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blissfulparker · 3 years ago

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Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee.

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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greypoth0ts · 3 years ago

Text

it was a pretty long day

T/W: MENTIONS OF PANIC/ANXIETY ATTACK/VOMITTING

Characters: Ushijima(who else) hehe

Note: Yes I am projecting again - these days I just want to dance to LANY with the person I love. :')

It was a pretty long day - you're so worn out from work.

Work was tough, your line of work has always been tough. Not only do you nurture kids, you nurture kids with special needs. On top of teaching, you deal with emotions, tantrums & melt downs. Good days are good. Bad days.. they'll take a toll on you.

Today was tougher on a different level. Chaos in the class. Kids screaming their head off, dealing with meltdown and toileting. Refusing to cooperate, didn't want to do their work. By 3pm you were already flat out exhausted. You just really wanted to call it a day.

You know that days like these are normal. Sometimes you take it in your stride. Sometimes you just let it weigh you down. Today.. today you finished work with anxiety and it almost went onto a full blown panic attack.

"goodbye! see you tomorrow!" you said to your colleagues. Getting out of work on time. Today was just too much to put up with.

Stepping out of school gates, you felt faint. Sick to your stomach even. You tried your best not to throw up. You kept walking until you reached your train station.

"I am leaving workplace now, going to reach home in 30 mins babe." you texted Ushy. It was a Tuesday. So Ushy does not have practice on Tuesdays. He's home, waiting for you to have dinner with him.

"ok babe, waiting for you. I made some steak. Safe journey home. :)" - Ushy replied your text almost immediately.

"I'm not feeling too good, I think work was too much today. I feel like I'm going to throw up" - you replied to Ushy.

You haven't had a panic attack in awhile now. It's been years. You've kept it controlled all these years and also, Ushy played a big part in keeping it controlled. He recognises the signs and immediately helps you to snap out of it when he sees it. He tries to never let you slip into it.

You try to hold it together, your stomach in knots. You really want to throw up but you don't want to be judged. You try to find one thing to focus on. But you just can't keep your focus. You keep walking, walking and walking. It's like even though your body wants to just sprawl on public floor, your muscle memory just kept bringing you through to the train station.

Ushy kept calling. But you left your phone on silent. You were too focused on trying to suppress the attack anyway. There was no way you would be able to string your words even if you picked up the phone.

Ushy at home - worried sick. He's seen you spiral before, it's not a pretty sight. It's a sight that he hates because he is so helpless. He hates seeing you in pain, even if you get a paper cut, he makes a big hoo ha about the small wound. Thats what you love about him. He cares, and he cares so deeply. Hence he made it a point to himself to learn your first signs of panic and stop it just in time before you spiral.

He's considering to come find you and meet you half way. He would've hated if anything happened to you. But he kept his cool. He knew that the best bet is to stay home, to wait for you. He kept pacing up and down the house, he kept calling you. He is imagining the worst scenarios in his head and was on the verge of tears. But Ushijima never gives up, he just kept calling in hopes that you will pick up soon.

You survived the walk to the train station in a piece. Now the peak hour crowed made it worst. Whatever you want to let out is already at the tip. You stopped in your tracks.

Closed your eyes, took a deep breath..... steadied yourself.. and entered the train.

"keep it together, keep it together, am not going to puke in the train" - you thought to yourself repeatedly in the train.

You clench your fist so hard they leave a mark. You were bursting in cold sweat. You tried to keep your focus but you couldn't.

As soon as you turn into your house - you see Ushy at the door, walking towards your direction. Even before you could greet him, you threw up all over the floor. And as he inches closer - you reached out your hand to him, in a way to stop him from coming closer because the vomit will get all over him.

But Ushy didn't give a shit. The person he loved the most was suffering, he wanted to be there to hold you no matter the circumstances.

And you did exactly what you didn't want to - you threw up on Ushy.

"it's okay love, I'm here now. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. Take all the time you need to puke, once you're done, we'll get you cleaned up." - Ushijima reassured you, with his hands on your back, patting you, hoping you feel better.

You couldn't even bring yourself to say sorry. You didn't even get a chance to. You're bent over, puking your guts out. Ushy could only pat your back and look on helplessly.

Once you're done, he took your bag, swung it on his back and princess carried you into the house. You felt better after puking your guts out but you were still in a daze.

He removed his shirt(cos you puked on him), revealing his perfectly chiseled abs. Ah, what a sight.

He then placed you gently on the sofa, went to the kitchen to take some anti nausea meds along with warm water in a flask. Bringing along some warm towels at the same time and cleaned you up.

"I'm sorry Ushy - you must be hungry and tired. But I've burdened you." - you trembled as you said this. Tears rolling down your cheeks.

You felt bad. On the day that Ushy could rest, he had to take care of you.

Gently, Ushy wiped away your tears and held you close to his chest.

"that's what I vowed to do for you - when I married you. was it not clear in my wedding vows? maybe I should rewrite to make it clearer for you." - his voice low, almost with no emotions.

You cackled. But Ushy was serious about this though. He does not understand why you're upset when you are not the issue. However, he fully understood that you had no control over your panic attacks and when he asked for your hand in marriage, he has vowed fiercely to love you and take care of you, whatever comes.

You couldn't help but feel like you're the luckiest girl to be loved by the Ushijima Wakatoshi. The ace of Japan, where he has all the girls swooning over him but he only has eyes for you. And here you are, lying on his chest. Sharing a home with him, and what a privilege it is to be loved by him.

"I am sorry - I will do better next time. I wasn't there to stop your panic attack this time round, but I will do my best.. to never let it happen again." - this took you by surprise. Why is he blaming himself over something the both of you have no control over?

You gently placed your hands on his face, thumbs circling his cheeks. "this was not your fault at all, please don't apologise. You've done so much for me. And I haven't had an attack in awhile now. Do you know why? It's all thanks to you. You always manage to detect it before I spiral. I can function almost at 90% because of you, Ushijima. Please don't ever think that you're not doing enough." - you assured him.

He nodded and kissed your forehead.

"you know what will make it all better?" - you asked Ushy.

He raised an eyebrow - "what is it, y/n? tell me and I will get it done."

"Put on my favourite album from LANY, let's dim the lights and slow dance.. it'll make me feel 100% better in no time."

"consider it done" - Ushy replied firmly.

youtube

He wasted no time in getting it done. Ushy dimmed the lights, lighted up your favourite scent of candle & put the music on.

"may I?" as he extended his arms.

"I would love to." you held onto his arms, standing up.

He held you close, your head on his chest. Feeling safe, secure and loved.

Enjoying this special moment that you both share. A love so deep.. the ocean is jealous.

reblogs & likes welcome! requests open :)

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hermannsthumb · 3 years ago

Note

"different young (rebound) hunk on his arm every week…newton geiszler who?" CAN YOU WRITE THIS FIC PLEASE? Hermann as the new heartthrob of the science world, cheekbones that can cut glass, baby gay scientists everywhere using appalling math-related pick-up lines in an attempt to be the booty call of the week. Newton catches a glimpse of him at a fundraiser and the Precursors have to stop him from crying with lust.

so tragically I plotted a whole fic for this and then came back and realized this prompt involves PRU but I liked my idea too much so unfortunately I won’t be filling the PRU part 😔 but I DO love heartthrob hermann sooooooooo. this can be pre-PRU if you want to make it sad actually CW for drinking and mild allusion to not sfw stuff. when will these boys talk about their feelings?

-------------------------------------------

Hermann doesn’t like going out to bars at the best of times, least of all after he’s had the sort of exceptionally long day he’s had today (fighting his way through airports and hotel lobbies, fielding interview questions, having not even a minute’s break from Newton), but even he will admit that the one Newton has dragged him along to tonight could be far worse. The sorts of bars Newton fancied throughout their stint at the Hong Kong Shatterdome tended to be far hipper, far more becoming for a man of his (and, admittedly, Hermann’s) age, and likely aimed at tourists: pounding music, dark rooms, neon lighting, overpriced drinks, an inability to navigate through throngs of dancing bodies without bumping into at least half a dozen people. For that reason Hermann’s blood practically ran cold earlier that evening when, fresh out of their latest television interview, Newton insisted that Hermann needed to unwind a little. That Newton would help him unwind a little.

Hermann was pleasantly surprised to find that though the music (a live band) is still loud, and drink prices are still inflated, at least he can see Newton, and at least the few people dancing are dancing far away from them. And, well, perhaps it’s made him more amenable to (mostly) matching Newton drink-for-drink, and to indulging him in knocking back not one, but two rounds of the most disgusting-looking pink shots of all time, and— “Look, dude,” Newton declares, tossing an arm around Hermann’s shoulder. He’s shouting and leaning in too-close to Hermann, not because he’s intoxicated, but rather to be heard over the band, which has launched into a rather enthusiastic cover of some song Hermann’s sure he’s heard blaring from Newton’s iTunes before. His stubble tickles the shell of Hermann’s ear. “Just say it with me. It’s that easy. R-e-t-i-r-e-m—”

“We are thirty-five,” Hermann says. “We can’t just—”

“We absolutely can,” Newton says. He nudges his cocktail glass into Hermann’s chest, sloshing a bit of hot pink Watermelon Crush on his neat button-up. Hermann stifles a sigh; the shirt is brand new, bought just that morning for the interview, and will already be needing a wash. And smelling like liquified hard candy for the rest of the evening. “You and me, lying on a beach somewhere, sleeping in until noon every day, learning how to—to fish, or paint, or whatever the hell we want—”

“Not a beach,” Hermann says immediately. “I’m bloody well sick of beaches. Oceans, lakes, bays—no more."

Indulging Newton’s ridiculous little fantasy, even for a moment, is a mistake: Newton’s face lights up in a grin, and he tucks his arm around Hermann’s shoulder to pull Hermann flush against him. Hermann’s barstool wobbles dangerously. “Okay, no beaches. Far away from any coastline. The mountains, then.” It’d be just their luck, Hermann thinks, if the next Breach reopened far away from the ocean, too. Like it followed them somehow. “Let’s move to Switzerland or something and buy a log cabin or a cave and become weird recluses. I’ll learn how to ski, and you can grow a beard, and we can buy all our furniture at Ikea—” He frowns. “Is Ikea from Switzerland? Sweden? I haven’t been since college.”

“I don’t recall ever agreeing to move anywhere with you in the first place,” Hermann says, “let alone retire to do so. What on earth makes you think I’d follow you to Switzerland? I’ve no interest whatsoever in Switzerland.”

“Uh, because we’re best friends?” Newton says. “Anyway, what else would you do?”

“Anything,” Hermann says. He begins to tick off all the possibilities on his fingers while Newton watches him, unimpressed. “I could stay in Hong Kong—I’m sure they’d appreciate help monitoring what remains of the Breach. Or I could move back to England and resume my old teaching post, if they’d have me.” Hermann knows they’d have him; they’ve already sent him at least a dozen emails practically begging him to accept tenure. “Or back to Germany, with my parents.”

“I could totally do all that, too,” Newton says. “Well—not the Germany thing. No offense, dude, but your parents kinda suck. I don’t think I want them as my roommates.”

Hermann decides not to mention that the odds are very high they would not want Newton as a roommate, either. He’s tempted to ask Newton if he meant what he said about them being best friends—for Hermann can’t recall the last time someone called him their best friend, if ever—but Newton’s arm is slipping from his shoulders, and Newton is pulling out his mobile phone and tapping away frantically at it. Hermann feels strangely bereft without his touch. “Okay,” Newton says, his eyes scanning the screen, “Ikea was founded in Sweden, but they moved headquarters in—”

“Excuse me?”

Hermann and Newton both startle, Newton nearly dropping his phone, and the bartender who’d interrupted them smiles apologetically. He’s holding a pint of what appears to be beer. “Sorry to bother you guys,” he says to them, “but this is from the young man over there in the pink shirt.”

At the sight of the drink Newton brightens and puffs out his chest visibly. Bloody perfect, Hermann thinks. Just want Newton needs—another boost to his ego. “No sweat,” Newton says. He tosses his mobile to the bar counter casually and reaches to accept the glass. “Please tell him I’m super flattered, but—”

“Actually, sir,” the bartender interrupts, and—to Hermann’s surprise—slides the glass away from Newton’s grasp and over to Hermann. Hermann takes it without a word, not quite daring to believe it. Down the bar, out of the corner of his eye, he can see the flash of a bright pink shirt, but he can’t quite make himself turn to acknowledge the mystery admirer. Is that rude of him? No one has ever sent him a drink before. He’s not quite sure of the etiquette. “It’s, um, not for you.”

Newton deflates like a popped balloon. A blush spreads across his cheeks, barely visible beneath his freckles, which have come out again in the spring sunlight now that they’re not spending all their time in the Shatterdome basement. Hermann likes the look of them; he thinks they’re sweet, and that if he traced his fingertip across them they’d make a pattern of some sort, like a constellation. Not that he ever would, of course. Newton would surely ridicule him. "Right, duh,” Newton says.

He waits until the bartender is gone to round on Hermann. “Dude!” he says, almost accusatory, “Fourth time this week!”

“It is not,” Hermann protests. It’s weak to his own ears: even he isn’t thick enough to miss the sudden influx of attention he’s gotten since their first television interview last month. Hermann was never exactly popular, never exactly the sort the drive people wild with lust or romantic longing, yet it seems as if he can’t go anywhere these days without turning a few heads (including mid-twentysomething heads, mortifyingly enough) and getting a few cellular numbers slipped into his hand. Yesterday, a young man on the metro asked Hermann if he might like to see a movie some time. The day before that, another man wearing a jean jacket full of enamel pins stepped up to Hermann in a Starbucks and asked him if he could call-cu-later. Last week, a starry-eyed college student stopped Hermann outside a hotel to ask him to sign his Calculus 3 textbook, excitedly telling Hermann he switched degrees to astrophysics not a few days prior after reading an interview with Hermann in a rather obscure pop science magazine, and had blushed when Hermann thanked him. Newton had laughed at that one, and advised the young man to give biology a shot instead. (Newton had gotten very cross when he was promptly ignored, and in referencing the incident later, rather bitterly called the student an annoying little punk.)

This is to say nothing, of course, of the multiple news articles (listicles, as Newton calls them) Newton has forced him to read about himself on something called Buzzfeed, which have apparently helped to cement Hermann’s fifteen minutes of fame. One was called Twelve Times Dr. Hermann Gottlieb Was A Fashion Icon and was accompanied with a rather embarrassing array of candid photos of Hermann. Newton has been particularly incensed over that one.

“It is,” Newton says. “At least third. You know, I think the worst part is that you’re not even getting laid. Dudes are throwing themselves at you left and right—”

“Am I meant to go home with any random stranger who shows me the briefest bit of attention?” Hermann snaps. “I like to think I have somewhat higher standards than that.” I’m not like you, he nearly adds, but decides that it might perhaps be too cruel, especially considering that Newton has not gotten a fraction of the attention Hermann has over the past month. He remembers what it used to be like in the Shatterdome, is all; Newton seemed to like anyone who would give him the time of day. Most of his romances didn’t fare well for that reason.

“I’m just saying you could, and you’re not,” Newton says.

Hermann taps his finger against the pint glass, watching bubbles release from the side and rise to the top. When he finally takes a sip, it makes him wrinkle his nose. He’s not usually much for drinking. “I don’t like IPAs,” he says.

“I’ll take it,” Newton says, and the corner of his mouth hitches up in a grin, “as long as your boyfriend won’t get offended.”

Considering that Newton has only just finished following up his two shots with a cocktail, Hermann questions the decision, but slides him the glass anyway. Newton starts on it at once. Hermann wonders if he’ll need to call them a rideshare back to their hotel tonight; he’s not sure he can manage guiding a intoxicated Newton through the streets of the city on foot, especially not after a day that’s been rather unkind on his hip. “Only I suppose I have trouble believing it,” Hermann admits.

“Believing what?” Newton says.

“That they’re genuinely interested,” Hermann says.

To Hermann’s surprise, Newton snorts. “Nah, dude. You’ve got—” He taps Hermann’s chest, and leaves his hand there. “—sex appeal. You’ve got the, like, soulful eyes, and the movie star eyelashes, and the cheekbones and—” He drags his fingertip along Hermann’s jaw, and Hermann masks his sharp flinch in a cough, hoping Newton can’t feel his face heating up. He doesn’t remember if Newton has ever touched his face before. It feels shockingly intimate. “People think it’s super hot.” He takes another sip of Hermann’s drink. "Plus, you’re so—like—uptight. It makes people wonder what you’re bottling up.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “Bottling up?”

“In a sexy way,” Newton clarifies.

He settles his hand back on Hermann’s chest. Hermann licks his lips. Has Newton wondered those sorts of things about him, too? “You’ve had—too much to drink,” he says.

“A little bit,” Newton agrees. “I’m right, though. I like this shirt, by the way, it’s a nice cut on you.” He toys with one of the shirt’s buttons, and when he speaks again it’s in a low voice that makes Hermann’s mouth feel strangely dry. Hermann has never heard it from him before. “Wanna go back to the hotel and rent a movie or something?”

He’s peering at Hermann through his eyelashes, smiling in an odd little way. How terribly close they are to each other, Hermann realizes. He can count every tiny scratch in Newton’s eyeglasses, every fleck of gold in his eyes, every freckle on his cheeks. He wonders if Newton really wants to rent a movie; he wonders what Newton would do if Hermann closed the inch between them, and... “I,” Hermann stammers, gaze fixed on Newton’s mouth (stained pinker from his drink), “er, yes, only—only I feel as if I ought to thank the gentleman who sent me—”

At once, Newton drops away from him. His face hardens. His smile hardens, too. “Oh, right. I forgot,” he says. He inclines his head down the bar. “Pink shirt, right?”

Hermann casts his eyes about, searching for the pink-shirted stranger. When he doesn’t immediately spot him, a small bubble of relief swells within him. Perhaps he left, perhaps he decided he’s not interested in Hermann after all, perhaps Hermann is free to go back to the hotel with Newton and watch a film and argue about retirement and… “Oh, there,” Newton says. A man catches Hermann’s eye and waves timidly. He’s wearing a pink button-up.

“Bugger,” Hermann mutters. His admirer is not unattractive—in fact, he’s the opposite, with curly hair and glasses even thicker than Newton’s—which Newton seems to notice, too. He claps Hermann on the shoulder, hard enough that Hermann sways with it.

“He’s totally cute,” Newton says, “and he’s totally into you. You gotta at least get his number.” He takes another large sip of Hermann’s drink. “Better yet, get yourself laid. You could use it.”

Hermann feels the oddest sense of whiplash. Just a minute prior, he was about to kiss Newton (and he was pretty sure Newton was going to kiss him back), and now Newton is practically throwing him at another man. Hermann does not want to get anyone’s phone number—he wants to fall asleep in his stiff hotel bed to some absolutely awful science-fiction movie Newton picks out. “Newton,” he says, “weren’t we going to—?”

“No biggie, we can do movie night tomorrow instead,” Newton says. He nudges Hermann’s calf with the toe of his boot, and holds out his cane to him. Hermann feels his heart begin to sink. “I won’t wait up for you. Just give me a heads up if he wants to go back to our place, and I’ll make sure to stay out longer.”

“I’m sure it’ll only take a moment,” Hermann says. He’ll make sure it only takes a moment.

“No biggie,” Newton repeats. He raises his glass to Hermann in a mock toast. “Good luck!”

When Hermann looks back over his shoulder, halfway to the man in the pink shirt, it’s to see Newton’s stool vacant, and the back of Newton’s leather jacket swishing out the bar doors.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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woolieshubris · 3 years ago

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Aquarium Date Fic !! Kagehina, but kag!asd. Kageyama pov. 2k words, oneshot. Tw : Sensory Overload! (it's present throughout the whole fic) Made partially for @spixi and partially so i could prove to myself that i can If there's a typo no there isnt <3 If you are an IRL this post doesn't exist <3

I typed out my message and pressed send, throwing my phone onto my bed.

Maybe I should go grab a snack or something... I think to myself, when I suddenly hear my phone buzzing against my pillow, and I dive to grab it. He replied to my message. That was fast.

Me : Hey we should go to the aquarium tomorrow.

Hinata : Okay :D sounds good 2 me!

Quickly, with my face quickly going beet red, I drop my phone and go to the kitchen to grab something to stuff my face with. I'm shaking, but as long as I walk quietly, I doubt my family will notice I'm even out of my room.

How should I reply? A thumbs up might be good, but it might be too cold. Any other reply is probably too much... Whatever. I'll go with the thumbs up.

I head back into my room and pick up my phone, typing a thumbs up emoji before covering my face again.

F/ck, I need to come up with something to wear, don't I..?

---

I arrive at the train station, feeling like I probably packed too much. I brought a backpack with an extra phone battery, 2 charging cables, (because Hinata has an apple phone,) and a bunch of snacks, as well as a water bottle.

Did I put on deodorant today??? I can't tell... If so, I'm probably already sweating through it. I start to feel sick to my stomach, but I don't have time to finish that thought when I spot Hinata walking in from a distance. He seems to be wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt, and suddenly I feel overdressed in my jeans.

"Hey! Don't worry, I already bought my train ticket. You ready to go?" He asked while walking up to me. He didn't bring as much as a backpack, and I'm suddenly relieved that I brought so much.

"Yeah. It's coming in 2 minutes. I half expected you to be late." I stated, before realizing what I said. Sh/t! That was rude, wasn't it? I have to be nicer. Ugh. Hinata punctures my worries with a laugh.

"I'm not late that often, am I?" He states. This makes me feel a little worse about my comment.

"Hm. Just often enough." I state, carefully picking my words. I can't backtrack now, but I can try to redirect my speech to seem less biting.

"You only say I'm late because of last time!" He keeps laughing, keeping the mood light. I wish I could speak as easily as him.

"And possibly the time before that?" I reply. This is probably what he wants me to say.

"Shhhhh. What matters is I got here on time AND I have my ticket ready. Don't worry, I also brought enough for the aquarium ticket too!" He states, smiling. His smile is adorable, almost cute enough to distract me from what he just said.

"Oh, I was planning on paying for that." I reply without thinking.

"Ehh? Do you owe me or something? Should I be asking you for money?"

"No, no. I just thought...?" I'm really confused now. I was the one who asked HIM out, right? He knows how these things usually go, right? Maybe he just doesn't know...

"By the way, where are the others? I thought they would have arrived by now."

The... others? What others? The team??? This is a date, right? Wait...

I DIDN'T TELL HIM. I DIDN'T TELL HIM THAT THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A DATE. F/CK.

"I didn't invite them." I respond, my subconscious taking care of what my brain is trying to catch up to.

"You really find them that annoying? I know Tsukki and Yamaguchi can be a bit much sometimes but...?" Confusion flashes across Hinata's face.

"I just wanted to hang out with you. Is that a crime?" I answered before my brain could filter out that last comment. It would be useful in getting him to stop pushing, but it's far too rude for a date. Not that Hinata knows that last part anyway. I wish I could take my words back.

"You should be honored that I said yes in the first place." Hinata teases, my face turning red.

If only he knew what he said yes to.

---

Hinata and I managed to keep from fighting on the 30 minute train ride, which was a feat in and of itself.

I can't ruin this date.

"Hey, Kageyama? It looks like there is a student discount, and it also seems like there is a discount for groups. What do you think would be cheaper?" Hinata elbowed me, bringing me back into focus. I look up. He and I are both equally sh/t at math.

"Uh... Let's do the group discount? I'll pay for it. You can pay me back later." As if I'd let him do that. Hinata bought my excuse though.

"Okay! I can buy you lunch or something." He quickly walked up to the desk, and I followed him. "Can we have 2 tickets?"

Wait. Wasn't I supposed to buy them? If I was the one paying, aren't I supposed to ask? Is Hinata planning on paying???

"Oh, sorry, He'll be paying!" Hinata stated, gesturing towards me.

"Yes. Here's the cash." I quickly press down the bills that were almost getting damp from stress. I had already looked online at ticket prices, and made sure to set aside the perfect amount of money for two tickets in my pockets.

"Great! Let's head inside!" Hinata grabs the tickets, holding mine for me. We go up to the metal detector and I get my bag checked. Hinata, possibly because he has my ticket, or possibly out of kindness, waits for me.

"Can you hand me my ticket real quick?" I ask, throwing my bag back onto my shoulder.

"Sure, let's go in." We walk into the main lobby area, waiting to get our tickets checked. The aquarium is beautiful, and oh so huge. The high ceilings, and smell of saltwater, the giant whale sculpture that I can only assume is life size, and the concrete flooring, these things that on a glance are grand, start to give me a pit in my stomach.

"Kageyama! Come on!"

I look at the horizon line, and recenter myself. A quick yet deep breath and I'm ready to go. I walk up, and turn in my ticket in order to get a wristband.

"Kageyama?" Hinata states, causing me to look over at him. "Can you help me put this on? I can never do it by myself." He holds up the paper slip.

"Yeah, sure." I say without thinking. I wrap it around his wrist.

"Hey, make sure not to make it too tight. They are a pain to get off if you don't give them enough breathing room." I nod my head, and make sure to give him a gap.

"There you go." I let go of his arm, realizing just then how warm my hand is. I can feel my face getting warm too.

"Okay, let me do you now." He quickly fits the bracelet to my arm. "It's perfect! Let's go inside. I wanna see this penguin exhibit that I've been hearing so much about. I keep seeing ads for it and I've wanted to see it forever-"

Hinata kept talking. I don't think he ever stopped talking. It's nice though. It makes it easier to not focus on the huge building, or the shifting lighting, or the crowds, or the ambient music that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Yup. I'm not focusing on any of that. Not. At. All.

My feet keep walking, despite my worrying. Hinata eventually slows, stopping before the largest piece of glass I've ever seen in my entire life. A giant tank filled with fish. The glass is taller than my house, longer than 3 busses, and blue and endless enough to make my heart stop in my chest.

F/ck.

Hinata turns around, and finds a bench to sit on, patting the seat next to him, while staring into the blue void. You feel like you have to bow down to its majesty. It is terrifyingly blue, terrifyingly enormous. I have never feared the ocean before, but I fear it in this very moment. A spotted whale shark swims past, paying no attention to the many people standing right against the glass.

"I could sit here forever." Hinata practically whispers. The giant tank orders your complete and utter silence. Even amongst a giant crowd, even with the littlest of children, everyone is quiet. The large speakers playing calming bass tones over the crowd of people, barely vibrating the floor.

"Hm. Me too." I reply. I could sit here forever, I feel like I already have sat here for infinity. Like its presence is something I could never escape. The pit in my stomach grows further. I break eye contact with the tank, reaching in my backpack. The zipper can barely be heard over the ambient noise of people shuffling. Was there always that sound? I bend down to look in my backpack. What was I going to get?

"Do you want a snack? I brought some granola bars." I state as I feel Hinata's eyes looking down at me.

"Actually, that sounds really good right now. I was just thinking about food." He states, bringing his head down to meet mine. I rustle around in my bag, and grab out a bar. It is barely bent. Passing it to him over my shoulder, he grabs it and unwraps it, sitting on the bench with his legs crossed.

"Sooo, what exhibit did you want to see?" He asks, taking a bite after.

"What do you mean?" I reply, choking down the pit in my stomach.

"Like... you invited me out here. So, what was it that you wanted to see?" He takes another bite.

"Uh. I just like fish, I guess." I look over at the tank, trying to avoid his gaze. I doubt he'll buy it, but it doesn't really matter.

"Me too! Let's go into the jellyfish room next? I can see the entrance to the penguins here and it looks packed. Explains why it's so much emptier here." He set his feet back on the ground and stood up, waiting for me to join him.

I leaned back down to zip up my bag, and we walked through a doorway into a smaller, darker room. Blacklights lit up the moon jellies as they calmly glided across the tank. Hinata seemed to drift off, but I didn't mind. It would probably be a good idea to be apart for a bit. I could calm down and collect myself quickly.

I walk up to the tiny seahorse exhibit, and look into the tank. I can't see them at all... I thought, when suddenly, I felt my forehead bump up against the glass.

How did I get close enough to bump up against it?

I go to look for a wall to lean up against. Leaning against something should help keep the pit down. I do a quick glance around the room. There are no walls. Only glass, and only fish. I hate fish.

Taking yet another deep and quick breath, I go back to meet up with Hinata. He was looking at a different kind of seahorse.

"Okay, I think I'm ready to go to the next section now." Hinata said, glancing away from the fish and over to the exit door. I nodded, and lightened up the scowl that was forming on my face. I didn't even notice it was happening until I felt my eyebrows aching from the effort. I just hope he didn’t notice.

The exit of the jellyfish room led to a balcony overlooking a lower floor. This must be the back of the aquarium. Below us there seemed to be a small cafe overlooking the sea.

"Here, let's go get some food! I can pay you back for the ticket that way." Hinata pulled my arm over to the down escalator. I step on right after him, and look down at the cafe.

It was very large, and honestly reminded me more of a cafeteria than a cafe, with lots of seating. After we reach the end of the escalator, he walked over to stand in line and stare at the menu. Looking for a good seat, I grab one right by the large window facing the water and set down my bag. I pull out the small amounts of snacks I've already brought to claim the seat and go over to Hinata.

"Hey, so I'm thinking about getting a sandwich. What do you want?" He stood, facing the menu.

"Honestly, just get me whatever you think I'd like." I state. I can't focus on the menu right now; I just don't have the energy to.

"Hmmm... Okay!" Hinata walks up to the register, while I go back to our seats. I'll probably regret that choice very soon, but I have backup food anyways, and I'm sure he'll eat whatever I don't, so it's not like the food will be wasted.

---

What the hell did he order??

I look at my plate, not quite understanding what the dish is even supposed to be.

"You said to get you whatever." He said with a smile, taking a bite of his sandwich right after.

"Whatever I might LIKE. What even is this?" I poked my dish with a spork, and it seemed to swallow it whole.

"No idea. I just pointed at the dish in the buffet." He shrugged. "I thought it might be funny, but it's less funny than I hoped. I expected more of a reaction." He looked up with the last sentence, making eye contact with me, which I broke a moment after.

"Sorry."

"Sorry? What are you saying sorry for? Since when did you say sorry anyways?" There was slight worry behind his voice, though it was hard to tell through his wide grin. To avoid answering, I quickly shove the food in my face. It's not great, but it's not really all that bad either. It's a little cold from sitting out.

"It's.... good." I say with a stuffed face. This causes him to start laughing again.

"You look super angry! That's the sort of reaction I was expecting." When did I even start scowling again? When I took a bite of the food, probably.

"You try it." I say, stealing a chip from his bag.

"I was the one who bought it anyway. I was half expecting you to make me eat it." Am I really that predictable? He took a bite, and made a variety of expressions, before settling on confusion.

"I wouldn't call it good. Maybe okay? It's definitely at least okay." He nodded to himself, taking a sip of water after.

"So, where to after this?" I ask.

---

We ended up on the train home while the sun was setting. It's almost to our stop. It felt so short, but we ended up hanging out for 5 hours. I almost forgot that I wanted it to be a date. I had to give up on that a while ago.

"Hey, we have to get off soon, get ready." I say, tapping his knee.

"Hm? Oh." He wakes up, blinking a few times and leaning forwards in his seat. He glances out the window.

The train stops, and we walk off onto the station platform.

"See you at practice tomorrow!" He says with a large smile, walking backwards towards the exit.

"See you." I reply, gripping the shoulder straps of my bag. I looked down

"I had a nice time on our date!" and with the last word, he turned around, running out of the station.

My head immediately turned upwards to where he was, as I feel my blood starting to rush to my face.

He... HE KNEW?!?

#dont mind me constantly changing the tense #im terrible w word tense

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vintagedolan · 3 years ago

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hiraeth part five - hoaloha

masterlist | request the next concept!

“You seem miserable.”

“I am miserable.”

“Then just come home.”

“Kahua you know I can’t.”

He looked tanner over FaceTime. Or maybe she was just used to seeing more white people. She couldn’t really tell, but she caught herself staring at him as he rambled on, voice deep and strong.

She missed him. She missed home. It felt like her LA plan had turned into some sick joke, and she was patiently awaiting the cameras to appear and reveal it all.

At the top of her phone screen, a message appeared.

Tell me three things you like to do

Koa stared at her phone for a moment, chewing on her lip. It was the first non-work related text she’d gotten from him. Against her will, it raised her spirits a bit.

why?

Because we don’t know anything about you :(

If it wasn’t Ethan texting her, she wouldn’t have even responded. But she knew he was trying to make up for his brother’s shitty behavior, and in the day that she’d had to calm down and talk it out with Harlow, she’d realized she’d probably overreacted a bit more than she needed to. So, she answered as nicely as she could.

writing, surfing, existing, idk

“Bro, who are you texting?”

“No one.” It caught her off guard that she didn’t immediately tell him.

YOU CAN SURF?!

She must have smiled, because Kahua huffed. “Yeah, sure looks like no one.”

We’re picking you up in the morning at 7. Considering it team building

I’m from Hawaii dumbass of course I can surf

I don’t have a board though

Grayson has an extra

if you show up at 7 you better have coffee in that car

deal

She sent her address, having to rack her brain to remember the area code.

“Hello? Earth to Koa?”

“Sorry, it was Ethan. He wants to go surfing tomorrow. ‘Team bonding’ he says.”

Kahua frowned. “Why do you need to bond to write a book?”

“He’s just trying to get me back on his good side,” Koa muttered, and she regretted her words when she saw him stiffen. He was protective of her - to a fault.

“And what the fuck did he do to get on your bad side?”

“Nothing! Ethan’s a good guy, he’s just trying to cover his brother’s ass.”

“Okay, the what the fuck did his brother do to get on your bad side?”

The anger wasn’t lost on her. In her head she saw Grayson, his wide smile, the disappointment in his eyes when she’d stormed out.

“He didn’t really do anything. I overreacted.”

“Doubtful.”

“No really, he was just trying to be nice, I took it the wrong way, but he got the message.”

“Did he hit on you?”

She froze. “Huh?”

“You heard me.” His voice was more aggressive than she was used to - it made her uneasy.

“Uh no, he didn’t. He offered me a car actually.”

“He what?!”

“To borrow! Just to borrow, while I’m here.”

“Oh cause that makes it better,” he rolled his eyes. That unease came back into Koa’s stomach - she didn’t know this version of her best friend very well. It felt like a stranger on the screen.

“Alright hoaloha, I gotta go to bed, it’s late here.”

His own attitude seemed to register, and he frowned for a moment before he sighed.

“Yeah, I get you. Goodnight Koa. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

She wished she could sleep, but her mind raced even with her eyes squeezed shut. She even tried to bargain with herself - surely if she just kept her eyes closed, she’d fall asleep.

But the clock read 2, then 3, then 4, and she wasn’t even sure if she actually fell asleep before it was time for her to get up and get ready to surf.

She didn’t have the energy to put any effort into her outfit. It didn’t matter anyways... who was she trying to impress? She grabbed the first bathing suit her fingers touched and put it on, throwing her up in a bun and grabbing a towel, her wetsuit and a cup of coffee on the way out the door.

The twins were outside. She wouldn’t have known it was them if there weren’t 3 boards strapped to the top of the jeep. The windows were tinted enough that she didn’t know who was driving until she got in.

Grayson turned around from the passenger seat with a cup of coffee in his hands, face falling to a frown when he saw that she already had one.

He’d brewed two pots, since the first one was too bitter on his taste test.

“You underestimate me,” she teased, reaching out and taking it from him. It was still warm.

“Double fisting the caffeine, I like it I like it,” Ethan grinned, pulling out of the spot and heading for the beach.

“Hopefully the beach won’t be crowded so we don’t run into anyone on the swells,” Grayson mused just to fill the silence.

“If you’re good, you don’t hit people,” Koa said between sips, watching the palm trees fly by the window. The car was warm, cozy in a way as the sun began to rise over the ocean. It was no Hawaiian sunrise, but it would do for now.

He didn’t say much after that until they got to the beach. Ethan made small talk where he could, and Koa wasn’t unaware of Grayson’s eyes on her while she shimmied into her wetsuit.

“Need help zipping up?” He offered - his cheeks were bright red in an almost boyish way.

She could reach the long string and do it herself, but she let him as a sign of good faith, grateful that he brushed her stray hairs away from the velcro so it didn’t get trapped and stuck.

Koa returned the favor for him when he turned around. It took some tugging to get the neoprene to stretch over his wide back. She lingered for a moment as she took in his tattoo; three lions resting together, two young and one old, with the words above and below - others came before me, others to come. It made her pause for a moment, trying to understand. From what she knew of Grayson, it didn’t fit him, his personality, his arrogance.

But did she really know him at all?

“Is it stuck?” His voice pulled her out of her inner monologue, and it was her turn to blush.

“Yeah, sorry, hold on,” she lied, giving it an overdramatic tug and tapping his shoulder to let him know she was done before taking her board from Ethan and heading down the sand. The water was chilly, but she adjusted quickly, starting to paddle as soon as she could. The boys kept up with her well, which didn’t surprise her based on their biceps.

The separation came when the first swell came in. Koa surveyed it, eyes poignant to what was coming. When she recognized the way the water moved, she immediately turned and began to paddle. Three strokes and she should snag it.

Sure enough, the timing landed just right and she pushed up onto her board the way Amosa had taught her when she was three; press, tuck and push. The wave caught her in its grasp and pushed her forward, exhilaration pumping through every vein.

And on top of that board, headed towards the shore, she felt at home.

And in her ears, she heard Grayson.

Or Ethan. She wasn’t sure, but one or both of them were yelling behind her, cheering her on as she continued across the swell, steady and triumphant.

Grayson couldn’t look away. It sounded dumb, even in his head, but she looked majestic. He couldn’t think of another word for her as she floated across, as stable as if she was walking down the sidewalk. It made him gasp when she bailed to the side and tucked under the wave, but even that was graceful.

It took her a minute to get back to them, but the boys were still cheering. Ethan didn’t hesitate to pull her towards him, giving her a hug with wide eyes.

“You gotta teach us how to do that bro.”

“It’s all in the timing,” she explained, and then she was talking. Technique, and strategy and watching for the right ones, how to bail - everything she knew.

Grayson couldn’t get enough of hearing her talk, more animated than he’d ever heard her as she straddled her board and bobbed up and down in the waves.

“Help me catch one,” Ethan begged. She obliged him, watching closely as the next set rolled in.

“When I say it, no fucking around or you’ll miss it,” she reminded him. She saw one coming in quickly, gauged it in the same moment and began her instructions.

“Okay, go, go go go, now, up now!”

To his own amazement, Ethan caught it at the perfect time, feet getting underneath him more solidly than they ever had. He didn’t last as long as he hoped - it was no longboard, but still, he managed to ride it for a good 10 seconds before he bailed to the side. Grayson jeered at him with a smile, watching him bob back up and struggle to get back on his board to paddle out. He thought he could hear people cheering from the shore, and he hoped for a moment they hadn’t been recognized.

“My turn,” Grayson grinned, the butterflies in his stomach a product of Koa’s proximity or the waves, he couldn’t tell.

But when he turned, she was swimming away from him as fast as she could, desperate to get away from him it seemed.

The hurt came first, and then it was immediately replaced by panic. He put the pieces together quickly.

A woman yelling from the sand, running towards the water. Koa, barreling as fast as her arms could take her in the same direction.

And a small dot of pink, barely visible above the waves.

“That’s a kid, fuck, thats a KID!”

He swam as fast as he could, Ethan blindly following. But they were no match for Koa’s many years in the waves. She swam as fast as her board would take her, only slowing enough to ensure she didn’t hit the little girl. She was gasping, her blonde hair down over her forehead.

As gently as she could without wasting any time, Koa grabbed her and hauled her up onto the board, breathing for the first time when she realized the girl was okay.

“Hi sweetheart, are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s your name?” Koa brushed her hair back just as Grayson got there on his own board, panting.

“I’m Alice. I want my mommy,” she cried, shivering as she laid on the board.

“It’s okay baby, my name is Koa. I’m gonna help you get back to mommy, okay?”

But when Koa began to move, Alice cried louder, scrambling towards her and almost tipping the board.

“No, no the waves are too big! They’re gonna get us!” she whimpered, looking towards the shore. All of them could tell she was terrified, and Koa put on her most convincing smile.

“I know it! They’re pretty big, but guess what?”

“What?”

“Your mommy sent me to help because I have a special board, and it never tips over, no matter what. So we’ll be extra safe. And these guys are gonna follow us and make sure no waves get us, okay? We’ll be back to mommy so fast.”

She couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7, and Koa was glad. Children still trusted people. And Alice trusted her, her small hands grabbing onto the board as Koa began to kick them in with the boys following behind.

Ethan watched it happen, like the petals of a rose opening up for the first time in spring.

Grayson was melting. All it took was seeing her once in that light and he knew the reason why he’d sat outside of Monty’s, why he was willing to let her borrow the car, why it bothered him so much that she wanted nothing to do with him.

He watched her scoop Alice up and carry her to her mother, watched her accept the hug the little girl gave her in gratitude, and he knew that there was something about the stupid book deal, and Ethan being stubborn and her coming all the way from Hawaii that was meant to happen.

There was no going back from it.

It was done.

When Koa turned to look at him, she couldn’t read the emotion in his eyes. So she just looked; held his gaze and quirked her head a bit when it didn’t falter.

“What?”

“You just saved that kid’s life,” he said. “You’re incredible.”

“Eh, it’s no big deal, had to scoop up some cousins back home at least once a week.” She blew it off, but she blushed anyways.

“Says the hero. C’mon, I think that’s enough ocean for the day, let’s go get breakfast or something,” Ethan jumped in.

“You just don’t wanna let Grayson catch a wave,” Koa teased, nudging his shoulder. He bumped her back and Grayson watched with a smile as they all headed back up towards the car - he couldn’t care less about the waves he was leaving behind.

They got cleaned up and out of their wetsuits, and the best feeling came when Ethan tossed Grayson his keys and climbed into the back of the jeep over the frame, a silent push for Grayson to keep his momentum as Koa climbed into the passenger seat.

“Alright hero, what’s for breakfast?” He turned to her with a grin.

“Hmmm... bagels.”

“Bagels it is.”

#yes I am still pretending that ethan has the jeep okay ITS FINE LET ME LIVE #this was a good distraction #thanks for being patient :')#hiraeth

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dreamypeaches · 4 years ago

Text

don’t wake up pt. 6 | rafe cameron x reader

summary: after the night at the kegger, you and rafe tend to your broken hearts

warnings: alcohol use, cursing, drug mention, angst

word count: 3.9k

a/n: okay, so, i know i said this would be the last part, but it was getting so long and I had a great stopping point so there will be one more part after this. enjoy :)

series masterlist

Heartbreak is not a physical sickness, but it can consume a mind like nothing else. As you lay in your bed, your mind constantly filters through every moment, every word, every touch over the course of your relationship with Rafe, trying to figure out if there was something more you could have done. It had only been about two months, but love can feel like a lifetime. And you could very safely say that you were in love with Rafe Cameron, even if he did break your heart.

Three days had passed since the Kegger and you had yet to leave you and your sister’s shared room. It was pathetic really, laying there in silence staring at the wall. You had at least two playlists that you used when you were sad, but even music reminded you of Rafe now. He had called, texted, left voicemails, but you refused to even read or listen to them. It was too much right now.

The Pogues had tried to console you, comfort you in anyway they could but you could hear their thoughts beneath the soothing tone of their voices. That’s what you get when you date a Kook. Especially Rafe Cameron.

Your sisters tried to comfort you too, to the best of their ability, but they were both busy with work, so most of your days were spent with your nephews and niece. Your niece, Jones, was the oldest, five years old and acted more mature than she should, but that was how it was on the Cut. She could tell something was wrong, and cuddled with you on the couch while the four of you watched Disney movies on repeat. You had called into work, not wanting to face anything for the rest of time.

It was lunch time, you were busy in the kitchen making sandwiches for the little ones. There was a knock at the door and all three of the children raced and wrestled each other to be the first to open it. You heard someone talking, but couldn’t make it out.

“Aunt Y/N, there’s a boy here,” Jones appeared at your side with a concerned look on her face, “and he looks like a Kook.”

You dropped the knife you were using to cut the sandwich, a quiet bang echoing through the kitchen. There was only one Kook who would show up at your door. You took Jones’ outstretched hand. She led you to the door where your two and three year old nephews were glaring up at the man standing there, the older one punching him in the leg. They learned early not to trust a Kook.

“Kelce?” You asked, furrowing your brows at the Kook in your doorway. He was grinning down at your attacking nephew, but the grin faded at the sound of your voice. He looked suddenly solemn, giving you a weak smile. You noticed a small box in his hands but couldn’t make out what was inside

“Can we talk?” You nodded, prying your nephew from Kelce’s leg and urging them inside and back to the living room. You turned back to Kelce who looked so out of place you almost laughed. Crossing your arms across your chest, you surveyed Kelce, waiting for him to say something.

Rafe had always spoken highly of Kelce, the nicer of his two friends. Before you had dated Rafe, Kelce had always been the Kook you were least intimidated by. Sure, he was still a dick to your friends, but you had never seen him throw a punch or heard him shout some horrible name at you. So you were ready to hear him out. If it had been Topper, you would have let your nephews bite his leg off.

“You need to talk to Rafe,” He said. You scoffed.

“I don’t need to do shit.”

“Please, Y/N! I know he hurt you and he does too. I’m not saying you need to forgive him but at least listen to him. He’s a mess. I’ve known him my whole life and he’s been bad before but this time…” Kelce trailed off, looking down at his feet and shaking his head.

“Just call him, please. You don’t even have to talk, just listen to what he has to say.”

“Did he send you?” You questioned.

“No, I’m just here as his best friend. He fucked up, bad, but he loves you.” You scoffed again. Kelce held out the box to you and you took it hesitantly,

“I found him this morning, passed out drunk. He’d been holding these. I thought you should see.”

He gave you one last nod and turned, walking down the path to his car.

You waited until he had driven away to go back into the house. Returning to the kitchen, you set the box down on the counter. You looked up at your niece and nephews, who were happily eating their sandwiches and watching PJ Masks. You looked back at the box and took a deep breath, having absolutely no idea what you would find inside.

A sob worked it’s way up your throat as you removed the lid to find a rainbow of scattered sticky notes filling it up. You recognized your doodles and handwriting covering them and slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your cries, not wanting to disturb the kids.

After your first night with Rafe, it became a habit to leave the notes for him. You felt bad sneaking away in the morning, leaving him all alone after the night you had. They were stupid, just something to remind him of you. You hadn’t known it then, but you were already falling hard for him. You had no idea he had kept them. Every. Single. One.

Jones suddenly appeared at your side, staring up at you with a worried look.

“I’m okay, sweetie, don’t worry,” You said, smoothing a hand over her hair. She wrapped her arms around your waist and smashed her face against your side. You accepted the little girls comfort gladly, holding her close to you with one hand while the other sifted through the notes. After the last time you saw Rafe, you had been sure your feelings had been unrequited. How could he do that to you if he really did feel the same? But now, you weren’t so sure.

The moment your older sister got home, you retreated to your room with the box. You looked through every note, picturing Rafe as you did. You thought of how the morning light filtered in through the window, illuminating his bare back. The peaceful look on his face as you sneaked through the door. Then you remembered another Rafe, a Rafe who was already awake by the time you were. An arm thrown around you waist, a sleepy smile on his lips, hair sticking out every which way. Good morning, Angel. A deep and consuming kiss on your lips.

Tears were still silently pooling at the corners of your eyes as you opened your phone, finally opening your text conversation with Rafe.

I’m so sorry, Angel

Please answer me. I fucked up.

Is JJ okay?

Please, Angel, I need to hear your voice.

Y/N, I know I fucked up but please just answer me.

Are you okay?

Please. I need you to know something.

Please answer your phone

The waiting tears spilled out as you read through the several texts he had sent over the past few days. Taking a deep breath, you tapped on his name and held the phone up to your ear. He answered almost immediately.

“Y/N!” His voice was deep and scratchy and desperate. You wanted to reach through the phone and give him a hug.

“Angel, please say something, I need to hear your voice.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, half of you wanting the end the call and through your phone in the ocean. The other half wanted to drive down to Figure 8 and hold him in your arms.

“Just say what you need to say, Rafe.”

You hear him sigh, half relieved half terrified. Then he starts crying

“I-I’m so sorry. I fucked up so bad and I hurt you, and I can’t forgive myself. You shouldn’t forgive me either. I know Kelce came to see you and showed that box. I hope it helps you realize how much you mean to me because…fuck…you mean the world to me Y/N. You may not think so because of what happened the other night, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Before you found me on the beach I though I would never be happy. That I didn’t fucking deserve to be happy. But you changed that. You loved me so much that I had to believe I could be loved. ‘Cause if someone like you loves someone like me,” He laughs and you choke back a sob, “than I must be pretty great.”

You barely hear him over the sound of your own sobs. Trying to picture him here, right in front of you, you see a dumb smile on his face. That dumb, dopey smile that always appears when your with him. He’s giving you that look. That look he gave you that night at the beach and again that night in the kitchen and again and again every day after. That sparks sits in his voice as he speaks, willing you to understand that it was still there.

“I love you, angel. I fell in love with you under the stars and fell into an endless hole because I will never stop falling. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I just needed you to know that I am in love with you. I couldn’t go another minute without telling you. What I did was terrible and you should hate me for it. But if I can get even an ounce of your forgiveness, that would be enough.”

Your sobs were still coming, but had decreased in the harshness. You could hear Rafe breathing on the other side of the phone, interrupted every now and again by sniffling. With scotch tape and white glue, your heart was slowly being put back together. It was messy and fragile, but it was a heart nonetheless, put back together by Rafe’s shaking hands and words of love. Taking a deep breath, calming yourself down enough to speak.

“Rafe.” You hear him let out a breath of air.

“Y/N…” Your name is like a prayer

“I love you completely. But you fucked up and you hurt me so…I’m going to need some time.”

Silence. Sniff.

“Okay, angel, whatever you need.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up the phone and throw it to the edge of your bed. Emotions wash over you like a wave, pulling you under and pummeling you against the current. You let out a final sob as you sink into your bed, snuggling into the pillow that quickly became soaked with your tears. The bedroom door creaks open and tiny feet creep in. Jones stands in front of you dressed in her pajamas and clutching her stuffy.

“Do you need a hug?” She asks. You nod vigorously and open your arms to welcome the girl. Her arms circle your torso and squeeze you as hard as five year old can. Giving her a kiss on the head, you hold your niece tight and try to ease your recovering heart.

Jones falls asleep quickly. Laying there, you stare up at the ceiling where glow in the dark stars sill lingered from when you were a child. Rafe runs through your mind like a wild fire, igniting every thought that wasn’t about him. Decisions race through your mind behind it, flashing through quickly, but only one stands out.

You detach from Jones’ Koala like grip and grab your phone.

To: Sarah Cameron

I need your help.

To say Rafe missed you was an understatement. His life felt different without you, empty. He was so used to you being there everyday. A call, a text, a kiss away. No longer having that luxury made his heart ache. The only thing getting him through the day now was the possibility that he would have another chance.

After your phone call a couple days before, he had clung to the notion like it was the only thing that kept his head above water. You still loved him. You just needed time. Time. Rafe hated time, the cruel bitch. But he would give you it. He’d give you anything.

As Midsummer grew closer, Rafe felt the ache in his heart grow and grow into a numbing pain. That was supposed to be your night. Everyone would know that Rafe Cameron was the luckiest man on Earth. He would sweep you off your feet and tell you he loved you like it was a god damn fairy tale. If only he hadn’t fucked it all up. If only he hadn’t turned to drugs. If only his dad wasn’t a dick. If only he could control his anger. If only.

“Maybank.” Rafe walks up to where the three male Pogues stand on the dock. JJ’s face is black and blue, one lip split, an eye swollen almost shut. Rafe somehow looks worse than him. Dark bags under his eyes and eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and crying. You still hadn’t called him.

“Fuck off.” JJ spits.

“I’m sorry.” JJ is suddenly convinced Rafe killed him that night. This couldn’t be real.

“About your face I- um - it was uncalled for and…uh…yeah, sorry.”

JJ laughs suddenly, his one good eye glaring.

“Are you fucking serious? You come over to apologize so I can put in a good word with Y/N, is that it? So you can break her heart again?”

Rafe flinches at the malice in his words, dropping his head to look at his feet.

“No, actually, I would prefer if you didn’t tell her I came. I just wanted to try and make things right. I also just need to know…is she okay?”

Despite the colors painting his face, making it unrecognizable, the hate on JJ’s face was evident. The other Pogues noticed JJ steaming and pushed him back, whispering something to him. Pope stepped forward, a similar look of hate in his eyes, but his exterior was cooler.

“No, she’s not. For some reason, she really liked you. She’d been so happy these past couple months and we had no idea why. Now, she’s the saddest we’ve ever seen her and we know exactly why. The only reason I won’t let JJ smash your face in is because we don’t want to upset her even more. Just leave us alone. Leave her alone.”

With that, the boy stepped back into the boat and floated away.

He should have listened to Pope’s words and left you alone. But you had called him and he couldn’t stop himself from pouring his heart out to you. Every word he’d wanted to say spilled from him, just the sound of your voice being the last crack in the dam before it broke. Rafe was selfish and in love with you and he didn’t know what he would do if he lost you completely. So he would wait as long as you needed him to, even if it meant waiting forever.

But as he woke up the morning of Midsummers, the fact that you weren’t beside him tore him to pieces. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to move from his bed, not when this was supposed to be the day that he showed you just how much he loved you.

He woke up late, only pulling himself out of his bed when Wheezie came in, jumping on him while saying he needed to start getting ready. He showered and slinked into his closet, trying not to look at the dress bag hanging beside his suit as he changed.

He’d spent so much time picking out the perfect dress for you, agonizing over every piece of fabric he came across because it had to be absolutely perfect. He’d even gone as far as to ask Sarah for help, being extra careful not to let her know who he was buying it for, and he would be forever grateful to her for it. She helped him find the perfect dress, it was almost like she knew it was for you. Simple and but beautiful, not too flashy because he knew you hated that. But, as much as he loved the dress, he had been more excited to get it off of you and reveal the matching lingerie set he had bought underneath.

Rafe pulled his suit on and staggered down stairs to find Topper and Kelce waiting for him, passing him a flask as he approached. He saw Sarah, John B, and Kie outside by the pool, the Pogues looking uncomfortable in their formal wear.

“You alright, man?” Kelce asked slapping him on the shoulder. Rafe just nodded, taking another swig from the flask.

“Forget about that Pogue for the night. Have fun, get shitfaced. There will be plenty of girls willing to help you get your mind off things, if you know what I mean,” Topper said with a smirk.

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Her name is Y/N, Topper. Not ‘that Pogue’ and I don’t want to forget about her,” Rafe snapped. Topper held is hands up in defense, taking the flask from Rafe’s hand and taking a large gulp.

“Whatever, dude,” He said, putting an end to the conversation.

By the time they make it to the club, however, Rafe is ready to drown his sorrows in booze and coke. His mind is adamant on torturing him with images of what could have been. He imagines you by his side as you walk up to the door, arm wrapped around his own. Before you walked in, he would lean down and kiss your cheek, whisper to you about how beautiful you looked. You would blush and tell him to shut up, but he wouldn’t. He would have worshipped you the entire night (and every day after).

As the group is about to enter, Sarah grabs his arm and pulls him back, allowing the others to on ahead.

“Can you just wait here moment?” She asks.

“Why?”

“Just do it! I promise, you won’t regret it.” And with that, Sarah turns and hurries after her friends. Rafe huffs in annoyance, fingers tapping against his leg as the need for some sort of substance grows stronger and stronger. He’s about to turn and go inside and drink himself silly, but is suddenly frozen to the spot.

“Rafe.”

Had he woken up this morning? Was he still laying in his bed wasting his life away? There was no way this was real. He turns and your image only adds to his belief that this was a dream. The orange light of the sunset surrounds you, adding to the already heavenly glow that follows you everywhere. You’re wearing the dress he had bought you and you look a million times more beautiful than in his dreams. A crown of daisies sits atop your head like a halo. Rafe had always called you angel, because that’s what you were. An angel that walked the Earth and graced him with your presence. That nickname had never been more perfect than in this moment, because Rafe was sure he had died and gone to heaven.

“Y/N,” He stumbles towards you, hands reaching out hesitantly. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, touch you in anyway he could. Deprived of your touch for so long, he craved it more than any drug. But he doesn’t want to overstep. You’re here, but he doesn’t know how close you really are, how close you want to be. He let’s you make the first move and he doesn’t have to wait long.

You hand moves to his cheek and cups it, thumb stroking across his cheek bone as you smile up at him. He covers it with his own hand, grasping on and allowing himself to believe that this is real. You stand like that for a moment, off to the side of the walkway to the club. People glance and whisper, wondering who that girl is with Rafe Cameron, but neither of you gave two shits.

Tears begin to well up in Rafe’s eyes as it sets in that you are here and you’re smiling at him and touching him and the dawning realization that he hadn’t lost you overwhelms him. Your other hand cups the other side of his face, pulling him closer to you. He collapses into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you into his chest. His grip is firm, refusing to let you go ever again. Burying his face in your neck, he speaks a mantra, hoping that it sinks through your skin and lets you feel every ounce of his apology.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” He repeats over and over again until you shush him, running your fingers through your hair and planting a light kiss below his ear.

“I know, baby,” You pull away, holding his face again and looking into his eyes, “I’m still working on forgiving you, but I want to be with you. We have a lot of shit to work through, but we’ll work through it together, okay?”

Rafe takes a deep breath, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He nods and you smile at him and kiss his cheek.

“Tonight, though, I just want to be with you. I’ve missed you like crazy. And I believe someone promised me an incredible night. Which means no crying,” You say, wiping away your own tears. Rafe grins at you, extending a hand to aid you. It’s your turn to soak op his touch. You lean into it, missing the comforting warmth of his palm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rafe says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Just what I said! I was promised a wonderful night and I am not going to pass it up! I asked Sarah for help and told me about the dress and stole it from you. She helped me do my make up and hair and whatever and now I’m here.”

Rafe grasps your head between his hands, holding you like you were made of glass. The gaze he has on you is filled with so much love and joy and pure adoration that your stomach begins to flip.

“You’re here. And you’re so fucking beautiful.”

A few seconds of gazing at each other, taking in every inch of the other’s face, passes before you speak.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

The hesitancy from earlier vanishes as Rafe pulls you into a breathtaking kiss. It’s wild and messy loving, just like Rafe. He literally sweeps you off your feet, his arms rapping around your body to lift you, pulling away as he sets you down.

Rafe feels his heart soar. None of his dreams could ever compare to the euphoria he felt, nor any drug. For the first time, he looks into her eyes and speaks the words, “I love you.”

And for the first time, with a smile on your face, you speak the words back, “I love you too.”

taglist: @teenwaywardasgardian @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obxmxybxnk @butgilinsky @juliarose21 @bluesiderudy @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @diverdcwn @mdlyncline @https-luna @broken-jj @nqbmf @ityagirljay @downbytheouterbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @trinnwazheree

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #obx fic #my writing

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

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Christmas Specials: Fishcake

CW: Some hint of dehumanization and references to Bahram’s depression/past breakdown at the end, some brief emeto references, but really this is just fluff. Oh, also brief unintentional ableism that Miah calls out.

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES

December 24th, 20XX 11:15 pm Mer in Residence: 71 Days

Miah showed up tonight with a Christmas present for me, and now I feel like a giant dick for not having anything to give her.

Christmas just isn’t a thing in my family. I mean, I have cousins who go overboard with it, kind of a fitting in thing, but my family never did. Baba does some kind of fast, but for Maman it’s just another day and for me it’s always meant mostly a day where I played video games all day because I didn’t have to be at school or work.

Oh, I need to call Baba and Maman tomorrow, note to self. She always gets worried about me right around the end of the year, what with how they figured out I was quitting school and everything.

I guess getting a phone call from a hospital leaves a bloody impression.

Anyway, Miah comes in with this big shopping bag in her hand, waving at me all bright and sunny and cheerful. She set the bag down long enough to berate me for - she assumed - having not taken my medicine on time.

For the record, she was right, but I didn’t tell her that.

Nearly drowning in saltwater made my lungs apparently terribly angry with me, so for the next eight days I’m on a run of antibiotics to handle a lovely case of bacterial pneumonia. Would’ve been far handier to get pneumonia right away, but instead I ended up in Urgent Care yesterday, paying 200 dollars and waiting two hours to see a doctor for less than ten minutes.

Dr. L says she’ll reimburse me the cost, but still.

Miah asked me how I was feeling, I said I felt fine, really, and then of course I had an awful coughing fit just to prove myself a wonderful liar. The coughing’s the worst part - every time I really get going, it’s like being underwater all over again. I can feel my lungs fighting to inflate, to take the air in, and I can hear how hard I’m working to get enough air to stop coughing at all. Miah can’t hear it, but she can see it all right, and she looked worried.

I signed, “I’m fine, it’ll stop, the doctor says it will,” and she frowned at me, but let it go, I guess. While she had her face turned away to greet the mer, I opened the pill bottle and dry-swallowed the meds really fast. Sometimes there are benefits to Miah not being able to hear things.

The mer - Kima, I can call him by his name in these notes, the ones only I see - was already at the side of the tank, watching us. He’s perked up a bit lately, since I started giving him live fish on the days Dr. L isn’t around and Miah brought him all these enrichment things. We’re doing what we can, but I know it’s still not enough.

Enough would be figuring out where his bloody family is and getting him back to them, but I just… I can’t even begin to explain, even to myself, the logistical nightmare of hauling a six-foot-long mer back to the ocean and finding someone who would take him back up north where his family likely is in the middle of bloody fucking December.

It’s the right thing to do, yeah.

But it’d just be too hard to pull off, not without losing… my whole taped-together life, yeah? Plus I’m still dealing with trying to figure out who exactly is my real employer at this point - who’s paying Dr. L - and what they want from the mer’s… thing he can do.

Miah glanced over at him and signed, “Don’t worry, I have something for you, too,” and Kima just looked back at her, head cocked to the side. She looked over at me and signed, “It’s a fish-cake.”

I have to admit, it took me a second to even begin to respond. My hands just… hung in mid-air, before finally I asked, “A what?”

“A fishcake. It’s like a fruitcake, but so much worse.” She leaned down to dig around in the big bag and pulled out a box, pausing to add, “I had to wrap it and box it or the car would have smelled horrible for days,” before she picked up and laid the box on my desk, opened it, took out something wrapped in layers of plastic, and unwrapped that, painstakingly slowly.

I glanced over at the mer, who watched with total fascination. Maybe he’d caught the sign for fish, he’s incredibly food-motivated. Which makes sense, of course, probably with his pod he’d spend a lot of his day eating and hunting for more, but

Bahram. Focus.

She was right - as soon as the plastic came off, I could smell it.

“How can you handle that? Isn’t your sense of smell… really good?” Ah, yes, I am always so proud of myself when I forget a sign for a word I want to say and have to sort of cobble together the spirit of it with other signs.

She looked at me with this sort of dry are you kidding me expression, then signed, “I’m deaf, B, not a superhero,” in a way that made me feel about ten inches tall.

“Sorry. That’s an awful smell, though.”

And it was. I like fish as much as the next man, but this was foul. She grinned at me and picked up the tupperware the fishcake was in using towels to protect her hands from picking the smell up too, I guess, and went over to the ladder up to the platform. Her back was already to me, so I couldn’t ask her the question I had, or tell her not to do that one-handed. Instead, I just sort of… got up and hovered uselessly while she climbed up without looking back, and then followed her up there.

The platform makes me… nervous, now. I stay closer to the ladder, farther from the water. I hope the mer, that Kima doesn’t think I don’t want to be close to him or something.

Miah took the lid off the tupperware and waited. Soon enough the mer popped up near us, interested in what we were doing on the platform.

I watched those nasal slits open wide when he smelled the fish. And I watched how his eyes went big and shiny with excitement. Whatever Miah had put in the foul thing, he wanted it.

She dumped it into the water - I didn’t see much, other than a sort of loaf-shape and a sense of texture I never want to think about again - and Kima tore into it. It was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen, and I have actually watched Kima eat raw fish that was living seconds before. I had to look away - and so did Miah, but she was laughing. She can’t hear herself, only feel the vibration in her own throat. Her laughs kind of sound almost honking, choked-off, just totally un-self-conscious noises she’s barely aware of.

I should tell her that I like the way she laughs.

Oh, I absolutely should not do that.

Maybe I should, though.

She grinned at me, still laughing, and signed, “This is disgusting!”

“It is,” I signed back, “And it’s your fault, don’t forget that!”

She was still laughing when Kima looked back up at us, fish bits smeared around his mouth, and she signed, “Merry Christmas, K-I-M-A,” to him. He stared back, signed yes, and then dove back under the water, present utterly devoured, leaving only gross little particles I will probably have to hose off the sides of the tank on cleaning day when the filters can’t quite pick them up.

Miah looked at me, and I just thought, you know, she’s really pretty even under the sun lamps, and nobody is pretty in that light. Then she signed, after this moment of stillness, “I bought you a present, too.”

“Me?” I pointed back at myself, blinking, surprised. “I don’t do Christmas, M, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I know. But I still bought a present. Can I show you?”

“Um, sure.” I get nauseous when I’m nervous. For a second, climbing back down the ladder, I thought I’d just get sick all over myself. I was badly designed, my defense mechanism is just to vomit on myself to scare predators away, clearly my body thinks pretty women are dangerous and I have to embarrass myself until they stop looking at me.

Finally, though, we were back at my desk. The smell… lingered. I’ve since burned the candle Miah got me, and the sulfur from the matches and the scent of the candle itself have largely done away with it, but when we got back, it was still powerful.

She didn’t pull anything out of the bag, instead she just took a small card out of her back pocket and handed it to me.

I looked down at it. “Alborz?” I realized I’d spoken out loud, looking down, and looked back up quickly so I could repeat it in sign, so she could see. “A-L-B-O-R-Z? A gift card to a restaurant?”

She nodded, quickly, signing so fast I was having trouble keeping up. I guess… was she nervous, too? “It’s food like you grew up with, yes?”

“Yeah, more or less. I mean nothing is better than my mother’s food. But why-”

She reached out and grabbed my arm with one hand to stop me, leaned in so close that the smell of this super subtle perfume she wears was stronger, for a second, than the smell of fish. “B,” She signed, with heavy, slow emphasis, “Think about why I bought you this.”

I just looked at her. I didn’t get it at all, and told her so.

I’m so bloody dense.

She sighed, throwing her hands up in the air with an eye-roll and a smile, and then signed, “When are you taking me there?”

She had to repeat the signs three times before I realized she was asking me on a date.

So anyway, I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink tonight, and also I think I celebrate Christmas now.

Date-mas.

That was an awful joke. I’m leaving it there just to properly shame myself if I ever reread this.

---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whumpywhumpwhump @yet-another-heathen @fanmanga1357-blog @justabitofwhump

#mer whump #christmas specials #signs of the sea #depression tw #breakdown mention tw #emeto references #mer whumpee #fluff #angst and fluff #all comfort no hurt #referenced drowning #bahram anvari #miah kirsse

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firehananas · 3 years ago

Text

II - Autumn’s naps

The lonely prince and the silly commoner Part 1 | ~ 1500 words

“Can miles truly separate us from friends? If we want to be with someone we love, aren’t we already there?” — Richard Bach.

As their bond grew, Harunobu came less and less at school. Even though Kotone could still play with others kids, she terribly missed him. It's always a relief when he finally came back, but the uneasy feeling it’s may be the last time they see each other starts hovering over their heads.

"Hey, Nikaidou." The two children are playing with figurines animals — a giraffe for Kotone and a heron for him. Her brutal changing mood, sharping with the tone of their story a moment ago stops Nikaidou.

"What?"

"Are you healed now?"

He sighs, staring his toy with a bothered pout. "Yeah." He says in a weak voice betraying the 'not quite' part.

They stop talking. The atmosphere is weighing. A cold and thick bubble captures them both, isolating the two friends from the others children.

"But..." Harunobu pursues in a very, very quiet voice. "I may stop going to school. I may be schooling at home if I become sick again."

Kotone stiffen before she turns over him with a horrified face.

"It can't be! You— !"

But nothing else comes out. What could do two children against the crushing voices of adults? As the little girl tries to find a solution, her tan face turns red of frustration.

"That's not fair!" She ends up exploding and throwing her poor giraffe away.

"You shouldn't do that," The boy reprimands. "Dad says every object has a soul and you should take care of them."

Kotone loudly exhales and crosses her arms, disapproving. She mumbles that she already knows that, but her anger is too big for her to contain. Then her eyes light up.

"I know! We have to exchange our addresses! Like that, we could still visit each other, even if we don't go to school anymore."

He blinks, thoughtful, before approving with energy. "That should do it!"

They smile to seal their agreement.

The next day, they fulfill it.

The day after, the great summer vacations begin.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

Dear Nikaidou Harunobu,

I hope you are doing good! My parents and I have been visiting my grandparents in Hokkaido. It's very sunny here, but also a bit cold! I have been a lot to the beach and took a lot of pretty shells. My grandpa has been fishing on his boat and he even shows me how to doing it! It was really fun and the fishes very yummy. How are your vacations? What did you do?

Nakagawa Kotone

Hanaoka is next to his young master, lying on his hospital bed, listening carefully the letter he is reading for him. His left arm is on a drip, piercing his pale skin. The boy doesn't seem to mind it, and Hanaoka couldn't tell if it's a good or a bad thing.

He used to be a little worry when he delivered the letter. How would Harunobu take it? Would he be hurt to imagine his friend living like any other kids while he has been stuck in a bed since the beginning of August? Even if it wasn't the intent, it could give him a bad reflexion of himself.

But Harunobu keeps smiling until the very end of the letter. He reaches his hand to the postcard that Hanaoka gladly gives in.

"How are you feeling?" Hanaoka couldn't help but ask. He doesn't have the heart to directly formulate the real question he has in mind because maybe — just maybe — it didn't cross the child's mind.

His grey eyes leave the pictured landscape for his caretaker."I'm fine." He assures."I'm glad she remembered me."

It’s may be a pure coincidence he answers his tacit question, but Hanaoka likes to believe his young master is smart enough to have figured it out.

"Say, Hanaoka... Can you help me answer her back?"

The butler smiles gently. "Of course."

Dear Nakagawa Kotone,

Thank you for your letter, it made me really happy! My parents stay for a whole week with me and we play a lot together. It was a very fun week! My father also gave me a game of shōgi and I really like it. I hope we'll play it together one day! I've never been in Hokkaido, but it seems to be a very nice place! Here, it has been very hot and I didn't go outside very much. When the vacations will be over, don't hesitated to visit me at my home during the weekend. I'll leave you my number, so you can call me anytime!

I hope I will see you soon!

Nikaidou Harunobu

"Moooom, why?" Kotone cries loudly. Her whole body imprison the left adult's leg, who's trying unsuccessfully to chase her away and continuing her walk.

"Don't be silly, Kotone." Her mother responds with a stern voice. She pushes the child head to detach her from her leg, like if the child was a sticky insect. "We just came back home. Your dad and I are tired, we can't let drive at Nikaidou's house."

"GRMMMMMMMMMH!! And why NOT? It's not like you are invited anyway." She retorts.

"Kotone! Now you're being rude!"

"I want to go! I want to go! I want to go NOW!"

"KOTONE!"

The woman manages to finally get her kid off, catches her by the neck like a kitten and put her in her bedroom.

"Acting like a brat will lead you nowhere! Stay in your room and allow us to have some PEACE!"

The door slams behind her, making Kotone jumps. Then, she crosses her arms, blows her cheeks out of frustration, and stays still.

She'll need to be more subtle next time.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

Kotone tried everything. She tried to be cute, to be a very good girl (she even accepted to wear the ugly pink dress her mother loves so much when her friends came home). She has been clever in her choice of words, she has been straightforward. Then the impatience walks in and she has been less good and nice. But being deprived of dessert and being put in her room is the only thing she gets out of those protests.

When October comes in, she decides that if her parents couldn't do it, she will do by her own.

Kotone is not stupid (or so she likes to believe): an expedition needs to be prepared. First, she'll take her tiny bag for sports, a bottle of water, a snack, a map... She keeps the letter to make the call and to knows where to go. That's true... she has to announced herself.

The kid inhales deeply, and walks on her tiptoes while carefully observing her surrounding. There is no one in sight. She can hear the incomprehensible noise of the television: her dad is definitely watching it. Her mom goes with her friends some times ago and shouldn’t coming back before the late afternoon. It’s now or never.

Straightening herself, Kotone approaches the home phone and carefully places it on the floor. That way, she’ll be able to see the touch numbers. And then, slowly, her finger starts hitting the keys.

Beep beep beepbeep beep beep…

She has to wait now until someone answers. The kid has the feeling to throw a bottle in the very vast ocean, unsure if it’ll reach someone.

"Hello?"

It’s a mature, feminine and unknown voice. Kotone’s heart beats louder as she struggles founding her words. Paralyzed by anxiety, the child stays quiet.

"Hello?" The voice repeats, "Is someone there?"

The fear her interlocutor cuts the conversation snaps her initial shyness.

"Um, hello! Is this - erm, I mean, i-is this Nikaidou’s number?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I am Nakagawa Kotone, and I want to know if I can come to Ni - I mean! If I can visit Nikaidou!"

Her fingers twist around the thread’s phone, nervously playing with it.

"Oh, you’re miss Nakagawa! You are welcomed anytime. When do you think to come over?"

"Today!" Kotone couldn’t help but screams.

"T-Today?" The voice stutters a bit dumbfounded. "Wait a second please…"

The silence replaces her. Kotone takes a look at the living room's door, hoping her dad don't walk in. Her heart seems to have calm down, yet it still beat hard enough on her chest to hear it.

"My apologies for the wait. You are expected, miss Nakagawa."

Kotone couldn’t hold a squeak of excitement.

"I’m on my way!"

"Wait! When are you supposed to —"

But it’s too late : Kotone is already gone and, after telling her father she is going to play outside (which isn’t technically a lie), she climbs the fence and takes her first step on the street.

<< Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

#autumn's naps #ASBMF

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notyourdayrdream · 3 years ago

Text

Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Day Five, Side A: Austere

read it here on AO3

A/N: brief mention of Kurt being kissed without consent in season two of Glee

(also! for this two shot: Kurt and Blaine met at Dalton, but never dated.)

“What if we went to Coney Island Saturday?” Brittany exclaimed at their weekly potluck, completely out of the blue. Nobody had even mentioned the theme park. Though, to be fair, nobody begins half of the conversations Brittany throws them in.

For some reason, everyone agreed, even Rachel. She said taking a break from the hustle of Broadway was exactly what she needed to be ready to continue her role as Fanny on Monday.

Outvoted, Kurt reluctantly sat between Blaine and Sam on the subway ride to Coney Island, legs shaking the entire time. It wasn’t that he hated carnivals. It was the opposite, actually. When he was younger, his mom and dad took him to the Ohio state carnival. It’s one of the last memories he can fully remember of her, her long blonde hair braided back as she threw a plastic ball at a stack of milk cans. Anything for her kid, especially one who desperately wanted an oversized dragon plushie.

No, he’s nervous because he has a date at eight.

Kurt met Oliver at a coffeehouse near the Vogue office, he was the barista who served him his drink. Oliver’s number was scribbled on the receipt. It was all very cute, and his friends agreed when he told them the story.

They texted back and forth a week before Oliver asked him out. Kurt happily agreed, hoping for a calm day before getting dressed and heading out to a fancy dinner. Now though, he won’t even have enough time to shower the smell of hotdogs off his body and be on time.

So Kurt’s scrolling through Oliver’s Instagram (not at all like a creep,) when Artie pats his shoulder. “There they are,” he points ahead as the rest of his friends stumble to them, chatting animatedly about the rollercoaster they just went on.

“You know, when you said ‘let’s go on a ride,’ I didn’t think you meant the one with a huge drop,” Rachel says, gripping Santana’s arm so hard it might fall off. Her hair is wind whipped and messy.

“C’mon Rach, you could’ve sat with Kurt and Artie if you wanted,” Mercedes says from behind her, arms wrapped around Sam’s waist.

“Did you guys have fun?” Kurt asks from the bench, carefully closing the app so he doesn’t accidentally like an old photo. “Rachel looks like she just died.” This is why he didn’t go on the ride.

Blaine sits beside him on the bench, his eyes gleaming with a sort of childlike wonder. He’s a total adrenaline junkie. “It was amazing, she’s overreacting,” he whispers not-too-discreetly. Kurt giggles.

“Let’s split up,” Santana suggests. “I wanna go on another coaster, and the park closes at six. We can grab dinner after?”

“Unless you’re Sam and Brittany, who already ate,” Artie chides. His camera rests on his lap, storage filled with videos and photos of their trip.

“Hey! Cotton candy is not one of the five food groups!” Brittany sticks out a blue tongue at him, Sam does the same. Their respective partners laugh.

“I have to leave soon,” Kurt reminds the group, checking his phone another time. Five thirty-two.

“Wait, never mind guys,” Santana alerts, appearing to be suddenly anxious. “Kurt has to get his brains fucked out at eight, so we can’t have dinner.” Both Blaine and Kurt wince.

“Too far, San.” Mercedes cringes as her and Sam make their way down the boardwalk steps and to the beach. The others shake their heads in similar disgust before going their separate ways. Rachel pushes Artie to the outdoor arcade with plans to win a bagged goldfish. Brittany pulls her girlfriend by a sticky hand to the older wooden coaster.

“So…” Blaine knocks his shoulder as they walk down the boardwalk. The gel has completely left his hair throughout the course of the day, curls hanging just above his eyebrows. “Whatcha wanna do?” Kurt spies him eyeing the Wonder Wheel beside him.

He shakes his head, not waiting for the question. “No.”

“Please?” Blaine pleaded. “You haven’t been on anything this whole time.” He sidesteps a tiny toddler crying over a fallen ice cream cone.

“I didn’t want Artie to feel alone!” Kurt defends himself. Which was true, most of the coasters weren’t accessible for him, so they spent the time bonding over the grossness of carnival food and looking at footage from the day.

“We’ll Artie isn’t here now,” Blaine replies, voice dropping an octave. “So come on the ferris wheel with me.” He bats his eyelashes for extra effect. Kurt’s stomach swoops.

Blaine has a way of doing that to him. In their near five year friendship, he’s made Kurt’s stomach tie up in knots more times than he can count. He won’t deny he used to have a crush on him in high school; he was preppy and chivalrous and oh so cute in his bow ties and blazers.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he sighs. Blaine cheers next to him, mumbling ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’ in the same deep voice that makes the blood rush to Kurt’s face.

Okay, maybe the crush wasn’t entirely dead. But it’s completely normal to have crushes on your friends. Friendly crushes.

Since the park is soon to close, the lines weren’t too long anymore. Kurt and Blaine move up first in line after only five minutes.

The ride operator turns to them. Her hair is bordering on orange. “You guys want an outside or inside car?” Her voice has no expression, and she looks two more button presses from quitting her job.

“Outside.” Kurt and Blaine say at the same time, followed by a quiet laugh.

She eyes them. “Alright.” She presses another button, and the outer ring of ferris wheel carts rotate downwards until an empty one comes to the bottom. “Enjoy the ride.”

Blaine and Kurt slide into the seat, sitting on opposite sides of the enclosure. The ride jerks forward and up, until they’re halfway around the ride. “Are you okay? Your face is really pale.” Blaine asks, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt squeaks, closing his eyes to avoid looking down. Even though the car is supposed to be stationary, it rocks just a little as it moves up and down to complete its first circle.

Blaine thinks for a moment before saying quietly, “You’re afraid of heights?” He jumps a little in his seat, and the car rocks with it. Kurt’s stomach drops.

“I am!” he snaps, opening his eyes. “Stop moving so much.” The city is lit up around them, the sound of cheers from the rollercoaster whizzing by below him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine stills himself. “I wouldn’t have made you go on if you had told me, Kurt!” He looks so worried that Kurt feels bad for even mentioning his fear. It’s completely irrational anyway, he doesn't even have a reason to be so scared. It’s just the fact he believes no human needs to be up one hundred fifty feet high.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he tries to console Blaine (and himself). “It’ll be over in what, three more minutes?” He can last three more minutes. Hell, he’s lasted an hour listening to Rachel and Santana argue.

And then the ride stops. At the very top.

It takes a minute for the two of them to realize this isn’t supposed to happen. “Why’d it stop.” Kurt says. His body feels like it might melt onto the floor. “Oh my god, no.”

“We’re stuck.” Blaine groans, which, thanks Captain Obvious! Those two words are confirmation that this is actually the absolute worst day ever. “I’ll call someone.”

Rachel’s ringtone beats him to it.

Kurt can’t hear much of the conversation, but from the looks Blaine throws his way, he knows it isn’t good. He cracks his knuckles as a way to distract himself from the slight sway of the cart. Passerbys the size of ants point and look up at the malfunctioned ride.

Blaine clicks the end call button. “Okay, good news first, ” he begins, pocketing his phone. “Rachel and Artie talked to the operators, and they’re working on fixing the ride.”

“Bad news?” Kurt presses. Blaine likes to do that thing where he gives good news then bad news, but the latter is always so bad the good news pales in comparison. He’s done that ever since they met. It’s silly, but it’s Blaine, so Kurt loves it.

“Bad news is that it might take thirty minutes, maybe forty-five.” Blaine cringes from the other side of the cart, waiting for Kurt’s outburst.

“No.” Kurt snatches his phone out of his pocket. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” He feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. He’s gonna be late. “I’m gonna miss my date!” He groans, and yeah it may be a little over dramatic, but he hasn’t been on a date with someone in months. He was really excited.

Expecting sympathy from Blaine, he glanced over at him. He’s glaring right back at him. “What?”

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” Blaine says abruptly. “God forbid you miss your date.” He rolls his eyes with more venom Kurt’s seen in him ever. It freaks him out and angers him at the same time.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” He retorts, eyes narrowing. Blaine shrinks back a little at the stare, but doesn’t stop glowering.

“You’ve been going on about this stupid guy the whole day, complaining about how you have to go home, I’m so sick of it!” Blaine continues. His voice grows louder by the end.

“He’s not stupid, okay?” Kurt doesn’t know why he feels like he has to defend Oliver, but he does anyway. “And you’re the main one who wanted me to go out with him!” This whole situation is confusing him.

Blaine huffs indignantly and crosses his arms. “Maybe I don’t want you to anymore!”

“Why not?” Kurt presses. He’s never seen his best friend act like this. He almost seems jealous.

“Because I like you!” Blaine cries, eyes wet. “Jesus, couldn’t you tell?” His face is red now, flushed up to his neck.

Kurt flinches. “Please stop yelling.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine immediately backs down, curling into himself. “I like you, Kurt. I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but I do.”

The sun is starting to set now, casting what feels like the entire world in an orange haze. The ocean to the right of them glimmers, couples walked in tandem along the shore. To the left, the skyline of Brooklyn appears austere and somber from so high up.

“How long?” Kurt says finally, eyes settling on the horizon and the rolling waves.

“How long what?”

“How long have you liked me?” He doesn’t know if he wants the answer.

There’s a pause until Blaine eventually murmurs, “Five years.”

Kurt’s heart drops. “Blaine.” Why didn’t he say anything? Oh god, this is horrible.

“I just, I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship by admitting anything,” Blaine explains, rubbing the nape of his neck. “It’s a lame excuse. But—yeah.” And he resides back into silence.

It is a lame excuse, Kurt thinks. Of course it wouldn’t have ruined anything. He had a crush on his stepbrother, for Christ’s sake. “So why did you want me to go out with Oliver so bad?”

“I thought, maybe, if you started dating someone I could get over you,” he laughs to himself. “That obviously didn’t work.”

Kurt just stares at him for a moment until he makes up his mind. “I’m coming over there.”

Blaine jerks out of his thoughts. “N-no, don’t come any closer,” he stammers. “You’ll mess up the balance of the car.” He looks terrified. Kurt can’t decide if it’s sad or adorable.

He rolls his eyes. “I won’t mess up the balance of anything.” Kurt stands slowly, holding his arms out to his sides. He takes the three steps to Blaine’s side of the car quickly to get it over with, shaking the seats. When he falls into the seat, Blaine steadies him by the waist. The touch shocks both of them, and he snatches his arm back.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, neither of them daring to move. It’s what feels like hours before Kurt takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts. “Do you remember when we first met? And I was having trouble with Karofsky? You texted me a single word. Courage.” He turns to the side. Blaine looks absolutely disheveled, sweating and curls getting frizzier by the minute. Weirdly, he looks gorgeous.

Blaine snorts. “Yeah, that word got you sexually assaulted.”

“No,” Kurt shakes his head, choosing to ignore the way his heart stops from the words. “That word saved me. You saved me, Blaine.” He would’ve never stood up for himself without that text. It got him through McKinley and Dalton and NYADA to this day.

“I’m always going to care about you. And I’m sorry I don’t… like you the way you like me. But I used to,” Kurt admits, now nervous like must’ve been. That secret was supposed to go to the grave. “And maybe I can again.”

Blaine meets his gaze, an emotion Kurt can’t quite place swirling around his eyes. “Okay.” He smiles, and though it is wavering, it’s also hopeful.

There’s a jolt, and the wheel starts turning again. It’s dark now, the sun fully disappeared below the horizon. The sky is a mix of purple and black and blue, a bruise painted among the stars. Kurt hears cheers from the other cars as they reach the ground below. “Okay.”

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: austere #glee #writing #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #surprise cliffhanger mwahahahaha #jk i’ll continue it tmrw #also these words just keep harder whyyy #this is my official headcanon that kurt’s afraid of heights

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itsnsfwalways · 4 years ago

Text

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #dom harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years ago

Text

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Summary: The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it. Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’

#my writing #reddie imagine #reddie fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #richie and eddie #adult losers #it chapter two imagine #eddie x richie

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obxhoe · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! I was wonder if you can write JJ x Reader when the reader and JJ are friends but both have huge crushes on each other. One day at John B’s house they both confess their love. They then kiss and all the other pogues see and are happy?!! You can add smut if you write it, if you want. Thanks!!

a/n: sorry this is late, i started writing this a few days ago and then went on a spontaneous ~trip~ if you know what i mean lol ;) anyways i literally love this request also thank you for being my first request ever :) I hope you like this!!!!

word count: around 1700

warnings: alcohol, weed, swearing, teeeeeny tiny bit of smut idk if you could even call it that lol

It was written in the stars that you and JJ were meant to be. Everyone knew it. Well everyone except you two. You and JJ have been friends for years now, you clicked immediately. The friendship had always been flirty, consisting of jokingly arguing, laying on each other while watching movies or by the fire. But somewhere along the line you had caught feelings for him. No matter how hard you tried to suppress or deny it, they were there and they weren’t going away anytime soon. It never got easier seeing him flirt with other girls, your chest always felt tight and heavy when you looked over and saw him chatting it up with some touron. Kie was the first one to know about your feelings for the beautiful, blond haired boy. She kind of figured out on her own when one night at a party at the boneyard she saw you lock eyes on JJ and a ditzy girl talking closely, JJ eyeing her up and down. You slammed your cup down and walked away towards the water and she knew immediately what was going on and followed you. The conversation was simple: she knew and you were just completely oblivious to how obvious your feelings were.

Since then, not much has changed. You’ve kept your feelings to yourself, and well Kie, and JJ has kept his attention on whoever his girl of the week is. What you didn’t know, but Kie, Pope and John B assumed, was that JJ had feelings for you too. Of course you are oblivious to the signs, but everyone else can see it. He looks at you while you speak as if you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. When he sees you talking to other guys, his fists and jaw clench. He keeps it hidden, or so he thinks he does, but the other pogues can see it all. The girls he hooks up with, he does that to try to take his mind off of you.

Tonight is the usual party at the boneyard. At the last party, JJ walked off with another girl and returned the next morning to the chateau covered in hickeys and the sight of that made you sick. Hell, even thinking about it makes you feel sick. You decide tonight, you’re just going to finally let loose, get somewhat drunk and hopefully find a semi-attractive guy to hookup with to forget about JJ for a little bit. You fiddle with your rings while waiting for John B and the rest of the group to pick you up. Hearing the car reach the gravel driveway, you shoot up. All of a sudden feeling butterflies in your stomach knowing that the boy you’re hopelessly in love with waits behind the door of the van. Pulling open the door you see Kie look you up and down giving you a smirk and thumbs up. John B whistles and Sarah playfully hits his arm but shoots you a wink. You try not to look at JJ. What you don’t see is that his face has flushed, he licks his lips and his fists are clenched by his sides.

It’s not too long after arriving that you start to feel the buzz from the alcohol creeping in, starting at your toes and working into your hands. You can’t stop giggling at the stupidest things and you finally feel a bit at peace. That is until you see a girl approach JJ, grabbing his hand and pulling him to dance. Your stomach drops and you search for some guy so you can do the same. You jump at a deep voice behind you and quickly turn around, finding yourself face to face with a tall brunette with piercing green eyes.

“Dance with me.” he asked, actually more like demanded. You nod, his hand on the lower half of your back, guiding you to where everyone else was dancing. Your back is to him, swaying to the beat of the music. Usually you would be self conscious dancing in front of all of these people but the alcohol in your system was giving you the confidence you needed. You felt his hands wrap around your front, placing one hand on the side of your hip and one on your thigh. All of a sudden you make eye contact with the one person you would rather go without seeing for the rest of the night. You locked your eyes with his and you continued to grind your hips into the boy behind you. You feel his breath and your neck and you roll your head back. You look back to where you just saw JJ and he’s not there anymore, but the girl is.

“Y/n,” you hear Kie behind you. You turn and she nods her head towards the parking lot. “We’re heading out. You're sleeping at John B’s with us right?” You look at your phone and see that it’s 2 am already.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” You turn to the guy you’ve been dancing with and flash him a smile and give him a flirty wave goodbye. It was good to forget about JJ for a bit.

When you get into the van, you see Pope in the driver's seat, JJ sitting shotgun and John B with Sarah in his lap in the back. You climb in and say hi to everyone, but JJ ignores you.

When you reach the chateau, JJ gets out and slams the door, rushing towards the house.

“What the fuck is his problem” Sarah said making a face.

“Dude I don’t know. He got in the van all huffy and pissed off for some reason. I saw him like shove a girl off of him and storm away from her. I don’t know if she said something or what.” Pope chimes in.

“You should talk to him” John B says to you, everyone agreeing with him.

“Fine” you sigh, hoping that whatever bad mood he was in would easily be sorted out. You all pile in the house and you notice JJ in a hammock in the backyard. You hold your breath and walk outside.

“Hi. What’s going on with you?” You ask, somewhat shakily.

“Why do you care?” JJ days and it feels like you’re being stabbed in the chest.

“What the fuck. What is your issue?”

“I don’t know Y/n. Just go away. I’m sure you’d much rather be spending your time with that guy from the party right now.” He mumbles while lighting a joint. He takes a deep inhale, and you’re lost for words.

“Is… Is that what your mood is about? Me dancing with another guy? Why would you even care about that?” You’re shaking, too many emotions running rampant through your head.

“Nevermind. Forget I even said anything.” You snag the joint out of his hand, desperately needing to relax. After you exhale you speak, slowly, trying not to irritate him further.

“No JJ, can you please tell me what the hell is going on with you. Because never have I seen you like this.” He takes the joint back and looks you dead in the eyes.

“Do you not see it Y/n? I like you. I fucking like you. I’ve liked you for so long it hurts. Seeing you with that other guy made me so angry that my vision went blurry.” He shakes his head. “I’m fucking head over heels for you and it drives me crazy.” Your stomach drops, and you can’t think straight.

“You- What? No. There’s no way. You fuck around with so many girls, it makes no sense.”

“I do that so that I can try to push away my feelings for you. And it never works. I always just sit there wishing it was you, it’s pathetic.” He throws the dying joint into the ground. “You don’t have to say anything more, it's fine, just let me be please.”

“No” You state, he groans.

“Please.”

“No JJ” you take a deep breath. “I’m not leaving. I can’t. Do you wanna know why I was dancing with that guy? Because I was so done with thinking about you with other girls. Because I needed to forget for one fucking second that I could never have the one thing I want most in the world. I’ve cried to Kie so many times it’s embarrassing. I jus-” He cuts you off by grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. You climb onto his lap, careful to not flip yourself off of the hammock. You breathe him in, taking in every second, your heart fluttering out of your chest. He lets out a small moan as you grab onto his hair. You pull away, looking into his ocean colored orbs. His eyes fluttering, his breath quick.

“You like me?” He whispers with a smile on his face. You nod, quietly laughing with a grin plastered across your face. He pulls you into a hug murmuring “I can’t believe this” into your hair. You lay there for a few more minutes before retreating inside to grab some water and head to bed. You sit on top of the counter as JJ opens the fridge. He walks in between your legs and places a kiss on top of your forehead. Then your nose. Then your mouth.

“Fucking finally.” You hear Kie yell behind you.

“John B you owe me 20 bucks” Pope hits John B on the shoulder. Your face is bright red as you pull away from JJ and look behind his shoulder. Your best friends are standing 7 feet away from you, with smirks and smiles across their faces. You cock an eyebrow, confused as to why they're all so happy. What about no pogue on pogue macking?

“You’re not mad?” you question.

“We’ve been waiting on this forever. It was so obvious you guys liked each other, we’ve had bets going for months.” John B laughed.

“It was about time” Kie shrugged. “I’m just happy I don’t have to keep the secret anymore.”

Everything just fell into place, it was blissful. You fell asleep next to JJ on the couch, snuggled up by his side, the happiest you’ve been in a very long time.

#jj imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #john b #john b imagine #obx #obx imagine #obx x reader #outer banks #pope heyward #kie carrera #jj smut #jj #jj outer banks

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years ago

Text

Strep

You go to visit your brother, Tom, in the states, but you get sick and beg him not to tell your parents.

“Are you sure you feel well enough to go?” Your dad asked you as you shakily made your way over to where your bags were sitting. You were about go visit your oldest brother, Tom, for the whole of summer break, but the past day you hadn’t been feeling well. You were sure it was the bad Indian food you’d had the night before, but you weren’t letting anything stop you. It had been four months since you’d seen him and he’d surprised you with a ticket without even asking your parents first. There was no way you were going to give it up.

“Yes, Dad, I’ll be fine,” you said, “it’s probably just the food from last night.” He sighed.

“Alright, then, load the car up.” You loaded your suitcases, bags, and backpack into the car for your dad to take you to the airport, only for a second barging into your only younger brother’s room to make him tell you goodbye. The others were gone on some weekend trip, so you’d said goodbye to them two days before and they’d tried to convince you that your plane was going to crash over the ocean, so it was better that you didn’t see them again.

You said goodbye to your mom and your dad started driving you, letting you out at the closest terminal to yours. It wasn’t the first time you’d flown, you were basically an expert at it, even though it was the first time you’d actually been alone. Usually you had one of the boys with you if not your parents, so you were watching things a little more than usual. But you printed your boarding pass, checked your luggage in, went through security, got some food, and FaceTimed Tom.

“Are you almost on?” He asked when he saw you’d already downed most of the tea you’d gotten.

“Yeah, we board in a few minutes. It says I get in at nine tonight.”

“Alright. I’ll be there, then, I’ll park and meet you at the baggage. Fly safe. I love you.”

“I love you too.” His face disappeared when you shut your phone off. You didn’t hate flying, but you hated taking off, and turned your music up as loud as it would go. Thankfully your flight got in so late that it was pretty empty and you could pick a seat of your own. You made sure not to look at the map, since it only freaked you out that you were going over the ocean for such a long time, and you bought WiFi to watch a few movies.

You started to feel sick again, but you were going through a storm and you were getting tossed all over the place, so that was probably it. You just opened the blanket you brought, noticing how cold the air on the plane had gotten, and reclined your seat as much as you could to sleep a little. And you were out for most of the rest of the flight – you let yourself look at the map when you felt the plane going down and realized you were about to land in Atlanta.

“There she is!” You heard Tom’s familiar voice and tugged out your headphones, walking over to him and hugging him tightly. “How’s my favorite sister?”

“Tired,” you responded honestly. He laughed.

“Well, we’ll get your bags, I want to take you to get food, and then you can get settled in.” You nodded, looking at the screen that told you your flight was next for baggage. It would still be a few minutes, though, so you let yourself catch up with Tom and throw away all of your trash. You finally got your bags and he led you out to where he’d made Harrison keep the car waiting.

“It’s about time!” Harrison called out, getting out of the car to help with your bags. He attacked you with a hug first and then playfully pushed you back away. “Hungry?”

“Please,” you responded with a laugh as you got in the back seat. Tom shut the trunk of the car and let it settle before getting back in the front. “I missed you guys. I missed American soil.” Tom laughed as Harrison tried to pull away from the curb before the airport police would get pissed off at him.

“How was flying by yourself?” Tom asked, looking behind you. You heard the GPS say something about a restaurant.

“Not bad. Definitely easier than with Paddy and the twins.” He grinned.

“Anything is better than flying with them. They have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes, all three of them.” Tom adjusted the hat on his head and turned back, letting you watch as Harrison drove through downtown. There wasn’t any traffic and they pulled into some drive-thru, ordering a shit ton of food, and passed it back for you to hold.

“How much food do you get here?”

“Are you surprised?” Tom asked as he handed you the third Styrofoam box. You rolled your eyes and tried not to gag. You didn’t know why, because the food smelled good, and you were starving because all you’d had was half a bag of goldfish you got from the airport so they were stale.

You ate with the boys, more than you thought you would, showered off the airport smell, and went to bed. Tom didn’t have to go film for another three weeks, so you had some quality time with him for a few days. You’d decided to go to Six Flags the next day since it wouldn’t be as crowded on a weekday, so you woke up only a few hours after going to sleep. You felt drained, but a cup of coffee fixed it. You’d never had issues adjusting to new time zones, but this one had thrown you for a bit of a loop.

“You good?” Tom asked you as you plopped down on the bar stool, head on your elbow.

“Yeah, just tired,” you responded. He looked you up and down, sighing.

“Are you sure you want to go?”

“Dad asked me the same thing. I’m fine, Tommy.” Your nickname for him always made him smile and now was no different. He gave you some of his breakfast and the two of you ate while you waited for Harrison, and then you all headed out to go to the park.

“It’s so hot,” you complained later as the Atlanta sun beat down on you. Tom could tell you were a little overheated, but he took the bag you were wearing from you and exchanged it with the giant water he got. Your throat was sore, it had been since you woke up, but you didn’t think much of it. You never did. Your body could just hate the fact that you were halfway around the world. You tried not to think about it as you and the boys wandered around the park for most of the day, but it got progressively worse until you could feel a clicking in your throat whenever you swallowed. But you were probably fine, so you ignored it.

“I’m taking a nap!” Harrison called that night as you finally got back to the car. All three of you were sunburned and exhausted, especially because you’d consumed so many sugary snacks that by the time you got back to the car all of the sugar had left you crashing. You tried not to fall asleep, and Tom made sure to hit a curb on your side to wake you up.

“Come on,” he said, shoving you after he pulled into the driveway to the house he was renting. You woke up and got out of the car, taking off your makeup and going to bed as soon as you could.

You woke up the next morning feeling ten times worse than the night before. Your throat felt like it was on fire, but you could barely fucking swallow when you tried to drink some water. You looked over at Tom, who was still asleep. The house only had two bedrooms and Tom wasn’t about to make you sleep on the couch but he wasn’t going to either, so unless he decided to bring a real girl over you were sleeping in his bed as far away from him as you could. Your entire body ached and the last thing you wanted to do was go back to sleep, so you did.

“Wake up!” About two hours later, at ten AM, you felt Tom pushing you back onto your side of the bed.

“What?” You asked in a hoarse voice.

“You sound like a smoker,” he responded.

“I feel awful.”

“Come on, I’ll make you something to drink,” he encouraged, pulling the covers off the both of you. You followed him anyway, and as soon as you started walking to the kitchen your head started throbbing. But you sat down at the kitchen counter and he started to make you some of your favorite tea. You wondered why he kept it around if you weren’t there – he always said he hated sweet teas, but your favorite was peach.

“Thanks,” you said a few minutes later as he was handing it to you in a Spider-Man mug. He’d made sure not to make the water too hot so you wouldn’t die drinking it. It felt good coating your throat, but as soon as it left, you felt awful again.

“I don’t have a thermometer,” he said as he walked over to you, putting his palm to your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I feel like shit,” you complained. “I need a shower.”

“Go take one. We can just relax today, okay?” You nodded and went to go take another shower. Your clothes were sticking to your skin from sweating, and you felt so bad that you changed the sheets on the bed. You came back out and Tom had ordered food, but the idea made you sick to your stomach.

“Come get a waffle before I destroy them all,” a tired Harrison said as he was about to pour syrup all over the box full of waffles.

“I’m good,” you said, taking a spot in the corner of the couch between the boys. You drank a second round of tea, but it wasn’t helping much. You could see your mom’s contact name on Tom’s phone and snatched it away from him.

“I’m just going to call her and tell her you’re sick!”

“And then she’ll come here or she’ll make me come home! I’m fine, Tommy, please?” You didn’t give him his phone back until he agreed not to tell your mom, and when he said he wouldn’t say anything you gave it back to him.

“Your germs are all over it!” He said, wiping it off on his t-shirt. “If you’re not better by this afternoon, I’m taking you to an urgent care.”

“Fine,” you agreed, “just don’t tell Mom. I’m fine.”

“You’re lying, but okay.” He let it go, though, and even though Harrison went to run some errands the two of you stayed on the couch. You laid on opposite ends of the couch, your feet touching, like you were known to do at home. Even though you were right in the middle, you were Tom’s favorite and it was no secret. You and Paddy were roped into being together most of the time, so when you got to spend time with Tom you were always excited because he was Spider-Man, he was the coolest older brother ever, and you were always so excited to see what he was doing and hang out with him.

“Feeling any better?” He asked you, poking your leg that was wedged between his and the couch a few hours later. You shook your head. He’d all but babied you for most of the day, and for the last few hours you’d been sleeping through episodes of New Girl.

“No,” you replied. Tom sighed and sat up, so you did the same. You knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it.

“Then I’m gonna call some place to take you, okay?”

“No,” you begged him. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sick and I don’t know how to help you. We’re taking you as soon as Harrison gets back. Go get some clothes on.” You did as he told you to do, not wanting to take the chance of your parents finding out, and pulled on some clothes. Harrison was back soon and handed the car keys off to Tom, who called an urgent care.

You found out an hour later after about a million swab tests that you had strep. You groaned, looking over at Tom, and he just rubbed your back as they told you they were giving you some steroids. The nurse left you and you just looked at Tom. You were never sick, ever, and you had never even had to get tested for anything.

“You’re fine,” Tom said with a sigh. “And you’re expensive. You do realize I don’t have insurance in this country?”

“I’m sorry.” He just laughed at you.

“I’m kidding. I don’t, but… It’s fine. I’m just glad I can take care of you. I’ll be outside.” You nodded and he pat your back again before taking his wallet out. The nurse gave you some steroids and let you go, but not before warning you that you were still contagious for a full day.

“I’ll get you some ice cream if you’ll sit here for a few minutes,” Tom offered as he pulled into the Target parking lot. You nodded and he handed you a phone charger, leaving the car on for you while he went inside. He was back in a few minutes with your favorite ice cream, Americone Dream, and some other snacks that wouldn’t irritate your throat too much.

You got back and got some of the ice cream out – you’d told Tom you would sleep on the couch, it was fine, and he’d tried to make it as comfortable for you as he could. He even bought you another expansion pack for the Sims without you even asking. It somehow got out in the family group chat, the one without your parents, that you were sick. Paddy and Harry were absolutely awful to you about it, but Sam, ever the sweet one, sent you a few private messages and carried on a few games of 8 Ball in iMessage because he felt bad for you.

“I am officially not contagious anymore!” You said the next afternoon after the boys came in from where they’d been out by the pool. “So you can come within six feet of me.”

“As if!” Harrison said, laughing a little bit. You loved him, but man he was mean sometimes.

“Oh, fuck off!” Tom said, pushing him up the stairs to the bedrooms. Tom came back a little bit later to make some snacks and actually sat down beside you. “You look a lot better.”

“I don’t feel a lot better,” you admitted. “I can’t sleep and my throat hurts and all I can keep down is tea and ice cream.” He sighed and threw an arm around you.

“Come here.” He hugged you tightly and you hugged him back. You didn’t know how long you were there for, but you were almost asleep by the time that your parents called.

“Oh, no,” you groaned.

“Just stay quiet, I got it,” he responded. You leaned your face into his arm, shutting your eyes. “Hey, Dad!” Tom said loudly.

“Hey, how are the two of you? Do anything fun yet?”

“We’re good!” You said. Your throat felt scratchy and you hoped he couldn’t hear it, and Tom sighed before going on.

“We went to Six Flags yesterday and it was super cool, today we just stayed inside mostly. Y/n got me on some new ice cream and it’s really nice,” he said. Usually he liked to walk around when he was on the phone, but now he was just staying with you.

“That’s lovely,” your mother said. “The boys miss you, Y/n.”

“Oh, no they don’t,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Even though all of you got along, you still had to pretend you didn’t. Just for street credit. Tom put his finger to his lips, shaking his head at you to shut up. So you did.

“We’re actually about to go out, there’s a bar here that does quizzes and we were gonna go to the Disney one. So we’ll talk to you later?” All of you said goodbye and he hung up, putting the phone down on the coffee table.

“Are you leaving?” You asked him. He laughed.

“Don’t look so concerned. I’m not leaving you just because you have strep throat,” he promised. He put his arm back around you and kept playing his video game, letting you sleep a little bit before making fun of you some more for sleeping on him.

A/N: I hope this was fluffy enough for you! As much as I love Tom and would love to cuff him for myself, I feel like he’s a great brother too!

Taglist (if you’d like to be on it send me a message/ask!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

#tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine

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jj-iz-bae · 4 years ago

Text

Don't tell me not to worry

Word count: 1722 words

Requested by @sunwardsss : Can you do comfort 38 and 43 for Chase please? 38: “I’m in the hospital.”43: “You don’t have to sleep here just because I got admitted.”

Pairings: Chase Stokes x Reader; Chase Stokes x Rudy Pankow; Rudy Pankow x platonic!reader

Warnings: Hospitals,seizures,Fluff,bad spelling and grammar

Note from author: so this is actually based on a seizure episode I had. It only happend one time and was caused by strep throat which triggered a reaction in the auto immune disorder (the disorder basically is that instead of my immune system attacking the virus or illness, my immune system attacks my brain causing all sorts of weird things to happen. When I was younger only strep throat triggered a "flare" of increased symptoms ie ocd,anxiety,age regression,mood swings,foggy brain and other things. Sadly the disorder has developed so that I flare with any illness, not just strep) ANYWAYS 😂 I hope you enjoy this Fluff with a tiny pinch of angst. Just a tiny bit if you squint. Ace is my nickname for Chase and I've used it in other blurbs. I just think it's cute. Kinda like how I call Rudy Panky🙃

Chase was wrapping up a day on set, shoving all his belongings into a backpack. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and grabbed his keys ,leaving his casting trailer when his phone started ringing. He just realized he hadn’t heard from you all day. Seeing your name flash across the screen, he stopped in his tracks and answered. “Hey baby girl! I haven’t heard from you all day!” Chase exclaimed as he started to kick a rock around with his foot. “Sorry Ace. Please don’t freak out.I’m totally fine now but I'm in the hospital.” you explained slowly. Chase’s eyes grew large as he starred jogging to his car. "Don't tell me not to worry baby! Where are you? What happened?" Chase asked as he reached his car and fumbled with the keys, trying to move quickly in his panicked state. He swore under his breath as he dropped his keys and put you on speaker phone while he picked up his keys. You heard the rustling on the other end of the phone and grew nervous. "Chase! Babe are you OK? Calm down I promise I'm OK!" Rudy just so happened to be walking to his car when he heard your voice and saw Chase cursing at his car keys. "Hey dude! What's going on? You OK?" Rudy asked as he walked over to Chase. "Rudy! Y/n's in the hospital and I need to...I just can't.." Chase stuttered. Rudy grabbed the keys out of his hands. "I'll drive. You just talk to her." Rudy threw his stuff in the back of Chase's car as he hopped into the drivers seat and Chase ran around to the passenger seat. "OK sorry babe. Rudy is driving cause you're freaking me out. What happened?" Chase asked, running his hand through his wavy hair as Rudy pulled out of the set parking lot. "Thanks for taking care of him Rudy! I swear I'm fine! I'm at St. Marcus hospital. I think it's pretty close to town." Rudy picked up his phone and pulled up directions on his GPS before placing his phone in the cup holder so he could see the map. "No problem hun! Now tell us what happened before Chase pulls his hair out." Rudy answered ."Yeah you're scaring the shit out of me,Baby girl." Chase let out a breathy giggle.

"OK. Well I had my mom over and we were just hanging out watching TV and everything went black. Everything sounded echoey and I tried to open my eyes but it was like i had no control. I started convulsing and got sick. Mom called an ambulance and they brought me to the ER. The Er sent me here so I've been in the ambulance twice today!" You sighs. Chase nervously picked at his lips. "So what does that mean? Like did they run any tests yet?" Chase asked as Rudy broke a few traffic laws to get him to you quicker. "They have me hooked up to all these monitors and I'm going for an MRI tomorrow. The doctor said I most likely had a seizure." You explained as you looked at all the wires and iv lines covering your body. Chase let out a breathe that he didn't know he was holding. "OK baby. We will figure this out! Rudy, how far away are we?" Chase looked over at the blonde with red eyes, on the verge of tears. "It's right up here on the left." Rudy mumbled as he leaned over the steering wheel to make sure it was clear to turn. "OK babe. We just pulled into the parking lot. Where do I go?" Chase asked as he unbuckled his seat belt. "I'm on the 7th floor room 54." You said yawning. Rudy pulled up to the main entrance and stopped the car. "Go ahead man. I'll park the car and meet you up there." Rudy explained as Chase gave him a quick hug and jumped out of the car and jogged to the entrance. "OK I'm getting in the elevator now. Ill see you in 2 seconds OK? I'll be right there!" Chase babbled on as he put the phone up to his ear, taking it off speaker. "So how was work?" You asked trying to distract him a little. "Y/n as much as I wanna tell you about my day, I can't remember shit right now." Chase smirked as you hummed in response.

The elevator dinged and Chase got off the elevator and walked up to the nurses station. He put his phone on his shoulder so he wouldn't look rude for not giving the nurse his full attention. "Hello miss! My girlfriend is here somewhere. Room 54. Her name is y/f/n y/l/n. I can give you her birthday if you want to verify I'm not some weirdo." Chase said talking a mile a minute. The nurse just smiled and got up from her desk. "You must be Chase! She told us you were coming! Said you'd be the tall surfer guy with the chocolate brown eyes. Follow me." The nurse smiled before walking down the hall with Chase on her heels. She got to a door and knocked lightly before opening it. "Hey y/n! Surfer boy is here!" The nurse giggled as Chase walked through the door and the nurse closed it behind him. You were laying in the hospital bed with leads attached to your chest and stomach. You also had an iv in her arm and a couple stickers with wires on her head. Upon seeing Chase, you total lost all your composure and started sobbing. Chase rushed over to your side and gently hugged you close. "It's OK baby. I'm here. I've got you." Chase cooed as tears started to run down his face. You scooted over on the bed making room for Chase to lay down. He carefully made sure all the leads were out of the way and nothing was being pulled before tucking you into his chest. " It was so scary! I didn't know what was happening or why." You sniffed as you snuggled into his chest. "Shhhh. It's OK now. It's over. You're here now ad we will figure out what happened and why. Just relax baby." Chase cooed as he rubbed your back. A soft knock made you jump in your sleepy state. Chase said come in before kissing the top of your head, noticing the jolt of your body at the sudden noise. Rudy entered the room with Chase's backpack on his shoulder. "Hey y/n. How you feeling, sweetheart?" Rudy asked in a soft voice as he crouches down next to the bed. "I'm exhausted and confused as to what happened but I feel ok. Thank you for making sure Ace got here OK. I really appreciate it." You said while reaching out to grab Rudy's hand. "No problem at all! JD is coming to pick me up so Chase's car is here." Rudy explained before putting Chase's backpack down. "I thought you might want your bag." Rudy nods to Chase as he stands up. "Thanks man. I owe you one." Chase bumped his fist to Rudy's. "No you don't! You would have done the same for me. You rest up OK y/n? Don't let this guys puppy energy keep you up." Rudy said pointing between the two of you, which made you let out a small chuckle. "He smells like the ocean and is warm. I think I'll have no trouble falling asleep." You mumbles as you snuggles into Chase's chest again. Chase smirks ,holding you close. Rudy's phone dings and he waves good bye so he doesn't disturb the half asleep girl on Chase's chest.

You awoke from your nap to Chase still at your side. You smile up at him. "Sorry I fell asleep on you. You didn't have to stay." Chase opened his eyes lazily, drawing shapes on your arm with his finger. "No way am I leaving you baby. But since you're awake now. I really need to pee." Chase chuckled as he slowly scooted off the bed and walked to the bathroom on the other side of the room. You turned on the TV and sat up a little, looking at the screens and wires all around you. Chase came out of the bathroom, tossing a paper towel into the trash bin, before grabbing his bag from next to the bed. He pulled out his charger and plugged your phone in before putting it down on the table next to you.As he placed the bag down and sat next to you on the bed, a nurse knocked and entered the room. "Hey you two! I have extra sheets and blankets for you! This chair fold out into a lounger so you both don't have to smush together all night." The nurse explained as she sat the extra blankets and linen on the chair. "Thank you so much!" Chase beamed as the nurse came over to your bed side to check all your vitals. "Is there anything I should look for overnight?" Chase asked the nurse."Well if she has any convulsions or gets sick, press this call button." The nurse said pointing to the red button on the wall. "Other than that, if anything has you worried press the button and we will come make sure everything is OK." The nurse smiled as she finished getting your blood pressure and typed the vitals into her laptop before leaving the room. Chase got up from his seat on the bed and opened up the lounger chair, putting on the different sheets ad blankets. "You know, you don't have to sleep here just because I was admitted." You smile watching his basically throw blankets round until he was satisfied. He came and laid down next to you again before pecking your lips. "I told you ,baby. I'm here with you for everything. We'll figure this out together." Chase cooed as he pulled you closer and watched SpongeBob with you on his chest, running his ringers through your hair. "I love you, Ace." You said before kissing his hand. "I love you more,Baby girl."

*photo cred to pintrest*

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