#and then we go see her the next day and she’s significantly worse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

01zfan · 7 months ago

Text

show me | l. at

virgin!anton x fem. reader | 7.5k words

stop writing fics with mutual hopeless pining challenge FAILED.

contains: loss of virginity

“are you going on a date next week?”

you tried to sound even as you asked the question. you hid behind your phone while you spoke, only turning your head to the side to see anton’s reaction. you swore you could feel him tense beside you on the bed before he went back to his phone, swiping away on some social media app as he nodded his head.

“i didn’t know you knew about that.” anton said simply.

you went back to your own phone, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach dropped.

“your mom told me.” you responded.

you could hear anton sigh beside you, mentally cursing himself for trusting his mom with such personal information.

“we are going to go eat.” anton slid down his notification window on his phone, probably too see if his soon to be girlfriend had texted him “then we are going to watch a movie at her place.” he said.

knowing the details of the date made the pain significantly worse. it was already bad enough that you felt perpetually stuck in the friend zone with anton. the two of you were always like this—at one point in time all you wanted was to be his friend. but you grew up and so did he, and as your personalities began to differ you saw him as less of a friend and more as a partner.

it didn’t help that skinship with anton never changed. you two would still hold hands like you did when you were kids, and you two laid in beds and sat so close together on couches that your thighs would touch. one day you saw it platonically and one day you did not. you felt your body become hot when anton would get too close, and you would hesitate for no reason. anton was oblivious to it all, so much so that he started letting himself be pursued by girls. you had no choice but to watch it happen, girls that didn’t pay attention to anton talked to him now couldn’t get enough of him. you sat quietly, forced to seem as neutral as possible when they would curiously ask you what anton’s type was.

one girl was able to break through, giving anton his number and eventually asking him out on a date. this is what you gathered from his mother, atleast. she took you aside when you first came into their house, curiously asking you what you knew about a girl named belle. you remembered her, one of the more recent girls that tried for anton’s attention. you told her what you knew, that she was a girl who seemed nice. anton’s mother gave you a knowing smile as she told you anton had a date with her next week. she always had that smile on her face when she spoke to you now, especially when she caught you and anton sitting next to eachother on the couch when there was so much room left on the sofa.

you couldn’t hide your shock, quickly walking up to anton’s room as his mom was on her way out. something about running low on groceries and picking up anton’s brother from practice. everything was lost on you, the only thing occupying your mind was the thought of anton going on a date next week.

you tried to keep it to yourself, atleast until anton decided to tell you himself. but as you laid next to anton on his bed watching him scroll wordlessly on his phone you felt the question bubbling in the back of your throat. when you saw a notification from her pop up on anton’s phone you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing it up.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

anton only shrugged, clearing the notification from the top of his phone before turning off his device. he let his phone rest on his chest as he covered his eyes, an awkward laugh coming from his lips. he took his hands away, not making eye contact with you as he confessed.

“i’m embarrassed.” anton said.

he was still laughing lightly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. you shook your head, propping yourself up from the bed to look down at him.

“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you try not to focus too much on his lips or his eyes as you try to remain neutral. “you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything.” you say.

anton props himself up on his elbows, his face coming closer to yours. he is significantly worse at remaining neutral. anton’s eyes immediately go to your glossy lips and stay there. he swears they sparkle in the light of his room, and our eyes stare back at him so intensely he can’t look at them for too long.

too many times you have been stuck in this position with anton. you above him, your lips dangerously close to touching his. in times like this, almost always someone would interrupt this moment. whether it was his mom coming to tell you two food was ready, his brother barging into his room unannounced, sometimes even a notification on anton’s phone would bring you two back to the present. each time there was an outside force that would pull you two apart, acting as a buffer so you two could go back into your normal habits without mentioning what happened moments earlier. but now there was nothing to break the tension or to pull you two apart. it was only you, anton, an empty house, and unresolved feelings that existed in the space between your lips.

when you shifted on the bed and your hand got closer to anton’s body he couldn’t stop himself.

“i’ve never been with anyone before.” he rushed.

you blinked, pulling away from anton to sit up on the bed. you looked around the space of his room, until you circled back to him.

“is that why you’re nervous for your date? because you have no experience?” you asked.

the fog in anton’s mind almost made him ask you what date you were talking about. it wasn’t until anton’s phone rang from another texting notification that he remembered his obligation next weekend. maybe antoon was reading too much into the moment he shared with you, the shimmer on your lips distracted him. so anton nodded at your question, still feeling dizzy after being so close to kissing you.

anton sits up on his bed, leaning against his headboard as he draws his knees to his chest. he focuses on his knees, a habitual shy smile across his face as he avoids your gaze.

“i’m not prepared at all, if we go further.” anton brings one hand to scratch at the nape of his neck. “if she has experience i’m screwed.” anton says.

he can only bring himself to look at you when he feels you look away again. you look past anton to stare at his window, deep in thought as his eyes roam your side profile. you look so pretty like this, he wishes he had the nerve to tell you. part of anton wants to reach out and caress your soft cheek, something he hadn’t been able to do in so long. he has to hold himself back when you turn your head to look at him again.

“what about this.” anton sees the figurative bulb light up over your head as you shift on his bed. “what if i help you. like if i tell you what to do when you’re in that situation with her.” you say.

anton tilts his head when you paused before sayign her. the two of you have been going to school with anton’s future date for as long as he could remember. you knew belle’s name, you were her partner in a project together last week. why was belle suddenly her?

“what do you mean?” anton asked.

anton sees you feign annoyance, how even you realize what you’re proposing is ridiculous. regardless, you lean forward and move in front of anton. your balled up fists hold you upright on his bed, dipping the mattress as you try to justify your reasoning.

“i want to help you not be embarrassed.” you lean back, sitting on the back of your legs as you gently smooth out anton’s sheets with your hands “so you can become confident in expressing your feelings.” you say.

what you say fully sinks in for anton. he feels heat blossom in his chest and spread across his body like a wildfire. he doesn’t know if there’s enough confidence in the world to help anton. he can’t even bring himself to confirm what you’re offering.

“do you mean—” he stutters.

“we can go as far as you’re comfortable with.” you put your hand over anton’s quickly as if you’re trying to compensate for coming on strong. “i don’t want you to mess it up with her.” you reason.

there’s that her again.

“with belle?” anton specifies.

you don’t say her name, only nod your head as you keep your hand on anton’s. he doesn’t know if he should believe you, the situation is too confusing for anton to navigate. you were unpredictable in this way, sometimes so non-assuming you didn’t know what you were hinting at. anton had to be direct, but he had to let his heart calm down first. his eyes went back to looking at your hand resting over his. you were squeezing him at first, but your grip loosened to the point that anton feared you were going to pull away. he had to keep you there, he had to keep feeling your soft hand on top of his.

“just a friend helping another friend out?” anton asks, looking up at you from your hand.

anton sees you hesitate before you nod.

“completely as friends.” you confirm.

anton nods his head, bringing his knees down to sit criss crossed on his bed. now that you two have agreed, neither of you knew how to proceed. it was almost awkward. you felt the urge to go back on your word.

“should we start with kissing?” anton asked.

you nodded your head, scooting closer to anton on the bed. he got closer too, you could see his chest raise and fall quickly as his hands moved towards you. anton talked himself out of touching you, his hands falling back onto the top of his mattress.

“you should touch her first.” you look down at anton’s hands, wishing they were on you instead. you bring wide eyes back to anton, trying to blink away how wet they already feel. “it’s hard but making the first move from the start matters.” you say.

anton nods, bringing his hands up to your shoulder. it’s awkward, you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he hesitates on where to put it. he squeezes gently and shakes you softly, smiling at you. you smile at him for a second before a shy laugh slips out. anton does the same, giggling as he brings his free hand to cover his toothy grin.

“i don’t know if i know how to kiss.” anton giggles out truthfully.

you nod, and when your laughing subsides you bring anton’s hand from his mouth to rest on your cheek. instantly he’s caressing your skin, light as a feather as you fit into his hand perfectly.

“you can still bring her in.” anton begins pulling you in, his mouth slightly opening as his lips get closer to yours. before they can touch, you speak, desperate to cut through the tension. “let her guide you once you start and you’ll get the hang of it.” you say.

you look up to anton’s eyes one more time, and he nods again before going back to his previous position. he brings you in an you follow in closer, screwing your eyes shut your your lips finally touch.

anton melds to you like it’s second nature. he follows the curves of your lips, and only stumbles for a second before following your lead perfectly. your hand finds its way to his hair, holding the soft strands for comfort. when you tilt your head anton follows, and when you move to the other side anton does the same.

you go from pecks to lingering wet kisses. the sound of your lips parting fills the room, the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. it’s soft like anton’s hand on your cheek, how he got the courage to tilt your head up to his liking. you submit instantly, reveling in anton taking the reigns. it’s him who slips a tongue into your mouth first, and you let him explore your mouth. when his tongue presses against yours you do it back, swapping spit between eachothers mouths.

you’re the one that has to pull away for air first. you almost stay there, intoxicated by the way anton sighs contently into you. but you feel your heart is about to explode. when you finally pull away you’re breathless, looking at your fast learner in awe. anton looks at you with wide eyes, running his tongue over his glossy lips to see if he can taste you again.

“you’re a natural.” you say breathlessly.

“thank you.” anton says back.

he’s just as rattled as you, his mussed hair reflecting his scrambled mind. anton pulls you back in with both hands while you still try catching your breath, placing one last wet kiss on your lips. your hands go to his shoulders and stay there even when he pulls apart from you.

you two still hold eachother, huffing in air like you both just ran a mile. anton comes back first, eyes determined as he takes his hands away from your face.

“what’s next?” anton asks.

you have to sit there and think, not because you don’t know what comes after passionate makeout sessions. you have to gather your thoughts, thinking how you can be normal about your friendship with anton if the two of you go any further. you decide that’s something for later when anton puts his hands on your legs and gives you a look that has your heart leaping in your chest.

“she might only let you finger her since it’s the first date.” you start reaching for your pants. “you have really nice hands so that’s a plus. definitely play into that.”

you wanted to cringe at how you sounded, saying something so lewd so casually. anton was all ears though, not teasing you for the compliment you have wanted to tell him a million times before. his phone was long discarded as he sat up on his bed in front of you. he had his fisted hands pressed into the mattress beside him, flexing his fist as he listened to what you were saying. he nodded at everythin, eyes focused on new parts of your body that were exposed as you got yourself undressed. first it was your thighs and then your calfs as you struggled to take your pants off.

anton was too shy to offer his help, but something inside of him liked seeing you struggle and liked seeing you get undressed for him. before you could expose your stomach, you paused. anton’s eyes went from your thighs and how they were pressed together to your face.

“this is a disclaimer, before we go any further.” anton clenched his fist again when you let go of your shirt, letting it drape down your body again. “she might want you to do things a different way. not all girls are the same.” you say matter-of-factly.

“just show me what you like.” when your eyes got wide anton quickly defended himself. “i can figure out the rest with her when the time comes.”

you nodded your head, agreeing with his reasoning. you and anton sat like that for a minute in complete silence while you gathered your thoughts. anton was patient and he was obedient, giving you his hand instantly when you reached out for it.

you brought his hand to your face, using your own hands to bring his ring and pinky finger to his palm. when only antons thumb, index finger, and middle finger were left you guided his hand to rest on your lips. you slowly opened your mouth and anton understood, shivering while he pushed his fingers past your plush lips.

when his fingers were inside of your mouth he left them rest on top of your tongue. you nodded approvingly, and anton nodded back as he let his thumb rest underneath your chin. he took charge slightly, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks.

what you truly wanted anton to do was stick his fingers so far into your mouth that you gagged on them. but you settled for his large fingers pressing lightly on your tongue. you could see his mouth fall open as you made a show of sucking on him.

“okay now pull them out” you mumbled around his fingers.

anton nodded his head, but before he pulled out his fingers out he brought your chin forward with his thumb, eyes focused on his fingers as he stuck them further into your mouth. the entranced look in anton’s eyes distracted you, and before you could prepare yourself his fingers went too far. you gagged pathetically when anton’s fingers went past your tongue.

anton’s gaze went from his fingers in your mouth to your eyes. he had a look you had never seen, so different from the your shy bestfriend. he kept them there for a beat too short, before you could ease your throat to stop your eyes from getting glossy anton withdrew his fingers slowly. when he saw your eyes get glossy he pulled them out slowly. both of you looked at the the string of spit that connected your lip to his fingers.

“sorry” anton said sheepishly.

as fast as you saw the look in anton’s eyes it was gone, replaced with the same shy expression you were used to seeing. he kept his two fingers together in the air, waiting for your next instructions. you look down at your legs, how they pressed together. the image of anton prying them apart while he had that look in his eyes flashed across your mind. you closed your eyes before looking back up at anton with a thinking look. anton shifted on the bed as you leaned back, following your movements until you moved your legs from underneath you.

when your legs were bent in front of you, anton stayed still. his wet fingers were still in the air, drying from the cool air in his room. you smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his hand, putting it on your knee.

“make sure you always ask if everything is okay, especially if it’s the first time.” you say.

you start applying light pressure to anton’s hand on your knee, showing him to lightly spread your legs apart. he understands immediately, bringing his other hand to your other knee to part them.

“is this okay?” anton asks.

it’s genuine, the way he looks at you with big eyes. you wordlessly nod your head, leaning back to prop yourself on your hands while anton continues spreading you apart.

when you add resistance against anton’s push, he stops completely. you can see him remembering the distance between your parted knees. she is so lucky.

when a sigh slips from your lips anton’s gaze snaps up to you. you play it off well, moving your shoulders slightly to feign contemplation. before anton can ask you what next, you point your feet.

“help me take my underwear off.” you say.

any attempt to sound bossy is hindered by the hush in your voice. you’re being too soft but you can’t help it. you’re lucky anton is too focused on getting you undressed he doesn’t notice the way you bite at your lip nervously.

anton’s hands are timid as his fingers go underneath your waistband. he thinks it would be easier if he approached the situation like ripping off a bandaid, but it’s slow as he pulls your panties up to your thighs and down your knee. your pointed feet helps anton in the end, he leaves the pair next to him on the bed, dropped gently from his hand.

anton sees the first definite crack in your composure when he can’t take his eyes away from your core. you glisten and seize around nothing. the pornos he’s watched and the stories he’s heard falls short—nothing can compare to you.

“wow.” anton sighs.

your knees wobble as you try to close them in subconsciously. anton keeps them apart, slotting himself between your legs to stop them from closing completely he will fight anything that tries to obstruct his view of you. anton looks down at you to watch you change your pleased expression a beat to late.

“flattery will get you very far, anton.” you say.

you try to be sarcastic, but anton is serious as he shakes his head. one of his hands leaves your knee to press on your pearl that protrudes at the top of your cunt. you jolt from the feeling, fists balling the sheets. maybe the pornos got some things right. anton looks at your face, watching more and more of your resolve crumbles in from of him. you are stubborn, clearing your throat to try and bring back some volume to your voice.

“i’m wet already. feel it.” you say.

anton’s finger that presses your pearl drifts down. he can feel you wet and slick against his fingers. he pulls his hand away from you and rubs it between his thumb and index finger.

“that’s how you know you’re doing something atleast a little right.” you shift your hips closer to anton, inviting him to touch you some more. anton went back to touching your folds, pressing in slightly. you could tell he was looking for your hole, and you let him find on his own. you shivered as anton got closer and closer, going further down your cunt. when he found he he pressed in slightly. you showed him he was right by sighing and arching your back.

“it’s lower than i thought.” anton laughed quietly to himself.

“yeah.” you said breathlessly.

you were caught up in the feeling of anton’s probing fingers so close to being fully inside of you. you almost forgot you had a job to do as anton’s bestfriend.

“start off with just one finger. your hands are big.” you say.

anton pushes in a finger, looking up at you as he eases in. you clamp around his fingers before relaxing, allowing him to go all the way inside of you. anton pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, watching the way his digit disappears inside of you.

“holy shit.” anton whispers.

you clench around his finger, before telling him to put another finger in. anton heeds your request, adding his middle finger to sink into your cunt. you can’t stop your hand from grabbing his bicep. anton stops, and you guide him to a faster pace.

your hold on anton’s bicep doesn’t falter as he picks up the speed. when he takes it upon himself to face his palm upwards the discomfort in his wrist is gone immediately. his fingers can fuck you smoothly when he faces his palm upwards. the confidence anton gets when you close your eyes and turn your head to your shoulder makes him add another finger. he can hear your toes crack as you flex your feet, and anton sees your free hand ball up in the sheets.

“do this with your other hand if you can.”

the words fly out of your mouth at your hand on anton’s bicep goes to your clit. you show anton the speed you like immediately, touching the pearl gently in comparison to anton’s hasty pumping fingers. his free hand goes to your hand, mimicking the movements. when you’re satisfied you move your hand away, letting anton take your place. he falters for a little bit, trying to synchronize his pumping fingers to his gentle hand on your clit. soon enough he can feel you squeezing tightly against his fingers, and your eyes are screwed shut.

“i’m so close.” you say around the teeth digging into your lip.

anton nods, wishing he was good enough at multitasking to kiss your turned cheek. instead anton only nods, sitting down on his bed to get a better angle.

without his body between your legs, your knees close in on eachother. it’s pathetic, the way you whimper and withhold moans as you come undone around anton’s fingers. you’re so quiet he doesn’t know you came. so anton continues, waiting for you to call out his name and announce to him how good he’s making you feel. anton doesn’t know you came until near cries come out, and your hands go to his wrists to stop him. anton looks at you confused, until he sees the tears dotting your vision again and your shaking shoulders. anton experimentally presses a finger harshly to your clit, you jolt and whimper again.

“sorry.” anton says unapologetically.

you fall onto your back, looking up at anton’s ceiling fan. it’s completely turned off, you imagine the blades are spinning to try and occupy your mind. your knees are still closed on eachother and you tremble occasionally. you put all your brainpower into the nonmoving blades to distract yourself from anton’s hands on your thighs that spread you further apart. you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. when his breath fans your center you shiver, still dealing with the after effects of your orgasm. when anton comes so close that his nose pokes your fold you pinch the covers on his bed between your two fingers.

“what should i do?” anton asks.

even if you are not looking at anton, you can tell he’s not all the way there with you. you can feel his eyes boring into your heat, you can almost hear him bringing in your smell. you have to clear your own thoughts to focus getting words out from your dry throat.

“you have to tease first.” you swallow on nothing. “to like build the tension, ya know?”

you don’t know when you’ll drop the act of trying to remain nonchalant. hiding your moans requires self control you don’t have anymore. when anton presses a kiss to your thigh you let him hear the sighs you tried so hard to suppress. anton smiles against your skin when he kisses the other side.

“how should i eat you out?” anton asks.

you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at anton. he’s curious, eyes filled with you as he presses a kiss closer to your cunt. you bring your your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“pretending like you’re making out with me.” you whimper.

anton’s eyes widen at your desperate voice. you can’t bring yourself to care anymore, you can’t hold back when anton keeps eye contact with you as his tongue gets closer and closer to your heat. he looks down at your pussy like it’s his next meal, latching his lips to your clit and sucking.

instantly your back is pressed into the mattress again, squirming as you try to stop yourself from thrusting into anton’s mouth. he’s a step ahead, putting hands underneath your ass to prop your lower half up. he goes into his own groove, letting his tongue occasionally poke past your hole to taste you. when anton compares your noises, he finds himself driven to continue sucking on your clit. he knows he made the right decision when he hears your moan rip through his room for the first time. he looks up to your with satisfaction, when he starts using his fingers to fuck you again your hand grips his hair tightly.

“are you sure you’re a virgin?” you ask genuinely.

when anton’s laugh vibrates against you, you dig your back into the mattress. you pathetically lift your suspended hips into anton’s mouth. you feel euphoria building over you again, and you push antons face back from your pussy with a hand to his forehead.

anton looks at you like a man starved before licking his lips.

“is everything okay?” anton asks.

you nod, a hand going to your face as you wipe sweat away. you close your eyes to save yourself from the stimulation, remaining quiet until your foggy mind can form full sentences again. you sit up fully on the bed and anton’s meets you, bringing you in to kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips, and you can feel his wet fingers touch your face. when you pull away you still keep your lips against his.

“do you want to wait until next week—” you look at anton unsure, feeling his hot cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. you don’t want to assume his feelings for you, or take something he might’ve been saving for someone that isn’t his bestfriend. “do you want to wait until next week to go all the way?” you ask

anton shakes his head, both of his hands going to the side of your head to force eye contact. you look him in the eyes before he brings you in for another big kiss.

“i think i found the confidence to tell you how i feel now.” anton says.

“i’ve wanted you for so long.” you say.

anton nods his head, telling you he’s felt the same way.

“we are a mess.” anton says laughing.

you laugh with him again, your head going to anton’s shoulder as you recall all the moments you both chose to ignore. the fleeting looks, the accidental touches, the almost kisses. it’s almost embarrassing that it took you guys this long to come to terms and to confess, under these circumstances nonetheless. it would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny.

anton pulls you from his shoulder and kisses your forehead again, and you grab his face to kiss his forehead back. anton smiles and pecks your lips.

“i’m ready.” anton says.

you nod your head, trying to sound as assertive as possible.

“the guy should always bring a condom.” you say it matter-of-factly, holding up a finger like it’s a fact.

anton laughs at you again, before reaching to his drawer. he pulls out an unopened box of condoms, mouth opening getting ready to ask anton a question.

“my dad.” when your eyes widen anton only shakes his head. “don’t ask. please don’t ask.” he says.

you nod your head, grabbing the box from anton to open it. you pull out the first one, tearing it from the foil like and the opening the package. anton watches you pull out the rubber, small in your hand. you look at anton, still clothed, clad in tight jeans that strain against his dick and a shirt that is too hot on him. as if on cue he stumbles over the edge of the bed, taking off his pants and shirt leaving him in his briefs.

when he gets on the bed in the same position, you still hold the condom in your hand. you look at anton twitching in his boxers. you resist the urge to pounce on him when you see the wet patch in his underwear.

“can i see it?” you don’t hide the desperate lift in your voice. anton is nervous, hands pressed flat to his thighs in efforts to wipe off the sweat. “please?” you beg.

anton nods, leaning back on the bed the same way you did when he took your underwear off. you lean forward on the bed, handing the condom to anton and you gently pull his waistband down his legs. you imagine anton wanted to be treated the same way he treated you, slow and gentle like you’re made of glass. by the time his underwear is off his face is red in splotches, the tips of his ears hot to the touch. you would’ve seen anton’s face get more red by the second if you weren’t staring at his dick, it was thick, shooting straight up without the confinements of his briefs. his tip was pink and soft like his lips, and beading endless with precum. the translucent pearls made his dick look like porcelain. you smile at anton before sticking touching his leaking tip gently.

“so pretty.” you coo.

anton shakes his head, his large hand clasping around your wrist when you tried pumping his dick. his sensitivity went without saying, and you didn’t want to waste it either. you tapped on anton’s wrist to make him open his eyes, pointing to the condom in his clenched hand when he looked at you.

“sorry.” anton said.

“don’t apologize.” you pinch the tip of the condom, sliding the band down until anton’s dick is covered completely. “you don’t have to apologize to me.”

anton hisses, bucking his hips up when you experimentally squeeze his length.

“and why is that?” anton asks.

“i’m your bestfriend.” you say casually.

when friend falls from your lips anton scoffs and shakes his head. he checks to see if the condom is on securely, touching his length to see what contact feels like.

“think we are a little more than that now.” anton says under his breath.

you coo at him, pinching his cheeks before letting your hands explore the rest of his body. when you reach anton’s shoulders you gently tug at him, bringing him to you. you let yourself lean back on anton’s bed again as you continue pulling him by his shoulders. when your back is against the sheets anton is hovering over you, and he’s so close that his hair touches your face. he moves a hand to plant into the mattress beside your head to hold himself upright. his other hand grips your hip, a hold so tight like anton thinks you’ll slip away. you’re the same, a white knuckle grip on his shoulders.

you look up at anton, and he swears he sees your eyes soften. they’re gentle and welcoming, like your pupils have become heart shaped. anton uses his hand planted into the mattress to move some hair from your face. you pucker your lips and make a kissing sound, signaling to anton to press his lips against yours. when he pulls back you take a hand from his shoulder and trail it down his body. you look at him with each inch you cover. when anton bites his lip you hesitate, worried that he might suddenly decide he’s not ready. but anton hangs his head low to look between your two bodies, how close your hand is to grabbing his dick again.

he whimpers and instantly goes to the crook of your neck, his sheets balling up in his clenched fists. you pump his dick a few times, wishing to yourself that a condom wasn’t separating the two of you. there will be plenty of time for that later you have to tell yourself. you focus instead on anton, how he hopelessly sucks on the skin of your neck as you jerk him off.

“i really won’t last long.” anton says.

his words are hushed and fan across your skin in warm huffs. you nod, moving your other hand to the back of anton’s head.

“it’s okay.” you continue jerking anton off until he lets out a shaky exhale. you stop pumping, pulling his head from the crook of your neck so you can look at him. “can you help me?” you ask sweetly.

instantly anton nods his head.

“what do you need me to do?” anton asks.

for a moment he thinks he might be crushing you underneath his body weight. before he can pull back your hand that moved to his shoulder blades keeps him in pace. you’re sheepish, the hand that was on anton’s dick goes to his hand that’s on your hip. you wrap your hands around his pinky finger, holding tight as you tug at his hand slightly.

“let’s put it in together.” you say.

anton swallows, both of your hands are slow going back to his dick. the anticipation has you both ready to leap out of your skin, and when you put your hands to anton both of you gasp. it’s a new feeling, your hand over anton’s as he guides his tip to your cunt. you already feel your hole fluttering around nothing, pulsing like a heartbeat. anton has to take his hand away when he gets too close, instead propping his elbow beside your head so he can hover above you.

his lips are already parted, and you see the glossy look in his eyes as you pump his length a few more times.

“are you ready?“ you ask.

you feel nearly out of breath yourself. when you move lower down on the bed anton’s tip prods your entrance, almost inside of you.

“i’m ready.” anton says.

you almost close your eyes when you feel anton push his hips against yours—the only thing that keeps them open is so your can look at anton above you. his eyes shut in euphoria as he pushes deeper into you. you don’t tell anton to stop while taking all of him, you revel in the stretch and the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part even more. a whimper slips past anton’s lips and he lets his head hand when he’s all the way in. he whimpers again when you seize around him, and a big hand squeezes on your waist.

“so big.” you whisper to anton.

he stays like that above you for awhile, falling victim to your warm wet fluttering walls and your sweet voice. his grip on your waist is rough but it the only thing keeping him grounded. anton twitches inside of you and he clenches the first next to your head. each attempt to move fails, it’s almost like you’re pulling him back in.

“can i move?” anton asks.

when he lifts his head back up, he sees you wide eyed nodding vigorously. you lift your own hips slightly, giving anton room to pull back to meet you again. he draws a shaky breath as he feels his dick dragging out of you. when he slides back in slowly anton’s head goes to the crook of your neck. your hand goes to anton’s back, pressing gently to bring him closer.

“what does it feel like?” you draw your hips back and forth, giving anton shallow thrusts.

“warm and wet.” anton’s voice shakes as he slowly starts thrusting into you. “like a really nice hug.” he says.

you hum at anton’s observation, desperate to know what it feels like to him. you want to tell anton how good he’s being, how he fits perfectly inside of you and makes you feel full. but this is about anton, you have plenty of time to tell him how he makes you feel later.

you wedge your hand between your bodies and press on your stomach, letting out a sigh when you feel your stomach tighten. anton keeps the slow deep thrusts, panting into the crook of your neck. when he snaps his hips a particular way, an unexpected choked whine slips past your lips. anton pulls away from your skin looking down at you.

anton’s blown out eyes look down at you. you can already see his face becoming red and splotchy as he takes you in. he looks at your lips, where a sound he’s never heard before came from and to your eyes that were wet just like his. the previous accidental thrust becomes purposeful, anton snaps his hips the same way he did before while looking at your face. the sound falls from you again, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open. anton does it again, and you can see his hair and the apples of his cheeks move from the force. the fourth time anton snaps his hips harder, and your back arches off the bed.

“so big.” you say into anton’s ear.

you press your hand deeper into your stomach, ad anton presses his forehead to yours to look down between your two bodies. he looks only for a second before his hooded eyes go back to yours.

his mouth opens as he looks down at you, words caught in his throat as he focuses on thrusting inside of you. but you already know what he’s going to ask. you press your hand deeper into your stomach while nodding your head.

“so deep.” you whine.

anton’s parted lips turn into a smile, a quick smirk that reveals his perfect teeth. you only see it for a second before anton goes back to feeling weak. anton switches his snapping hips to something more languid, trading the harsh slapping for the smooth and wet sound you two make together.

anton’s hair is wet with sweat as you fist it, pulling it away from his face so you can see all of him. you keep his head against yours, pressing gentle kisses to his plush lips.

“you feel so good inside of me, anton.” you tell him.

he can only nod quickly, drops of sweat falling onto you as he picks up the pace. your hand that pressed into your stomach moves to your clit. when you touch the bundle of nerves the moans fall from your lips, moving anton to do the same thing. his sounds are airy gasps, almost crying while yours become pouty.

the two of you no longer speak while you chase your instincts. anton’s languid thrusts turn to rutting hips, and all your reservations flies out the window as you bring your knee to your chest. anton’s hand on your hip helps you, applying force to the back of your thigh to press it closer. the new angle makes anton fuck you deeper and harder, you give up circling your clit to put both hands on anton for stability. he lifts his body from yours slightly, looking down at all of you. when you feel his eyes drift down from your face to your chest, you arch your back to come closer to his mouth. anton gives you a quick look of uncertainty and you soften your features to show him how desperate you feel, how close you are. you don’t get the chance to beg for something more when anton bends his body to attach his lips to your nipple.

you’re quick reacting to anton wet tongue that laves your senstive skin. you’re propping yourself up on one of your elbows in a second, forcing your hand to grip anton’s sheets to find stability. you arch your back and fist anton’s hair, the stimulation from his rutting hips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin makes you pull his hair at the root.

“i’m so close.” you whimper.

you look down at anton, how he is so content sucking on your chest. when he looks up at you with little hearts swimming around in his big brown eyes you let your head lean back.

it’s too fast, you can’t announce you’re cumming before it hits you in full force. your leg twitches as anton’s grip on your thigh tightens, pushing you further to open you up more. he hits deep, and your cries bounce off the walls in his room. you are nearly crying when anton stills inside of you—he didn’t get the chance to warn you either. one moment he had control the next he didn’t, emptying into the condom as your name falls from his parted lips in pants and high-pitched whines. anton has to screw his eyes shut from the relief that takes over his body, and when he finally comes down he slumps against your body completely.

you let anton crush you, loving the feeling of his sweaty body pressing into yours. you can still feel him twitching inside of you and you can still feel your walls flutter around him.

neither of you move until you hear the front door open and anton’s mom call you both down to help bring the groceries inside. the two of you were so caught up in your own world you forgot other people existed. you nearly kicked anton off of you, pushing him backwards so you could put your clothes back on. anton’s door was left open, and you could hear his brother making his way up the stairs. the two of you rushed trying to become decent. you threw on anton’s shirt and almost put your jeans on backwards. anton ended up grabbing a completely new outfit, tripping over his feet as he put his shorts on.

the steps were getting closer to anton’s room when you guys started to desperately smooth out eachother’s features, trying to lay anton’s hair down straight while anton time making his shirt on you not look like his shirt.

his brother did a once over of you and anton, standing in the middle of his room looking frazzled. he decided he didn’t care, walking out of sight as he went into his room.

“mom said to come downstairs.” he said over his shoulder.

“okay.” when anton’s voice sounded too hoarse he cleared his throat. “be down there in a second.” anton said.

#requestz #01zfan: anton #anton smut #riize smut

992 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 9 months ago

Text

venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF ? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count).

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!”

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one.

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.”

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?”

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.”

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention.

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed.

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?”

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.”

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation.

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.”

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.”

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?”

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.”

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.”

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.”

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.”

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?”

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…”

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?”

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene.

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm.

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up.

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out.

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others.

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy.

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over.

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?”

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.”

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.”

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked.

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?”

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.”

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too.

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.”

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?”

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked.

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.”

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks.

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him.

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?”

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?”

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.”

“Probably,” Angus said simply.

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.”

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.”

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic.

“No,” you told him.

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next.

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time.

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.”

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!”

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked.

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.”

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.”

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.”

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged.

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.”

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.”

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.”

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say?

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes.

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that.

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?”

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?”

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?”

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said.

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same.

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.”

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said.

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?”

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.”

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked.

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked.

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.”

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.”

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him.

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly.

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up.

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief.

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?”

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?”

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.”

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?”

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.”

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.”

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone.

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?”

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.”

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!”

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said.

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.”

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?”

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.”

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ.

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class.

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him.

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.”

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.”

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school.

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.”

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged.

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.”

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas.

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office.

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.”

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.”

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.”

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?”

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.”

You nodded silently.

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked.

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.”

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you.

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.”

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.”

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives.

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone.

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book.

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room.

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.”

“Who?” you asked.

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.”

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.”

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?”

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?”

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?”

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.”

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…”

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!”

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said.

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here!”

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment.

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open.

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great.

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath.

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?”

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap.

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently.

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked.

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—”

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.”

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked.

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.”

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.”

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway.

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?”

“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.”

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.”

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.”

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly.

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.”

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.”

“Shut up,” you huffed.

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?”

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room.

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline.

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep.

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway.

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.”

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.”

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.”

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.”

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.”

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night.

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked.

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!”

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked.

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy— I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?”

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end.

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!”

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.”

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.”

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.”

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked.

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into—

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.”

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?”

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled.

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.”

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled.

“Guess so,” Angus echoed.

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it.

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours.

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch.

Accurate, you countered.

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?”

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!”

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly.

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement.

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop.

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.”

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin.

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?”

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.”

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard.

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone.

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up.

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?”

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?”

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.”

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.”

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus.

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.”

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”.

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers

937 notes · View notes

buckyandgeraltsupremacy · 10 months ago

Text

remus x shy!reader (part 5)

author: sj

warnings: fluff; BARELY sexual content if you really squint; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited

next and probably last part will be the other boys finding out !!!!! :)

masterlist

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

---

remus felt like he was going to explode. if he didn't kiss you he was going to lose his mind. it all started the week after you had gone on that first date. sirius had made the comment about you snogging someone and then all of a sudden, all he could think about was your lips.

he had woken up from a very vivid dream about your lips and how soft they would be, a warm, fluttery feeling floating in his chest, heart beating wildly while your lips started moving down towards his chest. he could feel you light laugh giggling against his neck while you smiled, moving your way down. remus had woken with a start in the middle of the night, abruptly realizing that you kissing his neck wasn't real.

the next day in class, all he could think about was your lips, moving their way across his body mapping it. he also had to keep readjusting his pants at the thought of you and it only got worse when he had to look at you, eyes drawing towards your lips every time he looked at you.

not only did he struggle with this for a week, but it was also getting close to the full moon and remus was going to cry if he didn't get to kiss you and now, which led to now.

"hey rem!" you exclaimed, eyes brightening and smile getting bigger as you realized he was in the common room, curiously without the other boys. he loved the way you weren't shy around him anymore. the unguarded way that you let your smile shine when talking to him.

"hi bun." he said back, arms wrapping around you as you immediately wrapped yourself around him. you sighed into his touch. nothing compared to being wrapped in your favorite person's embrace. hugs were always welcome with you and your friends, but there's something about remus' hugs that made you all warm inside, melting all your insecurities away and replacing them with warm confidence.

"love, can we talk?" your heart immediately drops at his words, anxiety creeping up into your throat.

"yeah? whats wrong rem?" you ask, pulling away from him slightly to look up into his face.

"nothings wrong love. i just... can't do it anymore." your heart is increasing at this point, thinking he's going to tell you that he's in love with someone. of course he is, why wouldn't he be in love with someone, he's one of the best men you've ever met. or he's uncomfortable with how touchy you are with him. you immediately start panicking.

"what do you mean?" remus can see the panic swirling in your face and how your face has significantly drained of color.

"no, no, bun. i just can't stop pretending i don't have feelings for you. i'm tired of not telling you how beautiful you are, how i want to tell everyone you're mine, and how i just so desperately want to kiss you." remus rushes out, making sure that you don't think he is trying to get rid of you, if anything he just wants more of you.

you stare at his eyes, brain trying to process the information that just came into your ears. you felt your heart beating extra hard, the words you had always dreamed of hearing coming out of remus' mouth not registering in your brain.

"what?" you asked.

"i like you, bun. and if you don't feel the same, we can just move on, but if you do, please let me kiss you." you can hear yourself audibly swallow.

"but rem. i don't... i've never kissed anyone. what if i don't it right?" you whisper, cringing at how pathetic it sounds coming out. remus' eyes widen and a small smirk lifts his lips.

"bun, you couldn't be anymore perfect if you tried. kissing will come naturally to you. plus a little practice has never hurt anyone." he smirks, his eyes looking between yours and going down to your lips. you smiled at his response and tilted your face up towards his. his met yours eagerly and gently, causing your knees to weaken. his big hands came up to your face and cupped your cheeks and after a minute of savoring the moment, he pulled away and your eyes opened to see his gleaming back at you.

"you are the sweetest thing in my life, bun." all you could do was grin back, heat creeping up to your face.

#remus lupin x reader fluff #remus x reader fluff #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #marauders era #the marauders #marauders x reader #marauders

471 notes · View notes

sapphire-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: The end of the fall semester is a week away! One game left before winter break, and you decide to send Aegon a message.

rating: 18+ (detailed warning below the cut)

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ Ch. 7: Superstitious ~ next chapter

warnings: p in v, choking, thigh riding, angst, spanking, hair pulling, language

note: hope you enjoy this chapter! don't hate me too much for the angst you know I can't help myself!!

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“I have to go home,” Helaena tells you, dropping her bag and joining you and Sara on the blanket you’ve laid out on the quad.

Sara lowers her sunglasses. The days have turned significantly colder with the end of the semester looming, but today the sun had decided to show itself, leading to many students skipping their afternoon classes to sunbathe on the quad.

“What are you talking about?” Sara asks, eyebrows furrowing together with confusion.

“There’s still a week left before winter break!” you exclaim, motioning to the books you held in your lap.

Finals season. Finals season was killer.

Aegon had passed his midterms. He’d sent you an appreciative text that sent you spiraling and then hadn’t texted you since. It had been a couple of weeks. You were sure he’d reach out, especially after his annoyance at you avoiding him.

But he hadn’t.

You wished it wasn’t eating away at you, but it was. Even when you hung out with Cregan, went on several more dates to dinner, the movies, and ice cream. Your mind constantly wandered back to Aegon.

Bastard.

“My dad’s getting worse,” Helaena admitted, crossing her legs as she sat.

You and Sara exchanged a pained glance. You knew Helaena’s father wasn’t doing well, his health had been steadily declining the past few years. He seemed to be pretty stable the past year, Helaena hadn’t shared any updates.

Aegon hadn’t shared anything with you.

Not that he needed to. What were you even? Friends? Classmates? Lovers? You cringed internally at the thought.

“I wanted to stay for Egg’s last game before winter break,” Helaena said, shaking her head,

“But..I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?” Sara probed.

Helaena pursed her lips, eyebrows knitting together. She looked past you and Sara as though seeing something far away that the both of you could not see.

“Just like…it may be sooner than I thought,” she tells you both, “and I want to be able to say goodbye.”

“What about Aegon?” you blurt out, unable to stop yourself.

Helaena glances at you, but there’s no suspicion in her eyes even as she takes in the blush blooming on your cheeks.

“He’s in the family group chat,” she tells you, “He sees Mom’s texts. I can’t corral all my brothers, they can come if they want to.”

You nod, pulling your eyes away from her gaze.

“Has he mentioned something?” she asks.

“What?” you answer, “To me? Why would he mention something to me?”

Sara grimaces at the defensiveness of your tone. You can feel sweat beading on the back of your neck.

“You’re his tutor, aren’t you?” she questions.

“We sort of stopped that.”

��Oh,” Helaena says, picking at a loose thread on her jeans, “That’s a shame.”

“Is it?” you ask, “Aegon wasn’t super serious.”

“He was really proud of his midterm, look,” Helaena says grabbing her phone.

She turns the screen to you and you’re greeted by a selfie of Aegon holding the blue test packet up next to his grinning face. His eyes are crinkled with how hard he’s smiling, and his finger points to the B- written in red on the top corner. You can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips or the way your heart begins to beat furiously in your chest as you stare at Helaena’s phone.

“He worked really hard,” you tell Helaena, “But my tutoring days are over.”

“Maybe Lydia will help him,” Helaena muses, swiping through her notifications.

You tilt your head, curiosity gnawing at your insides.

“Lydia?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Sara flicks her gaze toward you, raising an eyebrow. Helaena hums, still scrolling through her phone. Sara bites her lip, fighting a laugh before making a curious face.

“Are they dating, Hel?” Sara asks, and you widen your eyes at her.

Sara merely shrugs.

“Um, well Egg doesn’t really date, but they’ve been spending a lot of time together since formal,” Helaena tells her, finally glancing up from her phone, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious about all the hot men on campus,” Sara says, smiling.

“Gross,” Helaena answers, “Shouldn’t you only be concerned about Jace?”

“I’m very concerned about Jace,” Sara says, placing a hand over her heart, “Concerned about his gorgeous, thick, co-”

“Enough!” Helaena interrupts, covering her ears.

Sara snickers and you rise from the blanket, gathering your things.

“Where are you going?” Sara asks, watching you pack your bag.

“Class.”

You head out, leaving your friends on the quad without saying another word, stomach churning at the thought of Aegon and Lydia.

You don’t see Aegon as you’re sitting with Sara in the bleachers before the game. Both of you are clad in Cregan and Jace’s jerseys.

It’s tradition, the last game before winter break, the end of the first half of the season.

“You’re dating the goalie, you wear his jersey,” Brandon Karstark had told you.

“Silly superstition,” Arryx argued.

“It’s not like she’s his girlfriend,” Reese Bolton had said.

It was true. You and Cregan had been on several dates and made out in his car, but you hadn’t gone any further. In any way.

“Doesn’t matter,” John Umber told his friend, “She still has to wear it.”

I see you at another game in his jersey, I’m fucking you in it.

When the team comes onto the ice, the crowd roars, the sound of cheers almost deafening. You watch the team do a lap around the ice, Cregan sparing you a wave, and the flash of a smile, Jace close on his tail. You spot Aegon, he’s hard to miss, at least to you.

I see you at another game in his jersey, I’m fucking you in it.

His threat lingers in your mind, sending an ache between your thighs. When he looks up at the stands, his violet eyes meet yours. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to make sure your face doesn’t give away any of the mixed emotions you’re feeling.

Aegon drags his eyes down your face to your chest, drinking in the outfit you’re wearing. You dressed it up, the jersey falling right to the middle of your thighs completely covering the biker shorts you paired underneath. Fishnet tights decorate the rest of your legs and Aegon’s gaze hungrily follows the pattern down to your ankles.

As he brings his eyes back up to meet yours, you can feel your cheeks burning. Aegon grins, showing all his perfect, pearly white teeth, cocking his head to the side. No words are exchanged between you, but you understand what that look conveys.

You fucked around, you’re about to find out.

Naturally, after the team wins they head to the hockey house. You’d hoped to cling to Cregan at the party to avoid Aegon, but your plan came crashing down in the last five minutes of the game. A fight broke out on the ice leading to a broken nose and Cregan headed to the ER.

He insisted you not wait around for him.

“These things take hours,” he told you, voice muffled from the soaked rag pressed against his face, “Seriously, not the first time not the last. Don’t waste your night in the ER.”

So you ended up clinging to Sara instead, effectively cockblocking your best friend to her dismay.

“Where are you going?” you ask Sara, as she heads upstairs.

“I’m just running to Jace’s room, will you chill?” she tells you, “Aegon is nowhere to be found. You’re good.”

“Sara,” you begin, but trail off.

What are you supposed to say? Aegon threatened to fuck you, and you went and poked the bear?

“Relax,” Sara tells you, “I’m going to grab my coat, grab Jace, and then we can go back to the apartment.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Give me five minutes,” she says and disappears upstairs.

Five minutes go by.

Then ten.

Then fifteen.

You text her several times. Nothing.

“This fucking whore,” you mutter, heading up the stairs.

You’re not sure which room is Jace’s. Last time you were in the hockey house you were wasted before you passed out in Aegon’s bed. You try the first door. Locked. You bang on it for a moment, hearing only giggles, none of which sound like Sara. You move down the hall.

An empty room, a bathroom, two girls who throw a shoe at you when you interrupt their rendezvous. And then a silver-haired boy, sat on a small couch next to his bed, violet eyes meeting yours when you open the door.

Aegon.

Shit.

“Hey bunny,” he says casually, closing the book on his lap, and tossing it onto a side table.

He leans back, arms spread over the back of the couch. He’s freshly showered, hair still slick with water, droplets falling onto the white t-shirt he wears. He grins at you, eyes falling to Cregan’s jersey you’re still wearing.

“I’m looking for Sara,” you tell him, going to close the door.

“Funny you should say that,” he says, standing suddenly.

You frown, trying to avoid glancing down, instead focusing on the dark black of his pupils.

“Why?” you ask.

Aegon walks toward you, slowly, like a lion stalking its prey. He makes his way in front of you, reaching behind you and pressing the door shut. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek, feel the warmth from his chest.

“I think she’s preoccupied,” he tells you, grimacing.

“Do you and Jace have telepathically communicate?” you ask, frustrated, “Seriously? Why is he so okay with your scheming?”

“He’s my bro,” Aegon says, feigning offense.

You roll your eyes.

“Where are they?” you ask.

“Don’t interrupt their fuc-”

“I don’t care if he’s balls deep Egg!” you say loudly, “Where are they?”

“Your apartment, jeez,” he says, laughing at the groan you release, “They left out the back.”

“I’m going to kill her,” you tell him.

“Don’t be mad, bunny,” he says, reaching for your hand.

Aegon laces his fingers through yours, watching them for a moment before bringing his eyes back to your face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him, but you don’t pull your hand away.

“Like what?” he asks, swaying slightly.

“Like you’re going to fuck me,” you tell him, “Not happening.”

Aegon sinks his teeth into his lower lip.

“If you didn’t want me to fuck you,” he begins, “Why did you wear that?”

Your face flushes as he motions to the jersey.

“I was very clear,” he tells you, “And you’re a very smart girl.”

You swallow as he brings his hand to the collar of the jersey, rubbing the material between the pads of his fingers.

“You just trying to be a tease, bunny?” Aegon asks, eyes roaming down your figure, “Cause you look fucking amazing. You know how hard I was on the ice?”

Your breathing has turned shallow, coming out in short pants.

“You wanna feel how hard you make me?” he asks softly, bringing your hand to his crotch.

You can feel him, hard and wanting, straining against the jeans he’s wearing. Your lips part slightly as he rocks his hips against your hand.

“You want to go?” Aegon asks, “This is your chance.”

He rocks against you again, pressing himself against your hand. You can already feel the heat pooling between your thighs, the dull ache beginning. You stare at him and swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“I don’t want to go,” you breathe and Aegon smiles.

He looks up at you as he begins to sink to his knees. He places a kiss on your stomach, down the tops of your thighs, on your knees, before parting your legs. He drags down your biker shorts, throwing them to a corner of his room.

“I’m going to tear these off with my fucking teeth,” Aegon murmurs, mouthing the fabric of your fishnets, swirling his tongue along the smooth skin of your inner thighs.

You squirm against his mouth as he presses a kiss to your barely clothed core. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him away from you suddenly. Aegon looks up at you, the picture of perfection, an angel on his knees for you.

“Get up,” you tell him, and he moves to his feet, his hands never leaving your thighs, traveling over the swell of your hips, up your ribs.

You move his hands off of you, pushing a hand against his chest to push him down onto the couch. He sits, head tilted back watching you as you straddle his lap. Aegon wraps his hands around your waist and you remove them once more.

“No,” you tell him, holding his hands above his head.

You know you must be blushing furiously, you’ve never been this domineering in bed before. Aegon looks up at you as you grind yourself against him, feeling him grow harder beneath you. His jaw is slack, violet eyes are blown black with lust, never leaving your face with every roll of your hips.

You tilt your head to the side. Fake it till you make it, that’s what Sara says. Pretend you’re confident.

“Why should you get to touch me?” you taunt, wetting your lips.

Aegon’s eyes widen slightly, surprised by your sudden dominance. He smirks, a small laugh leaving his perfect lips.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it,” Aegon says softly, fire in his violet eyes.

He doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t twist his wrists from your grasp.

“No, I don’t think so,” you tell him, “I don’t share with anyone. Got it?”

“There’s no one else,” Aegon answers immediately, “No one but you.”

You tilt your head to the side, a smirk sliding onto your face.

“You’d lie to my face?” you tease, “I know you’ve been seeing Lydia, Hel told me.”

“I’m not seeing Lydia,” Aegon tells you, “Well, I’m not anymore.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“What about you, hypocrite?” Aegon asks, tilting his chin up at you, “Still walking Cregan like a dog, I see.”

Then he tugs his wrists free, snaking a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you closer so his lips ghost the shell of your ear.

“He fuck you like I do?” he murmurs, pressing a hot kiss below your ear.

Your eyes flutter shut as his free hand moves to grab your ass.

“He make you cum as hard as I do?” he asks, kissing a trail down your neck.

You wet your lips, fingers tangling in his hair pulling him closer.

“Yeah, he does,” you breathe and you can feel Aegon smile against you.

“Fucking dirty little liar,” he says, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss is hungry and desperate; Aegon’s hand holds your neck so you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. When Aegon kisses you, you want him to consume you completely.

He slips you almost completely off his lap, so you’re straddling his thigh. Your eyes widen as he presses you down against him.

“C’mon ride it,” he tells you, “I know you know how.”

You meet his eyes and he grins. He fucking knew. Of course, he did.

You roll your hips against him, just like that first night at the hockey house. His hands cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as you grind against him.

“Just like that, there’s my good girl,” he purrs, dragging a hand up your back.

You whimper as he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough for your air supply to be deliciously depleted. The friction is perfect as his jean-clad thigh presses against your warm center, every roll of your hips sending sparks of pleasure dancing throughout your body.

“You gonna cum? Or do you need an audience like last time?” he teases, referencing the party.

“Fuuuck,” you choke, as Aegon tightens his grip and your curse turns into a high-pitched keen as your orgasm floods through you.

Aegon releases your throat, picking you up and standing, moving to throw you on the bed. He roughly turns you onto your hands and knees. You push onto your forearms as Aegon’s hands move near your center, tearing through the fabric of your fishnets.

“I liked those!” you hiss, feeling him move the lace of your thong out of the way.

You hear him chuckle darkly, hear the zipper of his pants and feel the tip of his fat cock sliding through your slick folds.

“You’ll like this more,” he tells you, “Promise, bunny.”

Then he’s sinking into you and every witty retort you can think of slips from your head. Aegon rocks his hips against yours and your hands clutch the comforter seeking purchase. You grit your teeth, trying to not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

“Oooh, you are mad at me, huh?” Aegon teases, delivering a harsh thrust.

You bite the inside of your cheek, falling from your forearms, cheek pressing against the bed as Aegon continues to pound into you, bringing a hand down to slap your ass. The mark stings and Aegon rubs his hand over it before delivering another blow.

A whimper escapes your lips when he angles his hips just right, the head of his cock bullying into your sweet spot. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he leans forward, focusing on the spot he’s located.

“C’mon tell me how good it feels,” Aegon says, snapping his hips.

He brings his hand to the back of your head, pulling you up by your hair.

“Tell me,” he whispers in your ear.

“Fuck,” you moan, unable to help yourself.

“Touch that pretty little clit, right now,” he demands, and you bring your hand between your legs.

You rub nice slow circles around your aching clit, fingertips brushing against Aegon’s cock each time it slides in and out.

“There’s my good girl,” Aegon croons, “Even when she’s mad she listens so well.”

Gods there’s something about his voice, something about the way he talks you through it, it has your back arching, moans and whines spilling from your lips as you’re thrown over the edge once more, cunt spasming around his cock.

Aegon slows his thrusts as you cum, still painfully erect as he pulls out, tapping the side of your ass. You turn around, laying on your back, panting as you look up at him.

He holds his tongue between his teeth, eyes falling to your chest.

“Take that fucking thing off,” he tells you and you move the jersey over your head.

“And that,” he says motioning to your bra.

That lands on the floor as well, leaving you in your ruined fishnets and thong. Aegon climbs on top of you, dragging his mouth across your breasts, stopping to roll your nipples between his teeth and tug on them harshly.

He continues to worship your body with his mouth before he slides himself back into your warm, tight center. You lock your legs around his waist, raising your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Do I fuck better than him?” Aegon asks, “Tell me.”

You meet his eyes then, and you know your facade has faded. Aegon smiles then, showing all his teeth.

“You haven’t even fucked him, have you?” Aegon asks.

You don’t answer, trying to capture his lips in a kiss. Aegon turns his head from your needy lips.

“You are my good girl,” Aegon tells you, sending fire pooling in your belly.

“Yes,” you whimper, “Yes, I am.”

Aegon kisses you then as a reward, slow and sensual as he thrusts deeply into you. He’s so deep inside you, your denials from earlier spill past your lips.

“You fuck me so well,” you whimper, “No one could fuck me like you.”

You know you might regret the confession, but you can’t find it in you to care at the moment.

“I know baby, love fucking you,” he murmurs against your mouth, “God this pussy, fucking made for me.”

“Fuck yes yes right there-!” you whine as he presses himself into you.

Tears blur your vision as your legs begin to tremble with the promise of your third release.

“Oh god, oh fuck-” you squeak as your third orgasm rips through you, Aegon never slowing his merciless pace all the while.

“So fucking good,” Aegon moans as your pussy clenches, milking his cock until you feel him twitching inside you, the warmth of his release painting your inner walls.

He kisses you slowly and passionately, with his cock still nestled deep inside of you. As he pulls out of your warmth he keeps his arms around you, dragging you to lay across his chest. Your breathing returns to normal, your limbs feeling like jelly as you listen to the steady drumming of his heartbeat.

“You can’t have it both ways, you know,” you tell him, not looking into his eyes.

You expect to feel him tense beneath you, to tell you to stop being jealous. Or dramatic. Or not as easygoing as other situationships. Something Jason would say. Something Jason had said to you.

“You can’t get mad at me for seeing Cregan and then go screw Lydia Tyrell,” you continue, nervously chewing on your lip.

You feel Aegon’s hand on the back of your head, smoothing your hair.

“I know,” he tells you, chest rumbling, “I just wanted to see you sweat a little.”

You lift your face, resting your chin on his chest to look at him. He glances down at you, a sly smile on his face.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re not seeing Lydia?” you ask, heart beating erratically.

Aegon shakes his head and you whack him on the chest.

“Ow!” he says, wincing.

“You’re such a dick!” you tell him and he rolls until he’s on top of you.

He presses his lips to yours and the rude words slip from your mind as his tongue caresses your bottom lip. Aegon presses his body against yours, the weight of him against you bringing a fresh way of arousal to your center.

“I’d like to be seeing you,” he murmurs against your mouth.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he nips your lower lip, eager for him to sheath himself within you once more.

“Helaena is going to kill us,” you tell him, kissing him back nonetheless.

“We don’t have to tell her,” he murmurs between kisses.

You freeze suddenly, pulling your lips from his.

A secret. You’re going to be a secret. That’s almost worse. Shame twists in your gut, and Aegon senses a shift in your mood as you rise, slipping Cregan’s jersey back over your head and your biker shorts back on.

Aegon sits up slightly, cocking his head.

“What?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“Nothing,” you tell him, running a hand through your hair, “I just have to go.”

“Now?” Aegon asks, his voice breaking into a whine, “Y/N, stay with me-”

“No I have to go,” you insist, grabbing your shoes.

Your tights are ruined, hanging on you in tattered pieces but you don’t care. You need to get out, need to leave before the tears blurring your vision spill over.

Aegon’s brow creases, he stands up taking the bedsheet with him, clutching it against his stomach to cover himself.

“Y/N what did I do?” Aegon asks, concern lacing his tone.

You sigh, hand on the door before forcing a smile on your face and turning to him.

“Nothing. You’re just being Aegon,” you tell him, “Forgot who you were for a minute, it’s all good.”

Pain flashes across his features for a moment and a tear escapes your eye. You wipe it away furiously before pulling his bedroom door open.

“I’ll see you around,” you call, not looking back as the dam within you breaks.

You hurry down the stairs and out of the hockey house into the cold night air, hurrying down the quiet streets of your college campus eager to get back to your apartment.

You can’t help but cry, cursing as you pass a group of drunk girls who stop when they see you, insisting you tell them what’s wrong. Finally, you make it home, walking into your dark apartment. You’re greeted by Baela on your couch, who rises as you enter.

“Y/N-” she says, biting her lip.

“Bae? What's wrong?” you ask.

“Helaena called…her dad…” Bae starts, tears falling, “He passed away tonight.”

Your heart nearly stops beating. You dig mindlessly into your purse for your phone, hands shaking.

8 missed calls.

She tried calling you. For the past hour or so. The entire time you were with Aegon. Guilt pours through your limbs and you’re sobbing earnestly now, Baela holding you against her. There’s one more missed call, more recently, just about ten minutes ago.

Aegon.

note: I hope you enjoyed my loves! Again, don't hate me too much for the angst I truly cannot help myself!

Thin Ice Tag List:

@padfooteyes, @nina2697, @julieeba, @darkenchantress, @heavenly1927, @fan-goddess, @possiblyafangirl, @n4tforlife, @serving-targaryen-realness, @bubblyabs, @cicaspair418, @jamespotterismydaddy, @tssf-imagines, @platonichug, @tosiaf, @skikikikiikhhjuuh, @rwdkarla, @partypoison00 @moira-strangle-me-please @clairacassidy, @sh4dowrav3n, @okfashionista, @kravitzwhore, @queenofshinigamis, @misspendragon, @marytargaryen, @dope-trope-105, @imarimon, @whoisalexa, @oneeyedvisenya, @valeskafics, @aemondsmoon, @doublesparrows, @namelesslosers, @fidelias @imarimon @trifoliumviridi

bold means I could not tag for some reason!

drop a comment to be added to this series taglist

599 notes · View notes

silverynight · 4 months ago

Text

Bond

Mina watches with a knowing grin on her face as Bakugo grabs both of Midoriya's legs and puts them right on his lap, the green bean doesn't even flinch, doesn't even stop talking with Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki, because he's very much used to it at this point.

The funny thing is that they're not dating, they're just really good "friends" now or that's what the green cinnamon roll of class A thinks, because Bakugo is making it obvious at this point.

Both friend groups have started to have breakfast and lunch together because Blasty can't physically stay away from Midoriya.

"They're at it again!" Kaminari complains next to her to which Mina responds with a chuckle, it honestly doesn't bother her because it's not that bad... They are not officially dating yet...

Bakugo is listening to Midoriya, but he's stroking the boy's legs at the same time, at some point one of his hands ends up on one of Midoriya's thick thighs and it stays there.

It's fascinating how their relationship changed and how content and less feral and grumpy Bakugo looks now; even if he didn't know, he had been longing for this type of closeness with Midoriya for the most part of his life.

"I'd like to start training with you, Midoriya," Todoroki says then. "You're really good at sparring without using your quirk so I'd like to try that too!"

Immediately, as Mina had predicted, the grip on Midoriya's thigh tightens significantly.

"No," Bakugo growls and all of his friends roll their eyes at the same time.

"Come on, Kacchan!" Midoriya strokes his cheek, Mina has noticed that he does that whenever he wants to calm Blasty down and it works like a charm every single time. "I've been training with you the whole week! It's Todoroki's turn."

"Tch! Fine! But I'll be there too!"

"Of course, Kacchan!"

They sleep in the same room now, everyone knows it, but none of them hasn't said a thing about it. Blasty doesn't even pretend, whenever it's time to sleep (which is nine pm because he's a grampa) he puts Midoriya over his shoulder like the boy it's just a sack of green potatoes and carries him towards his dorm room.

They have a strange bond, but it's cute. Although, Mina has started to worry about Bakugo; if he doesn't tell Midoriya what he feels for him, the green bean could end up with someone else and that would break Blasty's heart.

"I think you should let them figure it out," Kirishima begs her at some point, he looks concerned, but he always does whenever Mina tells him about one of her amazing plans.

"We don't want Bakugo to die alone, right?"

"Of course not, but I think Bakubro can handle–"

"Nonsense! He's been wrapped around our Midoriya 24/7 and the green bean hasn't figured out what's going on. They clearly need help!"

Kirishima and Kaminari try to stop her several times, Sero follows them because he's curious but doesn't say anything against it. Well, Mina understands why the other two are slightly nervous, she hasn't even told them her plan yet, but it's quite simple actually.

They find them in the common room, just spending time together, Midoriya is reading something while Bakugo scrolls down his phone with the bean on his lap.

"Hey, Midoriya!" Mina calls, prompting the boy to smile at her and Bakugo to growl. "Blasty is in love with you!"

"What did you do?" Kaminari complains as Sero starts laughing maybe because the expressions on Bakugo and Midoriya's faces.

Kirishima carries Mina out of the room, rushing outside, afraid of Bakugo's wrath, but he doesn't follow them as Mina thought...

Great, it means they are finally having a proper conversation.

***

The next time they see them it looks like Bakugo wants to eat Midoriya's face and the other isn't complaining at all.

"They're worse now!" Kaminari groans. "This is your fault, Ashido! Take it back!"

"Deal with it!" She chuckles after taking a pic or two. She's actually really proud of it, mostly because Bakugo himself found her talking with the other girls the other day and thanked her in front of them.

"Get a room!" Kaminari says, watching as Bakugo pulls Midoriya even closer while flipping the boy with yellow hair off.

At least Midoriya is polite enough to stop; he ignores the way Bakugo pouts and pushes him away, face completely red.

"I'm sorry!" He apologizes, flustered. "It won't happen again!"

"Let's go to my room then, Izuku..."

"Not now, Kacchan!" He says, blushing even more. And that's when Mina and the others notice he's actually covered in love bites.

Those two are going to be insufferable as a couple, but Mina doesn't regret it.

***

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

137 notes · View notes

angelanderson · 1 year ago

Note

I really want an Ellabs x reader fic of fem reader really needing comfort bc she's sad/overwhelmed but she tries to hide it from ellabs but obv they notice smth is off, so they tell her they noticed smth is wrong and she kinda breaks down at that, then they comfort her thru it, listening to her problems or insecurities n'stuff <33 Sorry if it's confusing and/or too long, u dont gotta do it but i'd appreciate it tons <33 (Im totally not self projecting)

ur projecting = supported. 🫢 100% sfw/comfort fic but still no men or minors. type of relationship between them is up to u! this ended up a semi- full length fic oops ? enjoy!

sometimes it just feels too hard. being the newest member in jackson means you feel like you have to prove your worth 24/7. and it’s exhausting, really. abby is just so strong, ellie has the best patrol work, and you? you feel… weak. you (falsely) feel like nothing you’ve done has proven you’re worth the space in jackson.

so when monday rolls around, you tell ellie and abby you have plans with someone else so you can just go home and hide. they don’t question that, why would they? tuesday you tell them you wanna go to bed early. okay, fine. but then it’s wednesday, and they’re starting to get that something is going on with you.

the worry starts to kick in wednesday night after maria tells the two women you asked to go home early, citing that you’re not feeling well. abby all but drags ellie to your tiny place immediately after hearing maria’s words. you always tell each other everything. so why didn’t you now?!

it’s easy to know abby and ellie are knocking at your door simply because of the sheer force of it. five minutes you try to pretend you’re not home. you don’t want them to see you in this state; you’ve been ugly crying for two hours now. however, they don’t give up. it’s not like you could expect anything else from them.

“baby, we know you’re home. let us in, yeah? we’re worried about you,” abby shouts out after another two minutes of knocking.

you respond back with a sickly voice from the sofa, “no, go away. ‘m busy.”

you can just feel the attitude enter ellie’s body now. you know how stubborn she can be. “no, we know you’re lying. i will find a way in if you don’t let us in within the next thirty seconds.”

you know she isn’t joking as you move to open the door. the sight of you upon opening the door is not a pretty one— your face is red, covered in tears. ellie takes a deep breath before she pushes in. she won’t let you shut them out anymore. abby shuts the door before them before heading you back onto the sofa with them. each other is on either side of you within the matter of seconds.

as per usual, abby is the first one to break the silence. “oh, honey, what’s going on? we could’ve helped you sooner if we knew.” the way she sounds sad just makes you feel worse.

insecurities once again bubbling over, you do the only thing you can think of: you try to shove abby away. being significantly stronger than you means it didn’t feel like a single thing. however, abby won’t put up with you lashing out right now. she knows you can be their sweet girl even in the toughest of moments.

ellie watches like a hawk as abby grabs both of your wrists to stop you from trying to push her away again. “just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you can act out. are you going to be the big girl i know you are now? or do i need to keep you here?”

the concerned sternness of her voice makes you whimper in reply. fresh tears leak down your face as you try to find the words to explain. “i- i just don’t think i deserve to be here! everyone, especially you two, carry your weight around here! and what do i do? i’m just a stupid girl working in the bar!”

and, well, neither of them could say they were expecting that response. sure, you were newer to Jackson, but so was everyone at one point. you were also one of the most popular Jackson residents— everyone loves the energy you bring to the bar after a long day of work. so it just makes sense that both women are beyond shocked to realize that this is why you’re so down. how could you not know how loved you are here?

as yet another round of tears starts to fall, you feel abby’s big arms quickly pull you into her chest. your body starts to shake with each inhale as you start to sob into abby’s chest. while ellie rushes to rub your back, abby starts to tilt your head up so you can see her.

“angel, angel, no. let’s take some deep breathes and then we’ll all have a talk, okay?”, abby coos as she wipes away the falling tears.

ellie puts your right hand over abby’s heart when your breathing doesn’t start to slow any. she speaks in the softest voice she can muster up,“deep breaths with me and abby, baby. feel abby’s heart beat. we’re all going to just relax together before anything else.”

two minutes between your favorite people is all it takes to reduce you to just sniffles. you slouch back into your seat once you’ve finally caught your breath. you look up at abby and ellie with wet eyes before letting out a long sigh. no one is sure who should speak first.

ellie decides she’ll be the one to start, “it’s not true, you know? everyone here loves you. helping run the bar is important. you create a space where we can all relax for once. emphasis on the relax part.”

abby grunts in agreement with ellie. “you know ellie’s right, don’t you baby,” abby questions before looking over to ellie, “our favorite girl’s always making everyone feel happy, isn’t she?”

“for real though, you really do play a big part here. you know ellie and i started arguing less when you came around? pretty big deal there, you know. even joel commented on it,” the dirty blonde continues on the conversation.

and that makes you giggle for the first time all day. “even joel? really?” while you knew they had a previous history of more frequent fights, you didn’t know even joel was over it back then too.

“yeah, it’s really true,” abby starts before taking a breath to think about her next words. she exhales, “strength isn’t everything, you know? you add just as much as we do here. creating a space where people can relax while we live on this hell on earth is just as important as what we do. we all do the best here because we are better with each other. our system can’t function without others.”

you’re sure you’d be crying tears of happiness right now if you weren’t so exhausted from all your previous crying. your previous anxieties start to slip away as you start to truly internalize both of their words from today. you are important. you matter here. just like everyone else.

no one is given a chance to speak before you’re pulling ellie and yourself on top of abby. “i love you, i love you, i love you both,” you whisper out. “you’re right. i promise i’ll come talk to you next time i’m feeling down, okay? know you’ll make me say that part next!”

“okay smarty pants, you better. also, we always are, darling. love you the most,” teases ellie before she presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“hey! what if i love you both the most? then what?” you’re sure you can feel ellie roll her eyes as abby whines out playfully.

“okay, okay. how about we all love each other the most? can we just agree so i can drink some water now? my head is killing me.” a major post-crying headache has just started to come on for you.

ellie rolls her eyes playful at both of you. “i’ll get us all some water”, she commands as she walks to your kitchen, “and get comfy with abby. we’ll watch a movie, and yes, you can choose today.”

yay! end note to say ur important and i’m glad ur here + love that we all each add our own special things to this earth 🫂

#ellabs x reader #ellabs #ellie willams x reader #abby anderson x reader #ellie x reader x abby #ellie williams drabble #abby anderson drabble #abby drabbles #ellie drabbles #tlou fluff #abby anderson fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x you #ellie williams x you

453 notes · View notes

riverlikethelake · 2 years ago

Text

Tìfyawìntxu

Summary: Your training starts, and you can't quite figure out Neteyam. Tension is thick, you know next to nothing about anything but the research done about Pandora, and you wish you could hear his thoughts, know what he thinks about you.

Pairing: Neteyam x Avatar!reader

Word count: 8.5k

Warnings/notes: mentions of death, depression, angst, fluff, development of platonic/familial relationships, Spider tries, Protective!Norm, foster family in the lab, the pacing isn't really what i wanted but we're getting there, slowburn, slight enemies to lovers, Neteyam and reader are in denial

series master list | Would stardust fix us? Part two

Newtons third law: Action & Reaction

His third law states that for every action (force) in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction. If object A exerts a force on object B, object B also exerts an equal and opposite force on object A. In other words, forces result from interactions.

You learned about Newton’s laws 4 years ago when Grace mentioned them in one of her logs, she was explaining her an another scientists research on the Ikrans, their anatomy vastly different from anything alive on earth and they wanted to compare them to Pterosaurs. Flying fascinated you after that, fully diving into any books you could find on physics and birds.

Like how you wanted to learn about everything on Pandora, compensating for never being able to see it, you wanted to know everything about flying, maybe if you knew enough you could imagine what its like.

“And she just let you in like that?” Norm questions, from across the table, pulling a chunk of bread off his piece with his teeth. You nod, widening your eyes and smiling, just as surprised as your foster father.

The two scientists look between each other, a moment passes and Norm shrugs “I mean Jake got in for about the same while the relations were significantly worse, it’s not unimaginable” He nods to Max who has a tentative look on his face.

He purses his lips and shakes his head to himself “Y/n I’m not sure how i feel about this” He speaks hesitantly “I mean i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in the link pod for extended periods of time, all day every day” You frown at his words, your shoulders slumping, demeanor visibly changing.

“Max..” Norm says in a low whisper, moving his hand to shield his mouth from you, as if what they’re saying isn’t to be heard. Max looks at him, he tilts his head carefully. After a moment, Max purses his lips and turns to you, “We can continue this conversation later, tell us about what you saw” a guarded smile forming on his lips.

You don’t like how he changed the subject, feeling as if they’re hiding something from you, but you take a deep breathe and start recalling the forest, every image of it engraved in your mind

The decompression door goes off and all your heads turn, Spider walks through, pulling off his oxygen mask and tilting his head to the side to stretch his neck.

“You’re late” Norm speaks through a full mouth.

“Aren’t I always?” Spider asks, a smirk on his face. “Jake and Neytiri wanted to talk to me about Y/n, they wanted to talk to her but you were disconnected by then” he explains motioning his hand towards you as he walks over.

You frown “They told me i could go to sleep?” You state confused. He shrugs and plops down next to you, grabbing a piece of bread from your plate and taking a bite.

“Yeah but I guess they forgot that you can’t really be ‘woken up’” He mumbles through the bread in his mouth “It was funny seeing Jake get all fumbled about forgetting” he laughs, pointing at Norm who cracks a smile.

“The mighty Olo’eyktan, you’d think with how attached he is to guns he’d still have some human left in him.” You roll your eyes as they take turns making jabs at the ex-marine. You make eye contact with Max who shares your expression, a smile cracks on both your lips as you roll your eyes and he shakes his head.

You lean over and nudge Spider’s shoulder “Y’know Spider, this means you don’t have to try and remember every detail of your day.” You grin. His smile falters for just a moment, a look passes through his eyes but it blinks away before you can recognize it. “And you can take me to all your favorite places”

He leans back in his chair, keeping his eyes on you before he grins. “That’s as long as Neteyam doesn’t take up all your time” your eyes widen, you purse your lips nervously and glance away. You hadn’t thought about the training yet, Neteyam had yet to leave your mind but you honestly don’t know what to expect with the upcoming training.

You shake your head and open your mouth to deny the accusation but he interrupts you, “Or maybe you’ll get all spiffy and serious like him” his smirk has doubled in size now. At this, you roll your eyes and throw your plastic fork at him.

“I will not, I doubt he’s gonna even pay much attention to me” You lean back in your chair and grab your stolen bread out of your brothers hand. You hadn’t realized Norm had gotten up until hes reaching over and placing a food tray in front of Spider and taking his place in the chair across from you.

Spider leans forward and immediately starts stuffing the food into his mouth, earning a “manners, please” from Max.

“Knowing Neteyam, he might not pay much attention to you but he’ll take his job seriously” Norm states, leaning onto the table. “And he won’t go easy on you” Your eyes dart to Max to confirm his statement, he nods and you throw your head back and groan.

Spider chuckles and pokes at your head making it loll to the side. “Don’t worry Bug, me and Kiri will be on your side” He comforts, pinching at your ear. You move your head to be facing him, you raise a brow and his smirk returns “Lo’ak might try and make things harder” you roll your eyes.

“Of course, what are friends for” You mutter, reaching your hand over to flick his forehead

Norm strides into your room, flipping on your light and pulling off your covers. You groan, flipping over to your side and curling in on yourself. “Rise and shine bug!” he bends down and ruffles your hair “village life starts early so if you don't wanna be late you should get up” you groan and swat your hand at him before rolling back onto your back.

“Maybe a more careful approach next time?” You murmur, squinting your eyes to help them adjust to the light. He laughs and places his hand on your back as you start to pull yourself up, he slides his arm under the bend on your knees and picks you up.

You slip your arms around his neck, your head lolling into his chest. “I can walk” you mumble out, your eyes squint close as he exits your room, subjecting your sensitive vision to an even harsher and brighter light. His chest rumbles, considering your comment before carefully placing you down, keeping his arm your yours for support.

Thankfully, the movement didn’t rush to your head and you remained composed. The walk to the moin area wasn’t far, your eyes still blinking in annoyance when you reach the table. Norm pulls out a chair for you and immediately your scooting closer to the table and resting your head into your arms. A chair scratches the floor next to your and a hand is shaking your upper arm.

“And the princess has risen!” Spider teases, sitting down in his chair and scooting closer to you. You raise your head and realize he had placed your breakfast tray down in front of you. You shoot him an annoyed look for his comment, aware at how you were always the last to wake up.

Despite always waking up late, you barely slept, staying up late at night stuck in your own thoughts, it was going to be a hard adjustment to wake up earlier.

You reach over and pick a grape and pop it into your mouth, chewing sluggishly as your eyes slowly blink open.

“Hurry up, usually i’m out the door by now but I thought id wait for you” The statement pulls a smile at your lips, you straighten up and pull your arms above your head to stretch. Spider’s not the most patient or thoughtful person you know, but you’ve grown to appreciate little moments like these, softness peaking out of the nonchalant exterior he puts up.

The difference you feel when you open your eyes is immediate, maybe it’s the fact that your avatar isn’t sick like your human body is, but there’s something else. The smell of the forest, the rustle of the village and jungle outside of your tent, the air is fresh, moist and sticking to your skin compared to the sterile air of the lab.

It still dark, just a hint of light streaming in through the cracks and makeshift windows of your tent. You pull yourself up from the hammock and take a moment to look around your tent, having been too giddy to really take it in last night. It’s empty, save for a table and some bowls, and of course your hammock and a few spare furs Kiri brought you. It’s not quite homey, a guest room at best, but your room back at the lab isn't much better. The blinding white walls and medical equipment just inches away from your bed always made it feel more like a hospital than a home, so this tent is already a step up.

You run your hand along the walls, feeling the material beneath your fingers, squinting to see the intricate weaving and texture. You want to decipher what it was made out of, what plant, what the technique was, why that plant, when did they find out that plant and that technique worked best. You furrow your brows, you can’t place what it was made out of, it reminds you of the cloth of Jake's battle band but thicker.

You run your eyes across the rest of the tent, looking for a clue when the blanket covering the entrance flaps open. Your freeze, your head snapping towards the entrance, making eye contact with Neteyam. He’s just barely visible, peaking in, holding the blanket aside with his forearm. For a moment he examines you, looking you up and down before glancing around your hammock. You’re frozen in place, hands sweating under his gaze unsure of what to say.

His eyes come back to you and it feels like there’s a dumbbell in your chest. “You are up.” he notes, his voice carrying through the silence of your hammock. You glance down at your hands, wringing your fingers together.

“Norm told me it would be a good idea” You didn’t mean for your voice to come out in a whisper, you’re worried he didn’t even hear you but he nods.

A moment passes before he speaks “You should join us for breakfast” a brief smile presses against his lips before it's covered by the flap, you stare at the spot he stood for a moment before taking a deep breath.

You’re met with the village, alive and waking up, preparing for the works of the day. You’re only a few feet behind Neteyam, meeting his eyes when he briefly glances back at you. You follow behind him anxiously, resisting the urge to look around, wanting to seem as small as possible when you feel the stares follow you.

You speed up your pace, catching up to Neteyam, hoping his presence will shield you from the intensity and distaste that seemed to stab into your skin.

In contrast, Neteyam seems to embody power, with others nodding in his direction when he passes by. despite the feeling on eyes on you, you're almost completely ignored when in Neteyam's presence. Warriors and hunters looking to him with respect and idolization, domestics and gatherers watching him with fondness and curiosity, unmated women unable to keep their eyes off of him.

You wonder what a spectacle you two must be, the chief's son who stays humble under the bows of respect from others, and the outsider stuck by his side, suffocating under the intense air around him.

Neteyam notices your unease but does little to acknowledge you, he’s still unsure of you. You’re harmless, raised by scientists loyal to his people, close friends with his siblings, and the sister of an extension of his family, rationally he shouldn’t have any hesitation in your presence.

But rationality is quick to become scarce, he’s learned. Yesterday he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, analytical of the unknown sky person Eywa brought him to. Today; he can’t bring himself to look at you, unappreciative of the way his body and mind freezes at the mere thought of you.

The only other time he’s felt this was when he came face to face with a pack of nantang, unable to draw his bow or knife, only able to dodge the beast that lunged for him when he heard his sister scream for him.

His uncertainty isn’t absurd, you’re not a danger but he doesn't know you. He’s never actually met someone new, everyone in his life is someone he’s known, even the Na’vi he doesn't know have been present long enough to never raise a second thought in Neteyam’s mind.

You’re a complete mystery to him, you’ve lived not even that far away for 17 years, he’s known your brother for as long as he can remember, and his siblings have apparently been visiting you since before they knew how to hunt. Yet somehow, your mere existence has seemed to go unheard of by him.

He watches as you sit down next to him nervously, a close but comfortable distance, and starts fiddling with your fingers. You look severely out of place, still wearing your human clothes and keeping your head down, but you seem invisible almost. Like he could look away for a moment and you’d blend in with the background instantly, like if he reached out and touched you, you’d dissipate into the air.

He considers testing the theory, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Kiri lunged at you from behind, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling your back to her chest, nuzzling her cheek against yours.

You yelp before being thrown into a fit of giggles. “Kiri, do not scare me like that!” You place your hands on her forearms that rest against your collar bones. She pulls you back further, positioning herself on her knees so she can rest her chin atop your head.

“Y/n, you are are up early.” She teases, rolling the ends of your loose hair between her fingers. You tilt your head back in an attempt to get a better look at her when you see Lo’ak pop up from behind her, leaning over his sister to poke his finger at your cheek.

“Yeah aren't you usually like, just going to sleep by now?” He places his hands on Kiri’s shoulders for stability as he leans over you both to place his face in front of yours, his braids hanging down. You stick your tongue out and push at the side of his head, you thought that since you technically complied with what he wanted by leaving the lab, he’d give up his pestering habits he developed over the years.

Whenever he felt like you were paying too much attention to the computer or something else he blamed for your disinterest in leaving the lab, he’d do anything he could to get in the way of it.

“I’m not up by choice” you state, keeping eye contact with the na’vi as he repositions to be sitting next to you. “I’m just as surprised as you are” a grin spreads across your face in sync with the boy next to you, you hear Kiri sigh before she pinches your cheek.

Neteyam watches your interaction with his siblings, he wouldn’t be surprised if he has whiplash from how quickly your entire demeanor changed, how differently you act with people who aren’t him. Just seconds ago you looked like you were ready to lie down and melt into the ground, now you were much more relaxed, the quiver in your lips replaced with a loud grin.

He didn’t know that you being up at this time was apparently unusual, he half expected it when he came to check up on you. You didn’t tell him that was an ordinary occurrence, but you sure didn’t tell him it wasn’t one. The information you offered his siblings doesn’t contrast what you told him, in fact you didn’t tell him much, not that he asked for much, but it’s vastly different, much more personal.

His point is driven home when Tuk comes bounding through the crowd and throws herself into your arms. “Y/n! Y/n! So it’s true!!” The young girl cries, she wraps her arm around your neck and plops herself down onto your thigh. Her eyes beam up to you, a massive smile stretching across her face as she stares at you in awe.

A soft giggle escapes your lips as you wrap your arms around her and pull her closer, her back against your chest. You smile, repeating her name in a fondness their mother often does. Tuk nuzzles herself into your hold, grabbing your hand and holding it in front of her face to marvel at.

Tuk sputters out as many comments as she can while you and Kiri giggle at her excitement, Lo’ak rolls his eyes and falls back from his heels to sit flat on his butt.

“Are you coming with us today?” Tuk’s question makes both you and Neteyam pause, making brief eye contact before she babbles on about what she has planned. “I wanna collect fruit! I reeaaallly think you’d like Yovo, it’s so sweet and-”

Neteyam reaches over and places a hand on her head, she turns her attention to her brother, her excitement not faltering. He offers her a soft smile before speaking “I’m sorry Tuk-tuk, but it’s my job to teach Y/n” He watches as her head tilts, Kiri and Lo’ak’s attention on him now too. “That means I have her today.”

A stiff pout reaches Tuk’s lips, she glances up to you for some kind of consolation but you simply offer her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Tuk, but I promise I'll still spend time with you” You brush a braid that fell in her face behind her ear “and once I’m done with my training then we’ll have more time together than ever!” She tilts her head, considering it for a moment, she glances between you and Neteyam before burying her head into your chest.

“You promise?!”

“I promise”

You’re so sweet with his sister, the softest and fondest smile on your lips.

He can’t explain the unpleasantness he feels.

Neteyam doesn’t look back as he strides through the forest, he knows you’re behind him, your raucous stumbling letting him know you’re just a few feet behind him.

You, on the other hand, struggle to keep up with him. His long strides and adept knowledge of the forest give him an advantage you can’t dream of attaining. You try to keep your eyes on him, not wanting to lose him in the forest, but you keep having to look to the ground to watch where you’re stepping.

You doubt Neteyam would let you get lost, you don’t know how long he had followed you, but you know that you weren’t alone for the majority of your time in the forest yesterday. You still try to keep up, jumping over logs and narrowly dodging trees and other sudden obstacles.

A branch jutting out from a nearby bush snags at your shirt, feeling the pull, you immediately turn around to undo the catch, but your foot catches on a surfaced root as you step back. A yelp leaves your lips before you even begin to fall, you throw your arms out to try and find stability in something but it’s useless.

You pull your arms up to protect your head when a pair of hands find purchase under your armpits. Neteyam pulls you up and towards himself, peeking his head over to see the source of your fall as you straighten yourself out.

“Must I carry you?” A smile perks at the corners of your lips but you quickly smush it away. You shake your head and turn to face him, his head tilts forward as he examines you. “You are like a baby, learning to walk” he speaks lamely.

You smile shyly “I have a hard enough time walking in my human body, this will definitely be a learning curve” you try to joke but it falls flat as he scrunches his brows and tilts his head in confusion. He stares at you like he’s trying to speak to you through his eyes, like he’s saying a million things and you’re just not getting it.

After a moment he shakes his head and turns around, continuing his path through the forest. His pace is slower, you notice when you struggle less to follow him. You tread the forest for a few more minutes, you try to keep your focus on Neteyam, knowing that this wouldn’t just be a leisurely walk, but you can’t help the way the forest captivates you.

The weight in your stomach grows with every step, every new specimen you get a glance of, you can’t explain what the feeling is, but you don’t want it to go away.

You snap your attention to Neteyam when he stops abruptly, he looks up to the trees and glances at the surrounding flora.

“What is around us?” He asks, his question catching you off guard. Vague yet intense questioning must run in the family…

You glance around, taking in the forest and vines, plants and creatures growing and living around you. “The forest” You’re technically not wrong, but you know there’s more to it than that so you scramble to say more before he comes to resent your shelteredness more than he probably already does. “Life, plants and animals”

Again, you’re not wrong, but the look he gives you tells you that you’re off the mark. He keeps his gaze on you, looking at you from over his shoulder before turning his attention to a short bush-like plant on the ground. He bends down and plucks two large seeds from the center bulb of the blue plant.

Lionberries, or Cynaroidia decumbens, it’s one of the lesser researched plants, but still well known. He stands up and hands you the seed, carefully you take it and cup it in your hand.

You study it for a moment before looking up to him. “This is the umm.. Kllpxiwll?” You speak slowly, wanting to get the pronunciation right, he tilts his head and nods, a small smile on his lips.

“Kllp-xi-wll” He repeats, sharpening his pronunciation in the beginning “You know of it?” he steps closer and takes a bite out of the second seed. Nervously you glance from the seed to him and nod.

You fiddle with the seed in your hand, feeling the texture and density of it for yourself. “I’ve studied the logs Grace made about the forest” Your eyes dart around the trees, landing on different vines and plants, names popping in and out of your head “um uh this is good for protein right?”

He nods carefully, he takes another bite out of the seed and motions towards yours. Nervously you take a bite, it’s an earthy flavor, a little bitter but its mellow enough to be enjoyable, like the piece of dark chocolate Norm found and gave to you years ago.

He steps back towards the plant and plucks one of the leaves, he rubs his fingers across it several times before running his fingers along the tree next to you, a faint blue mark left behind.

“Around us, is our way of life” He speaks in a mellow voice, keeping his eyes on the shapes he lazily draws with the pigment “When ground up, these leaves create a much more vibrant paste that we use for painting”

He turns to you and holds out his hands, one with the half eaten seed and the other covered in the pigment from the leaf. “Everything here is apart of the way of life we have created, a plant is created from the energy of Eywa” He gestures to the green surrounding you “Animals feed on the plant, using the energy for themselves, we then hunt those animals and use that energy”

He steps forward and swipes his thumb down the center of your forehead, leaving a faint blue mark that blends in with the color of your skin “And once we die, we return the energy back to Eywa” His eyes meet yous “and a plant is born”

Slowly you nod your head, it’s basic science, you learned about life cycles when you were 8, when you were first really getting into the scientific part of everything. It’s an easy thing to understand but somehow this feels deeper, it’s more than just the basic life cycle lesson.

Everything you’ve learned up till now has been through the eyes of a human born on earth, someone who grew up with the way of life that almost destroyed the beautiful planet you stand on now.

You wonder if earth was once this beautiful.

The way humans perceive things is inherently different from the Na’vi, from what you’ve heard, life on earth was kill or be killed, take for yourself and don’t look back. An unimaginable way of life for those on Pandora. So everything you have learned isn’t wrong, scientific wise it might be more than the Na’vi themselves may know, but something tells you that it’s not right either. Perhaps it’s the perspective you’ve learned it through, it’s the same information, but completely different meanings.

You knew that things would be different outside of the lab, being an avatar, but the revelation makes your mind feel paralyzed. It’s barely been a day since you found out you had an avatar at all and you can already feel the humanity of your existence being challenged.

Neteyam saw the change happen, the way your eyes widened and you weren’t just listening to him, but you were hearing him. A smirk passes over his lips as he turns and starts walking away, knowing you’ll follow behind him.

You're exhausted to say the least. Your legs ache from the almost constant walking, the bottoms of your feet sting from the scrapes and pricks from the unforgiving forest floor, your stomach turns and you wonder if you ate too much or too little before you eagerly followed the Olo’eyktan’s son on this journey.

You had been walking for hours, Neteyam wanting to waste as little time as possible. Your head hurt from the constant quizzing he started after you revealed your years of knowledge on the research of Pandora.

You thought you had been making progress with him, his stone demeanor faltering, until your exhaustion got the better of you.

He’d point at a plant or passing animal and you’d have to name it and everything you knew about it. The increasing venom in his stares when you pronounced something wrong only worsened your anxiety, resulting in a less than satisfactory performance.

You pronounced it wrong, you were thinking of a different thing, you didn’t know enough about it, you were just flat out wrong. You just wanted the ground to swallow you whole, you know that you don’t know everything but you’ve studied Pandora your whole life, you know a lot and he’s definitely being to nit picky. It’s your first day being outside of the lab for christ sake! You try to be patient, not let his words affect you, but his snappy comments and rather mean words make you wonder why he even agreed to this in the first place.

“Skxawng, wrong again.” he scoffs, skillfully climbing over a large fallen branch and continuing on, not even waiting for you. The branch is arched and high up, propped up against another tree enough to see through the bramble and vines hanging below it. The tangled vines are too thick to go through, the brush to your sides the same, leaving you with only the option to go over.

You bite your lip and reach your arms up to try to climb the fallen branch but you can’t find a good grip, it’s suspended in the air enough for you to have to almost rely entirely on upper body strength. You grip your fingers into subtle grooves but your fingernails start to sting, so you pull them away. You step back, considering going around it when you notice Neteyam had stopped, you can see his still figure though the vines in front of you.

He stands watching you, narrowing his eyes and observing you. If you went around, you feel it would be failing whatever test you think he’s putting you through. He can’t not teach you, if anything he should understand your hesitation and inability to travel like he does, it would just show him what he needs to help you with more.

But you want to impress him, show him that you’re not just some human that wants to learn for fun, prove yourself worthy of his teaching.

So you take several steps back, eyes scanning the scene when you spot a thick vine hanging from the tree the branch is propped against. Quickly you stride over and pull at it, testing its stability. When it does give, you smile and back up a few steps. You wrap the vine around your hand and pull yourself up, throwing your other hand up and gripping the vine and pulling yourself up till you're at height with the branch. You brace your feet against the free, stabilizing yourself on one before throwing the other over the thick branch.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you once you’ve let go of the vine and you look down. You actually did it. You bite your lip in excitement and swing your other leg over before jumping off and landing on the ground with a thud.

You’re a little disoriented, admittedly, having never jumped from such a height, but you’re on your feet and have no sprained or broken limbs. You whip your head up to meet Neteyams, an excited smile on your lips, full teeth.

He looks you up and down before nodding and turning around. “You are a fast learner, but here…” He looks at you from over his shoulder, gesturing around you “There is no room to hesitate or make a mistake.”

Without a second thought, he continues walking through the forest. You realize what an advantage being blue is, the farther you go into the forest, the more you really have to pay attention as to not lose him. You wonder how he was able to stalk you so well yesterday without even being close or in sight.

You walk for about another half hour, reciting the names and purposes for plants and different animals you pass by, often repeating the ones that show up more than once. You struggle to climb the trees when he insists on it, you’re slow but you manage to make it a fair way up. You can see one of the branches, eagerly, you reach over to pull yourself up to it when you loose your grip.

You scream embarrassingly loud as you fall, grabbing tightly onto the branch or vine you can get a hold of. You still for a moment, still suspended in air, you’re about to take a breath of relief when it snaps and you’re falling again.

The Na’vi are cat-like, you wonder if your avatar wasn’t combines with human DNA if you’d land on your feet, if that happens to the Na’vi in the first place.

Your survival instincts aren’t… good. Anyone raised in the forest would surely do better than closing their eyes and freezing as soon as they feel any type of fear or pain, if you don’t die from the fall then you’re going to die from embarrassment and humiliation.

You can only wonder what Neteyam must be thinking when you feel yourself stop, the ground isn’t as painful as you thought it would be. In fact you don’t even feel the ground, you’re still half suspended in the air.

Slowly you open your eyes to a worried Neteyam, his eyes are scanning your body for any sign of injury before they meet yours. You grimace, about to apologize for your oafishness when he kneels down and carefully sets you down.

You’re on your knees and he’s grabbing your arms, inspecting them with a frown on his face. You silently let him, still frazzled by the experience and not wanting to bother him. His hands ghost across your skin when they land on your shirt, torn at the bottom and along the side up your your armpit.

It doesn’t sting, so you assume the rip is the worst of the damage. After a moment he pulls back and glances over you one more time before meeting your eyes. “Are you ok?” The question snaps you out a state you didn’t realize you were in.

His face is serious, all you can do is nod. A beat passes and he nods and sits back, he stares at you for a moment. “You climbed well…” The statement is awkward, maybe because you’re still in shock but you take a moment before responding.

“I fell” your voice is quiet, you have to clear your throat after it comes out raspy and crackly.

“You made it far” He keeps his gaze on you, intense as always “I am surprised you didn’t fall sooner” You glance up and see a smirk sneaking onto his lips. A quiet chuckle escapes your lips, you wrap your arms around yourself and shift so your legs are folded and you’re no longer on your knees.

“I’m surprised I’m still alive” You joke, rolling your eyes and looking back up to the spot you fell from. Neteyam furrows his brows before leaning forward and pushing at your shoulder.

“You wouldn’t have died” he states, you raise your brow questioningly and he looks up to the tree before pursing his lips “You would have just… hurt a lot” He adds, a wry smile forming on his face.

You roll your eyes again before laughing “I don’t think Norm and Max would ever let me leave my room again” You lean back further and hit the tree, letting all your weight rest against it. “Injuring my avatar in less than 24 hours? I definitely would have thought i’m cursed”

He tilts his head, confused again by your statement, but chooses to drop it. “I think my dad would skin me if i came back and the daughter of his closest friends was injured”

You let out a laugh “Considering how you’ve been able to save me from myself several times, it wouldn’t be your fault at all” You point out, you loom down and start drawing random shapes in the dirt. “Plus i doubt he would care much, maybe he’d be upset but no way you’d take the fall for it.”

He shakes his head “He would definitely care, plus you’re my responsibility” He lazily points to you “You’re like a baby” you roll your eyes “It’s my job to teach you, if you get hurt it’s because i failed to teach you.”

Theres a beat of silence before you frown “That’s stupid” you mumble, keeping your focus on the array of lines and crudely drawn shapes in the same spot of dirt “I’m not helpless” you state. You glance up for a moment only to be met with a raised brow. “I’m not! I mean I’m here because the Tsahik saw some kind of worth in me”

You feel that churning in your stomach you always get before you retreat back to your room, curling up on your bed and pulling up a research log or movie to occupy yourself with. This is the longest you’ve been around someone who wasn’t one of your dads in… years.

Spider, Kiri, and Lo’ak would come around a lot, but it wasn’t for long and when it was, all the attention was on an argument Kiri and Lo’ak were having or Spider, never you. You don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know anything about actually being in the forest or talking to people. Lo’ak and Spider did most of the talking, it was easy to listen and occasionally egg them on.

Neteyam, he didn’t speak. Silence around him was deafening, it wasn’t the kind of silence you could have with Kiri or your dads, it suffocated you, so you talked. You talked to fill the space but you don't know how to talk! You’ve made it this far but the lump forming in your throat makes you think you’re going to throw up before you can carry on the conversation.

He stares at you for a moment “Why else would I be teaching you?” The statement strikes you.

You stare blankly at the ground beneath you, trying to decipher his words, trying to decipher how you feel about them.

Before you can decide, he stands up and nods for you to do the same.

“Lead us home”

A moment passes

“... huh?”

He gestures to the direction you came from “Lead us home, we are not that far out.” Slowly you tilt your head, staring out into the deep forest before looking back to him.

“You’re serious?” It comes out quieter than you mean, nervous. He nods.

“I am here, we will not get lost” He steps out of the way and reaches for your upper arms, nudging you closer “I trust you were paying attention?”

You nod, you were definitely paying attention, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of what’s around you, but you’re nowhere near confident enough to lead yourself back home. Going alone far into the woods yesterday was simply a one-off situation, excitement completely taking over your sense of logic.

Another beat passes and you don't make any move to start leading you both home. You look down to the floor, much more interested in the flowing grass than the multiple different looks Neteyam could be giving you. Nervously you wring your hands and bite your lip.

Neteyam watches you for a moment before sighing. You were making so much progress, the park he saw in you yesterday came out, only for a moment before retreating back, and he was faced with the nervous girl that seemingly only came out when he did something.

Maybe he was pushing you too far, but he wanted to get this over with. He doesn’t know what to think of you and he doesn’t want to. You’re a human, a dreamwalker that just so happened to be interested enough in Pandora to catch Eywa and his grandmother's eye.

His father was once in your place but that was different, not only was he Toruk Makto, but he made a choice to join the Na’vi and stay on Pandora. He had an entire life back on earth, everything he ever knew, and he gave it up to protect and learn from the people. You don’t have much of a choice, yeah you could choose to stay in the lab, reject his grandmother’s offer to learn, but why would you? There’s nothing else for you. He doesn’t doubt Eywa’s judgment, but he wonders if it would be the same if the choices weren’t so… definite.

“Fine, but tomorrow you will learn.”

You’re exhausted when you get back to the village, you pull up enough energy to entertain Tuk, listen to her story about her day. Your voice is quiet but smooth when you respond, she nuzzles closer to you everytime you speak, seemingly making her sleepy.

Kiri and Lo’ak sit around you asking about your training, you honestly don’t want to talk about it but you don’t want to give them the wrong idea, so you give them vague and brief answers. It doesn’t take them long to pick up the vibe and change the subject, at least it doesn’t take Kiri long, Lo’ak needed more of a harsh nudge to his side from his sister when he asked a probing question to get the memo.

As soon as you eat, you go back to your hammock tent to sleep, waking up in the pod almost immediately.

The headache you get is splitting, a hissed groan escaping your dry throat. Norm is at your side with a glass of water “Hey kid, you came out at just the right time, dinner is about ready” He places a hand on the back of your head as you take the glass and gulp down the water as fast as you can.

He helps you over to the table where Max sits across from you and slides a screen over. You look over it but only look back up at him confused.

“I thought we could open the Avatar program back up, a little un-officially but you’re the youngest Avatar driver in action, and the only one trained by the Omaticaya, after Jake.” He explains, pulling the screen back and replacing it with a food tray. Carefully you scoop a piece of food into your mouth.

“You’ve watched enough logs for me to not have to explain them” a smile creeps onto both your mouths. Look down to your food and think.

“Why?” you finish chewing the food in your mouth and swallow before continuing “I mean the research wouldn’t exactly benefit us, it’s not like we have any inexperienced drivers or scientists readily available to test something new”

He chuckles, shaking his head “Kid, if we wanted successful research that would ‘benefit’ us, we wouldn’t have become ‘rogue humans’ and stayed on a planet that doesn’t want science at all.” You look down at your food and consider his words.

And with that, the Avatar program opened again. After eating dinner you sit down in front of the video camera and talk about your experience.

It was therapeutic, especially when you did them late at night when you were completely alone. You talked about how weird it was to be in a new body, a healthy one. Being able to walk and run, feel the forest floor and see the forest.

Talking about Neteyam’s lesson was more or less something you wanted to avoid. You were embarrassed but you also didn’t know how to talk about Neteyam. You had this preconceived notion of him, you didn’t take it to heart but it was still your only knowledge of him. You couldn’t decide if it was right or not, you couldn’t decide how you feel about him.

You didn’t get to talk to Spider much, being busy with the log and then falling asleep almost immediately. You didn’t get much time at breakfast, waking up late because you spent so much time recording your log. So when Spider was out the door, your link pod was closing and you were in the jungle, laying in your hammock as the slimmer of sunlight creeps into your tent.

You’re not so tired anymore, the perks of being an Avatar you guess. You don’t hesitate this time, leaving your hammock and joining the bustle of the village with as much confidence as you can muster.

“Tuk! Don’t go so fast! Mom wants you with her for breakfast!” You hear Kiri yell, before you can really process anything, a small figure is slamming into your legs, almost knocking you over.

“Y/n! Y/n!” She grabs both your hands in hers and starts jumping up and down, she’s way to energetic for this early in the morning. A fond smile creeps onto your lips and you reach down, scooping her into your arms and bringing her close for a hug.

“Oh tuk tuk tuk..” You murmur her name as she wraps her arms around you neck, her hands fiddling with your loose and messy hair. You smile as Kiri jogs up to both of you, smiling and reaching over to place a hand on Tuk’s back.

“Tuk you cannot run off like that!” Kiri scolds as calmly as she can, you chuckle as Tuk just whips her head around with a quick “Sorry Kiri!” before turning back to your hair, mumbling something about the beads she wanted to braid into it.

You offer her a smile “Good morning Kiri” you giggle, she stares at Tuk for a moment before turning her attention to you.

“Good morning Y/n, more training today?” She asks, Lo’ak walking up next to her, raising his brows to say he’s wondering the same thing.

You nod, smiling as Lo’ak rolls his eyes. “God you’re gonna have such a stick up your ass by the time Neteyam is done with you” You gasp as Kiri punches his shoulder, both of you gesturing to a now confused and curious Tuk.

She looks at you wide eyes, humming a confused noise before you tell her nothing was wrong, she shrugs and goes back to the loose braids she was making with the underside of your hair. You glare at Lo’ak as he puts his hands up and laughs. “Point proven” He mumbles out, being met with another sharp punch to his shoulder.

“Well i’m glad you finally met Neteyam, making up for all the years you hung out with us but never him huh?” Kiri nudges your arm, wriggling her eyebrows. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“If i’m gonna learn the ways of the people then i’m going to be spending a lot of time with him.” You state with a sign, you roll your eyes as Kiri and Lo’ak both chuckle, making comments about your ‘soon to be closeness’ with their brother.

Tuk pulls back for a second, a wide and curious smile on her face. “Y/n!” she whisper yells, you turn your head so your ear is facing her, playing along with her childish habits. She giggles before leaning in and ‘whispering’ even louder “Do you have a crush on Neteyam!?”

Her question catches you off guard, making you freeze, a slight blush heating your cheeks. Kiri and Lo’ak, who both unintentionally leaned in to hear Tuk, burst out laughing. Lo’ak with his full chest, doubling over, over dramatic laugh he always does. Kiri, in contrast, throws her head back and stifles her laugh a bit by covering her mouth with her hand.

You send the two siblings a quick glare before looking back to Tuk. “No no Tuk, he’s just teaching me” you’re quick to clarify, flustered by her question.

She giggles “But if you diiiiid, then you could be my sister!” she exclaims, patting your shoulders excitedly. Kiri and Lo’ak look to you, you widen your eyes as if to ask how on earth such a young child knew all this?

Kiri raises a brow to Lo’ak who shakes his head and mouths “it wasn’t me”

You shake your head and look down to Tuk. She’s a persistent girl, she latches onto an idea and rarely ever gives it up, her easily distracted demeanor misleading you to think she’d forget, only for her to bring it up with as much determination months later.

You think for a moment before nuzzling your head into her cheek making her giggle. “Oh but Tuk-Tuk I love you so much already!” You glance up to Kiri who steps forward and places her hand on Tuk’s head.

“Yeah Tuk, Y/n doesn’t need to mate with our brother to be your sister” Kiri explains, Tuk looks back to her and thinks for a moment before smiling and turning her head back to you, nodding vigorously. Kiri leans into your ear and whispers “Nice save”

You give her a smile and lean closer to her “You too” you say under your breath. Lo’ak appears from behind you both, throwing his arms over both your shoulders, wedging himself between you and the older sister.

“Besides, Tuk, if Y/n were to mate with anyone it would be me!” He states proudly, shooting you a sly grin. Before you can react, he’s looking over his shoulder and calling out to someone behind you. “Isn’t that right Neteyam?”

You can feel your body freeze, you feel your blood run cold as you turn your whole body, Lo’ak briefly taking his arm off you to turn with you, placing his arm across your shoulders again and leaning against you more.

Neteyam stands, several feet away, carrying several logs of wood, a confused look on his face. “What?” he asks, looking between you and his siblings. You can hear Kiri angrily asking Lo’ak ‘what the fuck is wrong with him’

Lo’ak grins at you before looking back to Neteyam “If me and Y/n mated then she and Tuk could be sisters!” His voice is loud in your ear, his hand reaching up from next to you head to pinch your cheek. Lo’ak’s always had a bit of a flirty personality, it was a joke between the two of you to flirt sometimes, always acting out dramatic scenarios as a kid, but it’s been a while since he showed any form of interest outside of his usual flirt.

Neteyam looks between the two of you, Lo’ak is smirking like an asshole, tilting his head back in the defiant way he started doing the past few years. Tuk is looking at him bright eyed and shaking her head up and down, her intentions much more innocent than her brothers, genuinely excited at the idea of the girl she’s been so fond of being apart of the family.

Kiri seems to share his confusion, looking at their brother with an annoyed and baffled look. She turns her attention to him, shaking her head, the scene resembled the almost everyday occurrences when they were kids. Kiri compliant with Lo’ak’s antics while avoiding being an enabler and encouraging Neteyam to let it go. Neteyam and Lo’ak at a standstill, except this time its different, it’s no longer about Lo’ak unable to hold back from his adventurous personality and Neteyam only wanting the best for him.

The air between You and Neteyam as he makes eye contact with you is thick. This situation mirrors the game they’ve been playing their whole lives except you are here.

“Yeah” his voice is flat. You stand there awkwardly, eyes following his retreating figure. Lo’ak cackles and Kiri scolds him more loudly.

“C’mon it was funny! And I didn’t do anything wrong!” You hear Lo’ak defending himself from Kiri, reasoning it’s not a big deal and Neteyam could take a joke. “C’mon Y/n, stop pouting like that, It wouldn’t be that bad if we mated”

You finally pull your eyes off of Neteyam, who was now sitting in front of the fire, meeting Lo’ak’s grinning face. This is the boy you’ve known almost all your life, the one who’d stay in your room for hours on end despite how cramped it was for him. It’s Lo’ak.

You smile lamely “What is that Kiri says?” You raise your eyebrows, Kiri stepping closer and flicking Lo’ak’s forehead. “I would drink acid” you articulate, leaning into his face, grinning. He rolls his eyes and laughs, pushing you back by your shoulder.

You were focused on recovering from the situation that you failed to notice Neteyams eyes on you.

More drama and romance is to come! been a little busy but i've def got some ideas lol

#avatar #avatar: the way of water #avatar twow #avatar 2 #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x reader #protective neteyam #spider socorro #angst #fluff #x reader #reader insert #writer #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you

473 notes · View notes

theladyragnell · 6 months ago

Note

☕️ Leverage / Leverage: Redemption!

I feel like my adoration of Leverage is well-documented, so let's talk a bit about Redemption!

A lot of people have said that it's not as good as original Leverage, and I don't dispute that! Original Leverage was lightning in a bottle, the product of certain times and circumstances, and because it wasn't owned by Amazon, it had license to be a bit more pointed at times. I think in all of our minds, from the way the original show ended, what we wanted was Leverage: Black Book, where more and more crews signed on and they dealt with bigger problems, all of which is implied to be going on in the background but which doesn't get the focus in Leverage: Redemption.

But I think a lot of things are going on here that make people like it less, and I think some of them are really interesting!

So to start: there's no Nate (which, to be clear, is a good thing, given why the character was eliminated). And Nate was very much The Main Character. He had a team, but Nate got season arcs and the last word, he was the heist leader, and his abrasiveness and cynicism made for really specific character dynamics. They replaced him with Harry, a completely different character, which was wise, and Harry's first season arc in particular was a really cool one for the show to do, but he sort of moved the Shenanigans Window (like the Overton Window but for Shenanigans) in a totally different direction to Nate. So just by virtue of that, we've got a different show. (And actually a thing I really like about Redemption is that the first season was Harry's arc about his redemption and the second season is Sophie's. I'm really interested to see who comes up next, and it's going to be Very chewy when we get to Eliot.)

While we talk casting changes, we all of course miss more regular appearances from Aldis Hodge desperately. Brianna is great and I adore her, but also she's very much like Hardison as he was in the early days of the show, the youngest and most naive on the crew and often in need of protection, so it feels like the hacker hasn't matured at all when the rest of the team is in a totally different stage of career and character development.

And then there's the central problem, which is that things have gotten so much worse in the decade between the end of Leverage and the start of Leverage: Redemption. Everything sucks so much, corporations have incredible amounts of power, it's all So Bad, but Leverage is dealing with the same size of story. It's implied that Hardison isn't, and he's the window into the world's bigger problems, but again, he's a small part of the show due to actor constraints. So while the show has gotten a little sillier under Harry's influence (and quite possibly under the influence of the writer's room, they are choosing what to write for Harry, after all), the real-world stakes of the stories have gotten significantly more real to all of us, and it can be jarring!

There are other problems, things that don't quite fit characterizations, but I think the biggest problem is that Leverage: Redemption got pulled a little lighter by team dynamics when the world we live in got pulled a lot darker by Everything, so it's no longer really on the cutting edge and pushing the envelope the way it was a decade ago, and never will be because Amazon owns it.

And that sucks! I'd love to see a Leverage that went deeper and didn't have the corporate shine on it! But I think I'm also more forgiving of it than a lot of passionate Original Leverage fans.

#anonymous #answered asks

32 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

Text

episode one

-- -- --

[The screen seems to blink; first black then a flash of many colours, before focusing and settling on the scene the camera is filming. Seven people sit squished together on a couch – the paladins of Voltron. Some look particularly happier about the predicament than others.]

Lance, Allura (beaming): Hiya, everyone!

[Allura ducks her head to whisper something at Lance. She is not very good at whispering, so her words are picked up by the microphone.]

Allura: Did I say it correctly? Hiya?

[Lance makes a ‘perfect’ motion with his hands.]

Lance (whispering also): You nailed it!

[Both teens nod resolutely at each other and turn back to the camera.]

Lance: You guys loved that first episode. We got…so many space e-mails.

Hunk (amused): I think we can just call them e-mails, buddy.

[Lance sticks his tongue out at him, playfully annoyed, and then turns to Pidge, who is squished next to him and scowling heavily. He nudges her.]

Lance: If it’s in space, I say space. Space goo, space castle, space lions. Right, Pidgey?

Pidge (deadpan): You have three seconds to explain why I’m here or I’m tasing you again.

Lance: Yeesh, dude, fine.

[He turns to the camera, smiling, but it is significantly more mischievous than before.]

Lance: I mentioned that I got several space e-mails. Several hundred, really.

[Pidge taps her wrist.]

Lance: I’m getting there! Holy moly!

[He huffs at her, then turns his attention away, dragging something from his pocket and stuffing it into his hands before anyone can see.]

Lance: ANYWAYS. After I sorted through all the various marriage proposals for Hunk and some of the most insane strings of sentences that have ever been uttered thought or posted – and I’m a bisexual thot, so that’s saying something; some of y’all are horny – there were some genuinely interesting questions. So I thought we could answer some of them!

[He waves the thing he took from his pocket, which is now clear to be a stack of papers. His announcement draws a mix of emotions; whoops of excitement from the Alteans, an exasperated and fond sigh from Hunk, a look of resignation from Shiro, a groan of distress from Pidge, and a look from Keith that can only be described as the same wariness one might have when approaching a feral animal. Uncaring of any negativity, Lance primly straightens the papers, holding one in front of him with great fanfare.]

Lance: We’ll start with some group questions. Ease us all into it. Oh, I forgot to mention that I used one of Pidge’s programs to pick these questions for me based off a few parameters, so I genuinely have no idea what they’re going to be. I thought it would be more fun that way.

[He clears his throat.]

Lance: ‘To the Voltron team – what’s it like living with the same people every day? Is it fun, like a sleepover? Is there someone who’s a particularly worse roommate than the others?’

Lance: Oooooou, drama.

[A moment of contemplative silence.]

Shiro: Most of us are pretty used to sharing spaces with people, I think. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ve lived the majority of my life in a military facility since I was twelve, so.

All other humans: Same.

Pidge: Well, not that long. It is a little more new to me. But I lived with my brother and parents before all this, so I’m totally used to banging on the bathroom door in the mornings because someone is hogging it.

[She looks pointedly at Lance. He shrugs.]

Lance: I will not apologise for my commitment to looking beautiful. It pays off, and you are all granted the privilege of looking at me, so.

Keith (confused): You have to try to be pretty?

[Hunk chokes. Shiro whips his head to stare at his brother, wide-eyed. Pidge frantically digs around for her phone, then remembers the camera, looking straight at it with an evil grin. Lance’s jaw drops.]

[Keith continues to stare at the Blue Paladin in confusion, oblivious to the double meaning of his question.]

Lance (hoarsely): What?

Keith: I mean, you get the soap and wash your face and hair and body and go. How do you…make yourself pretty? That’s just something you are or are not, right?

[Shiro places his head in his hands. His shoulders shake.]

Shiro: Oh, dear God.

[Hunk is biting his lip harshly to keep from laughing. Pidge and Allura offer no such courtesy, giggling openly to themselves.]

Lance:...

Lance: Keith, tell me you’re not washing your fucking hair with bar soap.

[All embarrassment seems to be forgotten in favour of disbelief.]

Keith: Of course I am. I actually do wash my hair, you know. Frequently.

Lance: With fucking bar so –

[He takes a deep, calming breath, bodily moving himself away as if proximity to Keith will somehow make his own hair-washing habits degrade.]

Lance: I am done talking about this. You are the worst roommate.

Keith: What? How? Because I wash my hair like a normal person?

Keith: At least I do it fast! You’re the worst roommate because you take four billion years to brush your teeth!

Lance (screeching): This mouth is plaque and gingivitis free, you skanky hoe! I spend a normal amount of time in the bathroom, you’re just a knobhead!

[Before Keith can argue back, Hunk reaches over and places a placating hand on Lance’s head.]

Hunk: Sorry, buddy, but as your roommate of almost six years now, you spend an insane amount of time in front of a mirror. I don’t have enough time in the day to count how often it would make us late.

Keith (emphatically): See? Worst roommate.

[Coran hums disapprovingly.]

Coran: I’m not sure that’s true, Number Four. He does more chores than the rest of you.

[Various mutters of agreeance.]

Shiro: True. Who’s the worst, then?

Pidge: Well, Hunk is always sneaking into my workshop and rearranging my shit.

Hunk: First of all, shared workshop. I am simply meandering over to your half. Second of all, I wouldn’t have to snoop if you simply indulged my curiosity.

Lance (deadpan): The same curiosity that inspired you to build and code a device to break into my phone when I wouldn’t tell you the name of the person I was seeing?

Hunk: In my defense, you generally have bad taste. You’ve been mugged four times.

Lance: Privacy, Hunk. Snoops are the worst roommates.

Allura: But he makes us treats! Surely that must count for something.

[Hunk looks at her, adoring and playful.]

Hunk: Allura, you are my favourite.

[Allura beams.]

Allura: Thank you!

Shiro: Hm. I suppose we all have annoying habits, but we’re all pretty helpful, too.

Coran (teasing): How diplomatic, Number One.

Lance: Taking that as a cue to move on.

[He looks down at his stack of papers.]

Lance: Uh, a couple of these are pretty straightforward. ‘What is the best part of being a paladin?’

Keith (immediately): Helping people.

[No one voices protest.]

Lance (quietly): Next one.

Lance: ‘Do you have to train a lot?’

[Three humans groan in unison. Shiro looks amused. Allura looks huffy. Keith looks a little bit like a teacher’s pet.]

Pidge: All fucking day!

Allura (primly): That is a gross exaggeration.

Hunk: The only gross thing around here is how sweaty I get after the bajillion thousand years of training every morning. It is agony.

Lance: Agreed. I got so sweaty I broke out the other day. Broke out. Me. I had to be consoled.

[Hunk and Pidge both nod very seriously. Pidge places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.]

Hunk: It was a very difficult night.

Shiro (smiling): Next question, you dorks.

Lance: This one is for Allura! ‘Were you friends with the mice before the cryo pod or did you only befriend them after? If the former, how did you end up becoming friends with them?’

[Allura lights up, either at the first directed question being to her personally, or because she is excited to show off her pets. She immediately pulls the mice out of her pockets, where they had been peacefully sleeping, and they blink and yawn as they wake, scampering up her arms to rest on her head.]

Allura: These friends are new! They were little stowaways. If I had known they were on the castle I would have befriended them much sooner.

Coran: She is very fond of animals. She would spend hours as a child building careful and gentle traps for any ‘pests’ that roamed the castle and disturbed the residents, so she could safely free them.

[Lance feigns an arrow to the heart, collapsing dramatically backwards. Everyone else simply smiles fondly.]

[Allura barely notices, attention turned upwards to her pets, where she strokes them gently.]

Allura: I love my friends very much. They make everything…

[She pauses for a moment, expression saddening.]

Allura: They help me keep a piece of home.

[Shiro reaches over to squeeze her shoulder. She smiles gratefully at him. After a moment she turns to look at Lance, indicating for him to continue.]

Lance: Two more.

[He takes a moment to read the first, then grins, sharp and teasing.]

Lance: ‘For Hunk: so did you and Shay ever become an iiiiiiteeeeeem?’

[Hunk flushes red. The rest of the team snickers, teasing and poking at him.]

Hunk: I doubt there was that much emphasis in the space e-mail, Lance.

Lance: No, there was.

[Keith crawls over the back of the couch to lean over Lance’s shoulder. He turns to Hunk, smirking.]

Keith: It definitely does, dude. Big and bold.

Lance (smugly): Thank you, Keith.

[Hunk scowls.]

Hunk: Funny how it’s suddenly easy for you two to work together when it benefits you.

Hunk: But whatever. We’ve been in contact. We have to follow up with people, you know.

Lance: Oh of course, of course.

Keith: Exactly the kind of kindness we expect from you, Hunk.

Pidge: Standard procedure.

Shiro: I would even say it’s protocol.

Allura: I’d be disappointed if you weren’t following up, truly.

Coran: Astounded by your commitment, dear boy.

[Hunk sighs, long and heavy.]

Hunk: I hate all of you. Move on, Lance, or I’m leaving.

Lance: Okay, grouchy.

[He turns to the last sheet, reading it carefully. Suddenly, his face blooms bright crimson, and he flips the page over, slamming it onto his knees.]

Lance (hurriedly): My mistake! Misprint, there’s nothing on this page. That’s all for this episode, everyone, tune in for the next –

Keith: Oh, no you don’t.

[Keith leans over and snatches the paper from Lance’s lap faster than Lance can stop him. Lance screeches, lunging after him, but he is too fast, and besides everyone else but Coran piles on top of him, barring him from tackling Keith to the ground. The Red Paladin perches on the back of the couch, paper in hand, hair mussed and wild and smile victorious.]

Keith: ‘Do you really not remember the Bonding Moment –

[Lance lets out a scream of emotional agony.]

Keith: – or were you just faking?’ Bonding moment is capitalised, by the way. In case you wanted to pretend you didn’t know exactly what this is talking about.

Lance (stubbornly): I don’t.

[Three people pinch him at once.]

Lance: Ouch! This is extortion!

Pidge: Deserved extortion, you liar.

Lance: I had brain damage! I don’t remember jack about shit!

Keith (voice cracking) (again): I cradled you in my arms!

Lance: No way! Don’t remember –

Keith (threatening): If you say ‘didn’t happen’, McClain, I swear to God –

Lance: – didn’t happen!

Hunk: One day you are going to piss off the angry knife boy just so and you are going to get stabbed. And I might not stop him.

Lance: This place is the worst. None of you love me. Only Coran.

[Coran gently pats Lance’s ankle.]

Coran: I don’t believe you either, dear.

Lance: Well, that’s fine. I will simply wallow away in agony and despair.

Coran: You do that.

[Lance sighs loudly, then squirms his way out of his teammates’ hold so his head his peeking out, glancing at the camera.]

Lance (sagely): Remember this injustice, Lance stans. I know you’re out there. Avenge me.

[On that dramatic note, the video cuts.]

134 notes · View notes

doetic · 18 hours ago

Text

There's Doodles of Rams in the Margins - Enemies to lovers!Jschlatt x F!Reader x Hasan Piker (pt.2)

Masterlist // Playlist

Plot: Anxiety threatens to ruin Y/n's morning after the disaster of the night she had before. Despite this she pushes on, but her hopes of having a good day is ruined when she finds Schlatt's usual asshole self in her kitchen. Word Count: 2171

The Women's Guide to Sex, Love, and the City

Melanie92 writes in: Dear Y/n, how do you handle humiliation? Recently I was at a party and had a drink thrown on me in front of a guy I’ve been hoping to start something with, and to make matters worse I started crying right then and there! I haven’t been able to face him or my friends since.Dear Melanie92, I think we have all been there. I would say the best solution is to reach out to your friends as soon as possible. It is scary to face anyone after a humiliating experience, but people often underestimate how much their friends care about them, and (I am aware of how cheesy I sound saying this) the power of friendship is more healing than you’d think.On the potential love interest front, any man who would not stay interested in you after something like that is a man you should cut your losses with. Would you like to be in a relationship for years where you are forced to be perfect at all times? I think…

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next morning began significantly better than the night before it ended. You woke up well rested, your soreness washed away into a dull ache that only made itself known if you stretched your body too hard. For the duration of your morning routine you didn’t find yourself thinking much about the party at all. In a way, it was as if the sun had washed away what had occurred last night. Every time your brain dredged it up you reasoned with yourself that it wasn’t as if you’d see much of Schlatt again anyways so there wasn’t much point of dwelling on the matter.

Regardless of your good mood, however, you delayed opening your phone, feeling a pit in your stomach every time you thought of waking up the black sleeping screen to see if anything had gotten out about the incident. Though, from the lack of notifications coming from the device, you felt a little optimistic of Ted’s pull within the group of people that were there to witness it. You distracted yourself from the device by getting dressed, not yet wanting to discard your fairly good mood by giving into the temptation to unlock your phone. Even the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through your body. Instead, you opted to occupy your thoughts by getting dressed. You needed to go out and grab toothpaste anyways, and you’ve spent far too much money on clothes – as an immigrant to the U.S, you found yourself falling victim to the enticingly luxurious NYC lifestyle quite often – to go out in just athleisure.

The smell of eggs wafting from the kitchen had you instantly on guard. F/n made you eggs usually as a way to butter you up before breaking something big. When F/n would serve you a plate, she would often wait for you to get about halfway into the dish before breaking whatever news she had stored in her mouth to you with an apologetic wince, as if each forkful you lifted to your mouth were seconds counting down on a clock.

You hoped it was nothing too bad, today was the day you were to sift through the new roommates F/n had found to replace her. She was the reason you moved to NYC and thought it unfair that her moving in with Ted would uproot your newly settled life unless she found someone to cover her half of the rent. You knew F/n wouldn’t do you wrong, certainly you’d become fast friends with the new addition to the apartment, something you looked forward to with your current counter of friends in the area totalling to a whopping one.

You tried not to let the feeling of impending doom that prickled at your every nerve bring you down from the good mood you woke up in – a good mood that seemed increasingly fragile as the day carried on. You intended to move into the open kitchen and living room space with a sense of purpose, though you felt sure your tentative curiosity was evident in your gait.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your words escaped your mouth faster than your eyes could process the sight before them. Seated at your kitchen island, with a haggard, hungover expression, was Schlatt. Beside him was Ted, who paused his conversation with his friend to look back and forth between you and F/n – her anxious form positioned at the stove with a guilty smile – with worry.

The sight before you was like ice water being poured upon your warm, happy body. Although you were not physically shaking, the anger that vibrated within your form was akin to violent shivering.

“Quiet down toots, m’head hurts,” There was the nickname again, emerging from his throat like a groan.

“I…made eggs?” F/n gave you a nervous grin.

You narrowed your eyes at the group and ignored the only open seat at the island beside Schlatt, opting to walk over and lean against the side of the island countertop.

“Ted, why do you look like a kid in trouble?” His guilty eyes darted away from your face. From his expression, it seemed as if pressing for an answer from him would be faster than waiting for F/n’s likely roundabout explanation. “What’s going on?”

Ted opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Schlatt, whose eyes squinted in pain at the sight of the window behind you. “I’m your new roomie, surprise.” His voice was harsh towards you, but turned more polite as he addressed F/n. “Can I have some more eggs, please?”

“F/n don’t you dare give him my apology eggs,” You narrowed your eyes. She plated the eggs that were in the pan and slid them, along with a fork, across the counter your way. “Is he being for real?”

F/n waited in tense silence for half of the egg to be eaten – as was custom, although with the small size of the egg and your morning hunger it took less time than usual – before she replied.

“I planned it before you two met, and it's too late to change it up now. Finding someone decent this late wouldn’t be easy, if possible,” She explained. Although she seemed like she didn’t care too much about the matter, it was apparent to you, having known her for so long, that she wasn’t too enthused about the situation either and was putting on a polite facade around Schlatt.

“I’m right here,” Schlatt spoke up. “Like, I’m currently in the room as you speak about me.”

“Oh don’t worry, Schlatt. I’m unfortunately all too aware of your presence,” You verbally jabbed at him in between forkfuls.

He let out a sardonic laugh, “Obsessive much?”

You conjured up a daydream of diving across the table with a scream and shaking Schlatt violently.

Ted – who had seemed like little more than F/n’s ornamentally passive malewife in every prior interaction involving Schlatt’s douchebaggery – interrupted your thoughts and for once spoke up before a glare from his girlfriend was sent his way. His face was painted with a sense of confusion and annoyance at his friend's behaviour. Was Schlatt not usually this stuck up? You felt even more annoyed at the notion that he was just this prideful around you specifically. You hadn’t done anything to him!

“Shut up, man. Let’s get a head start on moving F/n’s boxes,” Ted’s words seemed to shock Schlatt a bit, and you had to respect Ted a bit for it – although you believed you’d always dislike and distrust him as the boyfriend of your best friend. With Ted’s words, Schlatt got up and headed to F/n’s room, leaving you and your friend alone. At least he had put his dishes in the sink before leaving.

“What’s his fucking deal?” Once the two were confidently out of earshot, you plopped down in the empty seat you had refused to sit in before with a groan.

“I don’t know,” F/n leaned against the island with her elbows. “He’s always been pretty nice to me and everyone else I’ve seen him with,” A sigh deflated her body slightly. “That’s why I thought he’d be a good roommate… well that and his income. I knew with his wealth he’d easily be able to afford rent. The only reason he doesn’t have a house is because it’s a hassle to go through the process of owning.”

“Is he some bigshot youtuber like Ted?” You finished the last of your eggs.

“Bigger, four million.”

You snorted, recalling his attitude and miserable appearance around you. “Those four million people must be fucking miserable.”

“I’m not too happy about this either Y/n. The way he treats you is so fucked, especially last night. Ted took care of that by the way, he’s got a lot of friends. You shouldn’t see it posted.”

“Ted’s still on thin ice,” F/n shot you an incredulous look. “Hey! I care about you, I just met the man! I can’t trust him too quickly. But anyways, thank him for me.”

F/n gave you a satisfied smile before getting back to the topic. “Don’t worry Y/n, it won’t be too long. Just until Schlatt gets his shit together and can get a place to live in again. He’s been going through some housing issues, he needs this place. He shouldn’t be too bothersome.”

You snorted. “I think we’re far past that point.”

“Ted thinks Schlatt’s just embarrassed by how drunk he was. He’s prideful and doesn’t really like being wrong, or in the wrong. Maybe he’s got too much pride to apologise and is just doubling down? That doesn’t make it okay, regardless.”

“That's such a man thing to do. I see this all the time when people write to me. Why are men such…” You searched for the word before crying out in exasperation. “...men!”

“It all boils down to the patriarchy,” F/n shrugged. “That's why I like my boyfriends like Ted, whipped.”

“Eww! TMI!” You teased, intentionally taking her words in the wrong way to mess with her.

“Not like that! You know what I meant!” F/n squealed and hit you with the dishtowel light-heartedly. You caught it and stood up laughing, collecting your dishes in your free hand and heading to the sink. She stopped you, taking the items from you. “No, you had a shit morning. I’ll do it. Besides, I saw you talking with some guy last night. Take the time I’m saving you to text him and tell me about it after.”

You weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Okay, thank you F/n.” You relented. “But I’m taking you out for goodbye drinks tonight as a thank you when I do!” You smiled, heading down the hallway, not letting her protest the implications that you'd be paying.

You knew eavesdropping was bad, but with your room right beside F/n’s in the hallway, you preferred the phrase ‘overhearing while loitering’ to describe how you stopped in your tracks in front of your door at the sound of Schlatt and Ted’s voices. “Be nice man, she means a lot to F/n and F/n means a lot to me,” Ted scolded his friend. “But not too nice, like not falling in love nice. That doesn't usually work out with roommates.”

You hated how you were coming to know Schlatt so well that your brain autofilled in the quiet chuckle you were sure he let out at Ted's words. “She’s alright looking, but not hot enough to tempt me.”

You had to hold back the offended gasp that intruded uncomfortably in your throat.

“She was hot enough to attract Hasan–”

“Hasan’s a–!” You didn’t hear the rest of Schlatt’s thoughts, angrily retreating into your room. What an asshole, how much more stuck up could he be! It wasn’t as if you wanted his attention, but the frank way he stated it had you fuming at the impoliteness of it all. You had done nothing to this man, and yet he was rude to you for what? His damn pride? Well he could certainly take his damn pride and shove it–!

You flopped onto your bed and muffled your angry yell with your pillow. It took a few moments for you to calm down your rage filled body before you rolled over onto your back and pulled out your phone that had been confirmed safe, creating a new text to the contact saved under Hasan. The lingering sting of Schlatt’s words was something you wanted to get over, and a meeting with the attractive man who seemed to be into you sounded perfect right now. Your fingers quickly tapped on the phone keyboard, desperate for a distraction.

[Y/n]: Hey Hasan, It’s Y/n from last night!

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasanabi x reader

14 notes · View notes

wyattjohnston · 1 year ago

Text

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

last < table of contents > next

In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.

#nick blankenburg fic #nick blankenburg imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #cbj fic #need a little company fic

37 notes · View notes

cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 months ago

Note

Part two!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰(I’m LOVING this! I have such theories i can’t wait to see if i’m right! And once again you’re a master of using your line breaks to enhance a story - it’s so meta i love it!)

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️(whodunit? I don’t know! I’m so excited to find out! Really loving athena’s pov especially for this story it’s so fun!)

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷(CAL YOURE DOING BTHB?!?!??!!! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SURVIVE THAT?????!!!!! It seems like you’re maybe starting us off light but i can never be sure with you… you’re an angst master and i cant wait to read all your stories!)

I hope you know that reading your snippets is genuinely one of the highlights of my day! Your work makes me so happy thank you for sharing!

- PCA <3

HI PCA!

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR BEING THE LOVELIEST PERSON EVER???

60 for ➰ (Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! And thanks! i have so much fun with the line breaks)

Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings

---

“Not the exact same,” Eddie explains nervously. “It’s like some things matter, and others don’t. I don’t know about today, though. Maybe we have, yeah.”

Buck thinks nervously about the prospect that one of them might die horribly at any moment.

“Okay, which things matter?” Buck asks.

“The restaurant. We have to go to the restaurant,” Eddie explains.

“Okay,” Buck nods. “Right at the same time.”

“Yep,” Eddie confirms. “And we have to go kayaking. You have to hit your head.”

“What?” Buck complains. “Why? Come on!”

“I didn’t choose it, Buck!” Eddie practically whines. “Just, every time you don’t, something worse happens. Without fail. We don’t have to eat breakfast on the patio. We can go to the beach or the pool. But if we don’t go kayaking, and you don’t hit your head, and we avoid the restaurant, it’s worse for… For one of us.”

Which doesn’t just mean Buck. It could mean Eddie or Chris, too. Damn it.

“Alright, alright,” Buck sighs. “But we could run through a drive-thru this morning? We could wake up and stay in bed longer next time?”

Eddie nods.

“Okay,” Buck exhales. “Okay, this helps.”

“Please don’t say anything to Chris,” Eddie begs. “Especially about dying. I know he’ll just forget, but…”

“You don’t want to freak him out,” Buck fills in.

Eddie nods again. “I just want him - and you - to be as happy as possible. Okay?”

Buck tries to avoid narrowing his eyes in concern. Eddie has been the sole lucid person in this experience for a while. He’s whittled it down to a formula. A neatly rehearsed show that he stages every twelve hours, with no end in sight. Buck has thrown that off. Like, significantly. He gets why Eddie is nervous.

“Don’t worry,” Buck promises, squeezing his hand. “I’m gonna follow your lead, okay? You know how this all works.”

Eddie sighs, relieved. “Thank you.”

“Having me aware will be good,” Buck tells him. “Right? You’re not alone now.”

Eddie scratches his head. “I… I had you before, too. I wasn’t alone.”

---

36 for ☠️ (THANK YOU! I am so happy you're interested. I was nervous to write this one):

---

“Alright,” Athena says. “Well… Let’s say a crime was committed.”

“How bad of a crime?” Bobby asks.

See, this is where they differ. Bobby thinks in terms like that. Athena mostly just sees the law. She does need his perspective right now.

“Among the worst sort,” Athena says.

“Okay,” Bobby nods. “Got it.”

“It’s hard to feel bad for the person who was hurt by this crime,” Athena continues. “They aren’t a great person. But that doesn’t matter, right?”

“It shouldn’t,” Bobby agrees. He already knows this is how she feels. Opinions towards the victim or perpetrator isn’t the point of the law. At least, not usually.

“Except, without knowing the specifics, and I don’t…” Athena sighs. “What if the alleged criminals, in this specific scenario, had a really good reason for what they did? A reason you trust?”

Bobby is silent for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Athena begins to worry.

“This really doesn’t sound like you,” he eventually says.

“I know,” she admits.

“So the question here, really, is, do you do your job?” Bobby asks. “Or do you follow your gut?”

“I guess it is.”

“And those two things are usually harmonious,” he continues.

She nods. “Right.”

“Hmm,” Bobby considers. “Athena, I think… I think you need to think about what feels best to you. What can you live with?”

---

30 for 🦷: (I AM! I've been having fun with Gotcha For Gaza prompts, so I thought I'd take a few more prompt like things to inspire me).

---

Not even two minutes later, Christopher is sitting on a chair in the kitchen, mouth open, while Eddie shines a little light to illuminate its dark interior. The gums around his back molars on all sides are red and inflamed. Angry. It soon becomes clear why. Eddie can see the beginnings of four impacted wisdom teeth trying to poke through, pressing up against his gums and his other molars.

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighs.

“What?” Chris asks, words muffled by the set of his extended jaw. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Your wisdom teeth are trying to come through,” Eddie says. He steps back from Chris and turns off the light. “But they’re impacted. Which just means they’re growing in against your other teeth and causing a lot of pain.”

“Oh,” Chris says. “What do I do?”

I, not we. Like he has to solve his problems himself now. He didn’t talk like that before this summer.

“Well, you’ll probably need a surgery to remove them,” Eddie says.

Christopher’s face twists with apprehension.

“It’s a little surgery,” Eddie assures him. “Nothing scary like you had in the past. Lots of people have to have it.”

Buck could probably rhyme off the exact percentage of people who need it.

To his surprise, Christopher starts to cry. His face goes even redder.

“Aren’t I too young for that?” He blubbers.”I-I don’t want it!”

“Hey, Chris, it’s okay,” Eddie says soothingly. He reaches out to lay a hand on his son’s shoulder.

#daisies and briars writes #time likes pulling my teeth fic

11 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 2 years ago

Text

Therapy IV

I didn't think I'd be writing a part four for this Therapy series if it wasn't for this message, thank you so much to this lovely anon.

Warnings: 18+ topics mentioned, jealous Harry

“My God, you’re beautiful,” she spun around and smiled at Harry approaching her much like the last time. “Y’really gonna be the death of me in this dress, kitten."

Hey, kitten, how’s your day? xx

The smile that popped onto her face made her stomach flutter at the same time as she opened her message from Harry. All she could think about was his sweet-dimpled face and his pretty eyes. Texting him at lunch time had become a routine for them. A quick check-in to get each other through the rest of the day.

It’s good, how’s yours?

It feels long. I want to go home and watch a movie with you.

She shamelessly giggled at her phone while she responded. Same here. I think it’s your turn to pick.

Well, I don’t actually plan on watching it, so I’ll let you pick. I just want to look at you and kiss you and stuff.

And stuff?

Good stuff, I promise. xx

She felt her cheeks warm even though no one was around her. I like the way you think, Harry.

Her phone rang instead of his response to her. “Hi,” Harry said cutely.

She giggled. “Hi.”

“I jus’ wanted t’say that no one in my past relationships ever really called me Harry,” he said. “So I like when you use it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed with a grin. “That’s cute,” she giggled.

“Don’t make me blush.”

“Hey love,” It was so shocking that Harry felt like his whole body stopped it’s auto-functioning. He was certain he stopped breathing. It felt like his heart nearly exploded out of his chest at the sound of someone else calling her “love.”

“Hold on one second,” she said to the phone. Harry wanted to die that she was going to respond.

“Oh sorry,” the voice said. Harry was bristling with anger at the interruption.

“It’s okay, what’s up?” Harry didn’t like that she thought it was okay that he was interrupting their phone call.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I know you’re on your lunch,” Harry wished he could see him. He also wished to strangle him, but through the phone he knew it wouldn’t be possible. “But it’s an absolute shitshow in this meeting right now. We can’t add two numbers together to save our lives and we’re about to make your job a whole lot harder if you don’t help us soon.”

“Leave it to you to call on the accountant for math help—I appreciate you trying to make my job easier.”

“Who else would I ask, love?” He chuckled. Again, Harry was nearly sweating with how angry he was.

“I’ll be one minute,” she said and then to Harry she sighed. “M’sorry, Harry. I have to go.”

Trying to contain how frustrated he was by something that was not her fault was next to impossible. But he thought he managed well given the circumstances of how he was really feeling. “Oh, s’alright. I’ll see y’at home, kitten.”

“Bye, Harry. Love you,” she said it so sweetly Harry almost forgot that he was grumpy.

“I love you, too, baby,” he managed to respond feeling the anger slowly melt away because his love for her was so encompassing he couldn’t feel mad when he was thinking about her, let alone when all he felt was love for her.

But the second she was no longer at the other end of the phone call he was all out of sorts. It had nothing to do with her. Everything he felt was in direct response to the mystery male voice that called her love. She wasn’t his love. She was Harry’s and that was it. Harry knew she was being polite. For fuck’s sake he called most people he knew love. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and it wasn’t wrong to do it.

But he didn’t like it one bit that someone at work, with whom she spent a large chunk of time with each day, called her some pet name. What was worse, Harry knew it wasn’t the first time he called her love, and it wasn’t going to be the last. Maybe if he was significantly older Harry wouldn’t care. But until Harry knew who it was, he was going to writhe in anxiety and simmer in anger.

Immediately after, Harry cancelled his final appointment—one that wasn’t dire, so he didn’t feel too bad for his client. He also knew he would be no help if he attempted to talk and listen with him. His mind was set on one thing, and he was lucky he had enough brain power left to drive himself home without crashing from lack of attention. It didn’t stop him, however from throwing himself a pity party all the way back to their shared apartment, sulking in how mad and grumpy he felt.

On a regular day, Harry typically got home after her so he never really got a chance to spoil her by doing the little things she always took care of without so much as a question of whether it would be done or not. He threw the laundry in the washer and reloaded the dishwasher so he could get started on dinner. He didn’t really know what to make but he figured if she didn’t have to think about it, that would be nice so he settled on one of her favorite pasta dishes that Harry loved to make for her.

He heard the door open about an hour and a half after he got in. He was sitting on the stool at the breakfast bar reading his book while minding the food cooking in front of him. “Hey kitten,” he called gently.

“You got home early!” She said with delight, and he was again so affronted by how much he adored her as she all but ran from taking her shoes off and hurrying to his side. He turned on the little stool and she pushed herself between his thighs wrapping her arms around his neck as she nuzzled against his body. He once again nearly forgot he was mad. He kissed the side of her head and rubbed his hand up and down her back.

“Cancelled with m’last client,” he murmured into her hair.

She sighed contentedly and nodded against his chest. “How nice,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“How was the rest of your day?” He asked.

“It was fine...um...we’re having a company party next Friday night. It’s at this fancy club and I’m allowed to bring you, so I wanted to know if you’d like to come.”

“I always like coming with you, kitten,” he said flirtatiously.

“Shush,” she giggled and shook her head against his shirt. Harry chuckled and kissed the side of her head.

“Of course, m’love,” he said quietly. He felt the anger return once he realized he wasn’t the only one calling her love anymore. “Y’said it’s fancy. Can I request y’wear that dress y’wore to the birthday dinner?”

“I��d be okay with that,” she giggled. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Harry combed her hair away from her ear and pressed another kiss to her temple and nodded. “Can always sneak y’off into the bathroom,” he hummed into her ear. She shivered against him, and she shook her head.

“Don’t tempt me,” she mumbled.

“I believe that dress has a slit up y’leg that I like very much,” he responded. “Would be easy enough.”

“Stop,” she said. “Don’t turn me on if dinner is going to be ready soon. I’m hungry,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “Yes, kitten,” he said and released her from the hug he had held her captive in for the last few moments. “It’ll be ready soon, go do whatever it is y’do when m’not here,” he said.

She wandered down the hall toward the bathroom as she called back to him. “You mean run around naked?”

“Now who’s tempting who?”

She noted that Harry had seemed much clingier over the week. Instead of their daily texting conversation around lunch time, he started video chatting with her instead. “Just miss your face,” he said.

She smiled at him and felt her face warm at his assessment. She liked it though. Everything about Harry made her feel so loved and adored. Being with him as a roommate was almost no different than being his girlfriend, save for, he was much touchier, there were more kisses, and of course there were a lot more orgasms. “I miss you too,” she said.

It was true. If she could, she would spend every minute with Harry. She was certain she would never get sick of him. She hoped that she wasn’t clingy, but Harry never had anything less than a smile. Even their arguments were silly—there wasn’t anything to argue about because everything was near perfect. (There was one time there was bug and Harry chased her around the whole apartment with it between his fingers until she cried—that caused quite a tiff but nothing a few kisses from him couldn’t fix.)

But Harry was rarely clingy. She had to be careful because the last thing she wanted to do was to overwhelm him. Seeing Harry acting clingy though...well it was nice. It was different and she liked the fact that she wasn’t the only one obsessed in the relationship. But it did make her wonder why he was acting this way. But not enough to ask.

Much like her friend’s birthday dinner, Harry was going to meet her at the party after he got out of work. In the same fashion as the day of the dinner, she waited outside patiently for Harry before entering.

“Hey, you coming in, or are you just going to stand out here all night?” It was her coworker as she headed up the steps to get inside.

She let out a breath of laughter. “Maybe,” she said sarcastically. “I’m just waiting on my boyfriend.”

“Oooh, the infamous boyfriend. Gonna break a lot of hearts in there tonight,” she said knowingly.

Tilting her head at her she blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, surely you know that everyone in the office is in love with you,” she rolled her eyes.

Her jaw fell open a bit and she blinked slowly. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re hot, you’re smart, you’re nice, you’re exactly the type of girl these guys want to take home to mom,” she rolled her eyes. “They’re all hoping your boyfriend isn’t real.”

Feeling her face flush red, she didn’t really know what to say in response to that. “You’re joking,” she whispered instead.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Probably just a dick measuring contest. Although if I’m to believe social media, sounds like your boyfriend will win if he’s a sex therapist. Sorry for snooping but us ladies have to stick together,” she said. Seeing that didn’t quell the worry on her friend’s face she smiled gently. “Hey, I’m only kidding. Really, it’s totally fine. They’re all just jealous you’re taken, is all.”

Rolling her lips into her mouth she shook her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t go in,” she said.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You look incredible. You can’t not go in. It will be fine. You don’t have to stay long if it because a real issue. I’m sure your boyfriend can fend off a few finance bros,” she said knowingly. She pressed a hand on her upper arm when she still didn’t manage to assuage her fears. “Really, it’ll be okay. I’m sorry to have upset you.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I know, I know. It’ll be fine. I’m just being dramatic.”

She smiled sweetly. “If you need help just send me a smoke signal and I’ll come up with an emergency,” she winked. “You’ll be fine. Please introduce me to your boyfriend I have a few bedroom questions for him,” she wiggled her eyebrows at her suggestively once more and fortunately that did make her laugh as she waved and headed inside.

Alone with her thoughts she paced slightly in front of the entry way. She looked at the menu posted outside the door in hopes of distracting herself. Reading the different entrees didn’t help much; in fact, she strongly considered calling Harry she wasn’t feeling well. Then, he wouldn’t come to the club, and they could just go spend their date night at home instead. It wasn’t that she believed they were all in love with her, that wasn’t something her humble self could imagine. But what she did believe: it would be entirely cruel to Harry to make him suffer through an evening that she anticipated being a fun date night where she could show off how cute he was when other guys were supposedly looking at her longingly.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” she spun around and smiled at Harry approaching her much like the last time. “Y’really gonna be the death of me in this dress, kitten,” Harry said wrapping an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek in greeting. “Did y’have a nice day?” He asked scanning over her whole body. His smile grew as he looked her over. It was amazing he had no idea about the apparent tumult that was about to ensue if she walked in there.

“Yeah,” she said and her eyes also, shamelessly, scanned Harry up and down. “You look...” she sighed and her smile grew on her face by the second. “Maybe we will end up in the bathroom.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t make it hard fo’ me t’walk in there, love,” he murmured in her ear and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Let’s go show off this dress before I rip it off you.”

Harry wondered if she knew everyone was looking at her. Harry was introduced to every one of her coworkers and they nearly paid no mind to him at all as they took in her ethereal being. The only one that paid any attention to him was her female coworker that had no less than fifteen questions about the bedroom. He took each one in stride because it was his corner of the world and he loved sharing his knowledge and advice about how to make things better.

“Well now that we’re close Harry, what can you tell me about stimulating the g-spot?”

“Jesus Christ,” she said putting a hand over her eyes. “Why don’t you take his card,” she laughed. “I’m going to lose my mind,” she said.

Harry chuckled and smirked. “I like your questions,” he promised her. “They’re good ones,” he assured her. “Sounds like you have a healthy bedroom life,” he winked at her.

“I like him,” she whispered to the sweet girl in the beautiful dress but obviously Harry could hear. “Bring him any time,” she said and gave her arm a squeeze and mumbled something in her ear before she flitted away to start some other conversation. Harry didn’t pay much attention to whatever she mumbled.

“She’s fun,” Harry remarked as they headed toward the bar to get another drink. Harry liked the way she held his upper arm as they walked. He loved having her attached to his arm; he thought they must have looked like the classiest power couple.

Harry wasn’t with her because she was beautiful—there were so many other important reasons why he adored her. The fact she was beautiful was the icing on the cake. Getting to show her off as his girlfriend was one of his favorite past times.

Especially when he could show her off in front of most of her coworkers who he already despised.

He tried. Really tried. He showed up with an open mind—he didn’t think about the guy that called her love the entire ride over. He was going to be good; he wasn’t going to worry about anything like that while he was with her. The last thing Harry wanted was to embarrass her at work.

But the second the two entered the room he felt every pair of eyes gaze at the gorgeous girl at his side. Naturally, she had no idea. Harry was grateful for that because as he was ready to lose his mind, she gave his hand a squeeze as she thanked him for being there.

There wasn’t a world in which he wouldn’t do literally anything for her.

“Oh loads,” she rolled her eyes. “I think we’re going to have dinner soon, thank God.”

“Y’hungry, kitten?” He chuckled. She nodded silently, sighing dramatically. He smirked. “Well, d’you want t’find us some seats and I’ll grab the drinks?”

“Are you sure?” She asked her eyebrows pinched together with worry. Worry about what, Harry wasn’t sure.

He nodded. “I think I can manage a vodka cranberry and m’own drink.”

“And find our seats?” She wrinkled her nose cutely at her own joke.

“Might be tough. Might have t’actively think ‘bout breathing t’keep m’self going.”

She giggled. “Okay, thank you, Harry.”

“Anything for you, m’love,” he mumbled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. With a squeeze of his bicep, she released him to go find a pair of seats.

Harry knew it was a risk to let her go alone but he hoped as professionals they wouldn’t turn this evening into an issue...and they wouldn’t turn into vultures. As Harry turned with the two drinks in hand he practically knew they would be all over her. There the poor thing was guarding Harry’s seat beside her as if her life depended on it.

Of course, Harry couldn’t come storming in like an idiot. So, as much as he wanted to run to her side so he could protect her—even if she didn’t truly need protecting—he casually sauntered over. “Here, kitten,” he said softly and placed the drink over her shoulder.

“Oh, hi,” she said and while no one else heard it, it made Harry happy he heard the relief in her voice. Harry sat down beside her squeezing her shoulder as he sat down. Effortlessly, she reached for Harry’s hand once he was seated and squeezed once her fingers threaded through his. She began introducing everybody to Harry, who all nodded at him respectfully, but Harry could see the competition in their eyes. He didn’t like it. Harry knew there was no competition. But it still made all the blood run hot inside him. “This is my boyfriend, Harry,” she said finally.

“We thought she made you up,” one of them snickered.

Harry forced a smile and nodded. “M’very real,” he promised.

She gave his hand another tight squeeze. “Oh, thank God you got a seat across from me!” The only coworker of hers that Harry enjoyed: the lovely girl who asked tons of questions. Although Harry prayed she wouldn’t ask any of them right now. He knew that their minds would only be on one thing—and that was the gorgeous girl beside him. It was infuriating how much Harry loved that dress on her and now he wanted her to be wearing anything but that dress—and not in a fun way. She directed a smile at her and Harry could see out of the corner of his eye that she was clearly uncomfortable.

“I see you all met Harry, I told you he was real,” she rolled her eyes.

“She’s got no pictures of you, Harry,” one of them smirked. “She once made up this imaginary delivery...so we couldn’t be sure,” he explained.

“I found that delivery, thank you very much. I didn’t see any of you running around the building trying to match the picture,” she rolled her eyes as she sipped her drink.

Harry smirked and shook his head as he sipped his own drink. Less is more he thought to himself regarding talking to all of the guys that looked at him as if he was the enemy. She seemed to relax a bit as her grip on his hand lessened as the seconds ticked by. Everyone was engrossed in a story and the upcoming Monday Meeting, so Harry was able to enjoy the moment even though he still felt a bit on edge. Dinner was going to be served at any moment, so they all took seats around the table.

Harry couldn’t help but notice how close the guy beside her was sitting. Beneath the table Harry felt her knee bump against his and she whispered a sorry under her breath. He gave her hand a squeeze and took another sip of his drink. Harry and she made small talk and eventually he had to release her hand so he could eat. It nearly killed him.

“Any trips planned for your vacation?” Her friend asked as she brought a bite of salad to her mouth.

“We’re doing a weekend down by the coast,” Harry answered as she was in the middle of chewing. She pressed the napkin to her lips politely and she nodded.

“A wine tour and just a day by the beach will do me some good,” she smiled.

“Oh, how lovely,” she cooed.

“There’s a really good bookshop down by the hotel you’re staying at,” one of the guys across the table said. Harry felt his muscles tense knowing they all knew where they were staying. Of course, it wasn’t her fault. Harry wasn’t mad that she told him; that’s what coworkers did—they talked to each other. He just wished with everything in him that they didn’t think she was gorgeous the way he thought she was. “The missus really likes it, and I know you like books too,” he said kindly. Harry felt his muscles relax a bit—the missus, this guy was okay. Fine, Harry could eat his pasta in peace now.

“Amazing,” she grinned happily. “Just need a coffee shop and I’ll be good for the whole weekend,” she joked.

“M’sure they’ll have one,” Harry chuckled.

“It’s impressive how much coffee she can drink,” this time it was the guy to her right. “If she could do it with beer she could compete.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not that much.”

“It’s at least three cups. You’re constantly doing Starbucks runs,” the one beside his eyes.

She shrugged. “I like coffee.”

Harry chuckled. “I’ll get you a coffee maker like the one in m’office,” Harry suggested quietly.

“Office, huh? Are you an accountant as well? Is that how you both met?”

This time Harry saw her muscles tense. “Oh, no...er...we went to the same college,” Harry said. “I studied psychology...I’m a therapist,” he said breezily. The girl across from them took a gulp of her drink and eyed the table suspiciously. The poor thing beside Harry knew that he was keeping specific details away from the people she worked with, and she was so grateful Harry just knew that he should do that.

“Oh cool,” he responded. “My mom’s a therapist. What’s your specialty?”

Harry didn’t miss a beat, as if he had planned on answering. “I deal with people who struggle with their relationships mostly,” he said.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s one of the best things I’ve done with my life. S’very rewarding,” Harry said proudly.

They all seemed to nod in agreement. “Not like here,” one snorted. It was a joke, because financial business was obviously completely different than therapeutic business. This resulted in laughter and fortunately got them away from the topic for which she was so relieved.

“Harry’s nice,” the guy beside her whispered.

“Mm, he’s the best,” she answered softly as she continued eating.

“Lucky guy he is,” he murmured. She ignored the comment. She didn’t want to start anything. But Harry saw her cheek turn one shade pinker. Beneath the table he gave her leg a gentle squeeze.

They just had to get through dinner and dessert.

Unfortunately, dinner turned into several drinks before dessert was even a thought. While the conversation was carefree and no one seemed to be having the dick measuring competition her friend alluded to, it was obvious that her coworkers had too much to drink. They were loud, rowdy, and definitely over the top. Harry graciously took it in stride, draping his arm across the back of her chair so he could squeeze her shoulder every now and again.

The conversation ebbed and flowed between work and leisure activities. Harry actually went to the same gym as the one coworker he did like (the one with a missus) and they had a good laugh about something that had happened to one of the machines the week prior. Another coworker also shared their affinity for books and recommended some titles for Harry which he took down in his phone.

But it was just as dessert was finishing that the guy beside her became a bit too much. It felt like it happened in slow motion, his arm knocking the drink over into her lap causing her to stand up instinctively making her own drink spill on her as well. “Shit,” he hissed.

She gasped at the coldness, the liquid sadly seeping into the beautiful dress Harry loved so much. But of course, all pairs of eyes were on her pretty chest where the coldness made her nipples harden against the fabric of her dress. Harry felt his blood burn through his veins again as the stupidly drunk guy started dabbing his napkin against her dress. “It’s fine,” she said quickly trying to brush his hand away and Harry stood as well, pulling his suit coat off and around her shoulders because he wanted to hide her nipples as quickly as possible.

They were practically drooling over her, and it made him want to murder someone, probably someone at the table, specifically.

“I got it, thank you,” she said politely as he continued dabbing at her dress. While his brain must have been foggy with alcohol, it wasn’t his fault it was the center of her dress that was ruined. Harry was nearly steaming as his hands started drifting over her thigh. She flushed brightly as she shooed his hands away again and Harry couldn’t take it, he lightly pulled her toward him stepping away from their chairs. “Enough, mate, she’s fine,” he said grumpily.

“Oh no,” she heard it from her coworker across the table.

“He was just trying to help,” one said rolling his eyes drunkenly.

“Shut up,” the only taken man besides Harry hissed back.

Harry took a deep breath trying to keep collected when all he wanted to do was throw something at these idiots. “Help? He ruined her dress?”

“I think he did us all a favor,” one snorted quietly.

“Oh, God,” she whispered again from across the table taking another large gulp of the drink in front of her.

“Oh,” Harry said flatly wrapping his arm around her tightly, so the opened front of his coat wrapped snugly around her, too. “Why’s that?”

“Harry,” she whispered and turned her face toward his chest, but she couldn’t look up to meet his gaze because he was busy glaring at the rest of the table.

“You’re a lucky guy Harry,” the idiot said.

Harry didn’t respond—he knew he was lucky. He didn’t care if she walked around naked in front of everyone, he knew she was all his, but he did not like the way they ogled her as if she was just something to be desired. She was so much more than that.

“Let’s go,” she whispered to Harry.

“Oh, come on, love,” it was the voice from the phone call.

“Don’t call her love,” Harry snapped.

“Harry,” she whispered gently again. She felt horrible—so horrible.

“Please don’t go; m’sorry about your dress. You still look gorgeous in it—I’ll have it dry cleaned for you,” he said. “Take it off and I’ll bring it back for you—”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, something not good she was sure, but she ignored it and gave Harry a hard shove toward the door as she snagged her purse off the back of her chair. Harry released his hold around her shoulders and grabbed her hand as he fumed, leaving through the door. In heels it was nearly impossible to keep up with Harry. “Harry, slow down please,” she whispered. He slowed barely, pulling her to his car. He opened the passenger door and nearly shoved her inside.

“We’ll get your car tomorrow,” he grumbled and closed her door angrily as he stalked around to the other side.

“Harry, wait,” she pleaded as he shoved the key into the ignition angrily. He was still fuming and she didn’t want him to drive if he was this mad.

“M’fine,” he snapped.

She was silent. With her hands in her lap the only comfort she had was Harry’s smell from his jacket wrapped around her. He sped home, breathing heavily, her heart raced at how tense it felt in the small space of the car. It was so quiet she wanted to cry. She felt like it was her fault and her whole body felt achy with worry.

Once parked outside the building, Harry gripped his steering wheel with both hands and stared out the windshield into the dark as if he could see through the darkness.

Eventually, she couldn’t take the silence a moment longer and finally spoke. Wringing her hands together, nervously. “Harry, I’m sorry,” she whispered. He remained silent, didn’t even look at her, which worried her more. When she worried—especially about Harry—she tended to ramble. “I... I truly had no idea they liked me up until tonight. In fact, until four minutes before you showed up. I’m so sorry. I never would have put you in that position and it wasn’t fair to ask you to come. It was so nice of you to do it. They don’t act like that in the office, I promise. I don’t...” she shook her head, tears filling her vision. She knew it wasn’t really her fault, but it felt like it and Harry not talking made her feel worse. “If I knew—"

“Y’can’t leave me for one of them,” he muttered and glanced down at his lap before looking out the windshield again.

She released a small gasp processing the words as they made it to her ears. “W-what?” She whispered.

Closing his eyes like he was in pain, Harry sighed. “Someone called you love when I was on the phone with you the other day,” he explained. “Made me mad,” he muttered.

She the blush flood her cheeks. “But—”

“I know,” he said without having to hear her thought process. He already knew what she was going to say. “It doesn’t make sense,” he shook his head. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “Then...tonight. Obviously, I wouldn’t skip this for you,” he promised. “But...I couldn’t imagine you in this...” he finally turned to look at her and he scanned her up and down again. “I couldn’t imagine not being around you when y’looked so stunningly attractive,” he bit his lip. “They have every right t’think you’re beautiful—because you are, kitten. You’re...s’pretty. S’impossible to be rational. I can’t blame them for looking at you. For wanting me t’not exist. If I were them, I’d be jealous of me.”

“Harry,” she breathed. “But you are...you.”

He shrugged. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, kitten,” he repeated. "The devil doesn’t have anything on how temptin’ you are,” he smirked sadly. “S’not your fault,” he shook his head sighing again. “M’jus’... I’ve never been s’jealous in m’life,” he said looking back at his hands. She wanted to smooth out the wrinkle he made in his forehead. “I don’t like that other men know how beautiful y’are. I want t’keep you all t’m’self,” he murmured. “So...please don’t leave me for one of them,” he repeated.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“I know, I know, kitten. S’jus...” he sighed.

“Harry...I don’t think I could leave you for anyone,” she told him.

He smiled and turned to look at her. “M’sorry for acting like a jealous caveman.”

“They were out of line.”

“Doesn’t mean I needed t’act like that,” he shrugged. “I jus’ didn’t like the way they looked at you.”

She looked down at her stained dress, Harry’s coat draped around her, and she looked back toward Harry. “You have nothing to be jealous about,” she promised. “M’so in love with you...and...you’re the only one that can make me cum, obviously,” she reminded him.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “S’that the only reason y’keep me around?” He murmured. He sounded like he was kidding but she could hear the worry in his voice.

“There’s about a hundred other reasons before that, you silly goose,” she promised.

They sat in comfortable silence for another moment. “We better get y’inside and out of that dress,” he said quietly. She nodded in response.

Harry unclipped his seatbelt. “I hope that stain comes out,” he frowned. “You look extra beautiful every time I see you in it,” he reminded her.

She blushed and smiled as she turned from him bashfully unclipping her belt as well. “Thank you,” she said cutely. Harry gave her knee a squeeze.

“I also want y’out of your dress so I can make y’cum so hard y’would have ruined the dress anyway...They weren’t the only ones looking at your pretty little nipples when the drinks spilled on you,” he promised so easily it sent a shock of electricity all through the center of her body.

“Oh...oh...” she repeated herself dumbly as he came around to her side to help her out of the car. His eyes dipped down to the V of her dress and he watched as her nipples poked against the fabric once more. He smirked and brushed his thumbs over each one as he sighed. She moaned quietly.

“Better make sure m’the only one who continues t’make y’cum,” his voice was so warm and seductive it made her press her thighs together for some sort of relief. As he whispered across her cheeks and pressed his lips against hers, she felt every word he spoke surge through her body like an electric current. “Better do it, quick, too, huh, m’love?”

115 notes · View notes