectly still knee-deep in water with their hands on their hips are already taking up all the space.

Aiden does manage to lure him to deeper waters and for a moment they’re busy racing each other, shamelessly cheating by catching the other’s foot and tickling him or grabbing each other by the leg and dragging him underwater, but it rapidly gets old and after an hour and a half, they’re back on dry land. Keira complains that they’re kicking up sand and dripping all over her like dogs after a bath, but she still makes room for them under her parasol. After that, it gets rather dull and Lambert starts feeling like seasoned meat on a barbecue grill. As a matter of fact, all three of them are sweating profusely, even Keira, who somehow still manages to look like a Barbie straight out of the box.

When the ice cream cart wheels past their spot, they all share a look.

“Let’s share an ice cream,” Aiden suggests.

“They only come in cones.”

“Yeah, and? It’s romantic,” he replies, grinning.

Keira scoffs. “It’s disgusting and unsanitary is what it is.”

“We’ve done more unsanitary stuff than this.”

“What kind of argument is that?” She turns to Lambert, looking for support.

He just shrugs. “I don’t feel like getting ice cream just for me.” He still kind of wants the ice cream, though.

She stares at him over the brim of her thick-rimmed sunglasses for a moment before capitulating, sighing. She fishes a ten-florin bill out of her wallet and holds it out between her index and middle fingers for Aiden to take. He snatches it and gives her a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, mom.”

She slaps his ass on his way up. Lambert hides his smile behind a hand when Aiden yelps. He probably would have done the same.

They each choose a perfume: strawberry for Keira, chocolate mint for Lambert and peanut butter for Aiden. The ice cream starts melting before they’ve even sat back down on their towel, running down the cone in a glorious pink, green and brown mess.

Keira gets the first taste. After that, they pass the cone around in turns: Aiden makes a point of taking comically long licks whenever he can. It takes Keira and Lambert a while to notice, but when they do, Aiden has to sit out two of his turns to compensate. He looks at them like a kicked puppy while they enjoy their ice cream with overzealous noises of enjoyment until the mother of a nearby family glares at them.

Ice cream is running down their fingers in creamy, sticky streaks and it tastes everything Lambert thought ice cream from the ice cream cart would taste: cheap, too sugary and delicious.

In the end, Aiden sinks his teeth into the ice cream, raising exclamations of protest and indignation.

“Oh, Aiden, no!”

“You’re really bad at sharing,” Lambert says and he and Keira laugh when Aiden winces like someone who’s got a bad case of brain freeze.

“You guys just needed to eat faster,” Aiden replies when he’s recovered. “It’s survival of the fittest out here.” He holds out the remains of the ice cream to Keira.

“Oh no, you can keep it now. And don’t look so proud of yourself. You’re doing the dishes tonight.”

Aiden smiles, baring his teeth. “Worth it.”

“Terrible man.” She doesn’t bother keeping the fondness from her voice.

Later, Lambert takes Keira’s hand in his as they walk back to the car and Aiden slings an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me, I’m all gross and sweaty,” she warns him and he presses himself against her side, squishing his cheek against hers. She groans. “Dishes duty today and tomorrow.”

He laughs. Nothing gets to him.

They hiss as they settle into their seats, fake leather burning every inch of exposed skin.

“Am I the only one thinking the beach is kind of overrated?” Lambert says, brushing sand from between his toes. Keira smiles at him in the rearview mirror.

“Too many kids, man,” Aiden complains as he adjusts his hair with his fingers in the little mirror inside the sun visor.

“Let’s stay home next time.”

Keira drives them away and Lambert rests his head against the car door, swearing he can still feel the waves as he drifts to sleep.