#fast food trays black online

[hnrcatering6]

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[owenbrotherscatering]

Office Catering Trends: What’s Hot in the World of Corporate Food?

In today’s fast-paced business world, office catering has evolved beyond the dull sandwich platters and uninspiring salads. Whether it’s a weekly team lunch, a company-wide meeting, or a special corporate event, food plays a crucial role in bringing people together and enhancing workplace culture. So, do you want to know what’s hot in the world of corporate food when it comes to office catering? We’re here to fill you in on the latest trends that will tantalize your taste buds, spark your creativity, and make your office catering experience an unforgettable one!

1. Sustainability is on the Menu

In a world increasingly focused on sustainability, office catering is no exception. Green is the new black when it comes to corporate food trends. Companies are ditching single-use plastics and opting for eco-friendly utensils, biodegradable packaging, and compostable cutlery. Sustainable sourcing of ingredients is another key trend, with a growing emphasis on locally sourced, organic, and fair-trade products. By choosing sustainable catering options, companies not only reduce their carbon footprint but also appeal to environmentally conscious employees and clients.

2. Global Flavors to Satisfy Your Wanderlust

Office catering in London, Boston or Dubai is now an exciting culinary journey that transports your taste buds across the globe. Instead of sticking to familiar, safe options, companies are embracing global flavors and international cuisine. Whether it’s a sushi bar, a Mexican fiesta, or a Mediterranean mezze spread, corporate catering is offering a diverse range of choices to cater to a diverse workforce. These international options are not only delicious but also a great conversation starter among employees with varying tastes and cultural backgrounds.

3. Interactive Food Stations: Food as Entertainment

Office catering is getting interactive! Gone are the days when food was simply served on trays. Now, it’s all about creating an experience. Interactive food stations are the latest craze, with live cooking stations, build-your-own-burger bars, and DIY dessert corners stealing the show. These setups engage employees, allowing them to customize their meals and socialize with colleagues while enjoying delicious food. It’s a surefire way to make any corporate event memorable.

4. Health-Conscious Choices

As health and wellness gain prominence in the corporate world, office catering in London trends is keeping pace. Businesses are increasingly offering nutritious and diet-friendly options to cater to employees who prioritize their well-being. You’ll find a wide range of salads, gluten-free, vegan, and low-carb choices on the menu. Nutrient-packed snacks and smoothie bars are also becoming staples of office catering, keeping employees energized and focused during long meetings and brainstorming sessions.

5. Personalized and Flexible Menus

One size doesn’t fit all when it comes to office catering. Companies recognize the importance of accommodating individual preferences and dietary restrictions. Customizable menus are now a norm, allowing employees to select their meals or tailor them to their liking. Whether you have a team member with a food allergy or someone following a specific diet, you can ensure everyone is satisfied with personalized options.Key Takeaway: How about impressing your colleagues with a cup of tea? We recommend booking afternoon tea delivery services in London with Owen Brother Catering. At affordable prices, they provide the best services in the industry. 

6. Technology Integration

Technology is revolutionizing the way we order and enjoy office catering. Online platforms and apps have made it easier than ever to place orders, customize menus, and track deliveries. Some companies even use data analytics to understand employee preferences and tailor their catering offerings accordingly.

Technology is also being harnessed to enhance the presentation of food, with digital menu boards and interactive displays becoming increasingly popular.

Wrapping Up

In conclusion, the world of corporate food is evolving at a rapid pace, and office catering is no exception. Sustainability, global flavors, interactive food stations, health-conscious choices, personalized menus, and technology integration are the hottest trends that are changing the way we eat at the workplace. By staying updated with these trends, companies can create a more engaging, inclusive, and enjoyable culinary experience for their employees and clients. After all, great food is not just about sustenance; it’s a recipe for success in the corporate world! So, go ahead and explore these trends to spice up your office catering game and keep everyone coming back for seconds.

[cybermoonmoon]

“...Yule”

The Yule is our pole star. One that the whole year revolves around. I remember back when cars were covered in chrome children could wander safely, and you could have TV in any color as long as it was black, and white. In that time before we planted flags into da Moon and Mars. When 'online' meant waiting to get into a movie. I remember Aunts, and Uncles tons of cousins' friends pouring into each other’s houses. These for the grand slams of Thanksgiving Christmas and the New Year.

Our House.

All dolled up with our traditional six-foot tree the aroma of cooking. Decorations some going back to the early 1900's mixed with flashy electrics of the then 50’s. Dad, and the uncles all gathered in the daddy corner yacking guy stuff. Work sports the army…WW2 recently over. That and what routes they took to get out here. Most came on Eisenhower's Interstates these still new. My Ma, and aunts communing in the kitchen. Going on about how them uncles drove 'em crazy who was graduating college and who was having a baby. Babies. I remember these showing up all the time. Endless new cousins even a new sister. 'Brownie' our doggo...still a puppy was under the table listening.  She listened for what’s coming our way. Then tips all the kids off. Good dog!

Presents.

Besides tearing the house and yard apart my siblings' cousins and I dreamed. We wondered at the neat stuff Santa had in store. Mostly. Still waiting for that dammed bike from 1959! Com'on Santa, you owe me. The Sears Roebuck Christmas catalogue was an instruction manual for Yule heaven. We thought Santa ran Sears...made sense at the time.

Feasts.

Before the age of fast-food gluttony folks only pigged out at Harvest and Yule. This was da deal till plastic burgers. Enter da Christmas Turkey aka Thanksgiving Turkey part two. ...hopefully a 'different' turkey. This rant morphs all the Holiday Season together as one long meal...because it was. There was static every of family has plenty but bleep it. It was Christmas the Yule. We was all gleefully stuck together in the weird but loving amber of family and friends. Like that Dickens guy said "...They were happy in each other's company."

The House. 

All gewgawed out. Collaged up for Christmas New Year's missed birthdays and efforts at peace offerings. Life is complicated. Lights bright decorations cards on every surface. The aroma of cooking filled every room. Near every house. While playing outside we could smell the turkeys' pies sauces everywhere on every street. Homelessness during the Depression but that was over. It's cruel return was decades away.   

Voices.

We sat all together...no kiddie table. We said grace meant it then the passing of food. All manner of wonders. Laughing the telling of stories. Bright symphonies of voices. Fights almost starting then fizzing out over cider. My new electric trains chasing itself around the tree. The tree rooted in joyful mayhem bright blinking it’s soul to heaven.  We were family we were friends we were together

Family.

My parents' aunts' uncles' friends were Depression Jim Crow, and WW2 folks. They made sure their kids had at least a taste of security. As my ma told me years later. She dad, and the others gave us our cousins everyone good memories on purpose. These to sustain us in our lives to come. They knew what desperation was, and what it did. They deliberately created good memories a sense of harmony despite everything. They so loved us.

Music. 

Family friends all played instruments. Before mass media and the digital era, it was common for folks to play their own music. Tell their own stories. In them days when ash trays were all over the place and integration was slowly becoming a good idea. Folks made their own art. Having instruments, and sheet music around da house was normal...as were manners.

Songs.

My dad played the piano assorted aunts uncles accompanied on violin and flute. We all of us sang Christmas carols and songs from the South...where my dad's folks came from. Island songs of my ma's side. They're Carribean via China. Hey we're Americans...mixed bag. We sang we loved and believed in each other our country…even G-d.

History.

Yule gatherings have been with us from the start. Observed around the world. It was nearly the first thing our species figured out...just after wheat and beer. Family friends through history in all cultures gather at certain points in the year for a reason. A kindly one. In times like now with divisions war plague it's even more important. Keep Love in your hearts. Bless you all. Be brave be safe be wise be kind.

[chubmins]

candy bear, sweetie pie (i wanna be adored)

cw: feederism, belly kink, weight gain, burping, brief mention of body image regarding jimin’s family, streamer!jimin. 

“hello there... it’s manggae.” 

jimin’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as he laid back on one of his hands and appraised the rapidly growing influx of messages on his live’s chat. they weren’t quick enough that jimin would lose track, but nowadays he would have to scroll back up to catch something he missed a few times. his audience had been growing. 

“you missed me? cute. it’s only been a week.” his full lips stretched in a smile his viewers would be able to see and fawn over. jimin always positioned himself carefully, camera catching him perfectly from the lips down — not because he didn’t want the audience to see his face, they had seen him a handful of times now, but because he wanted his body to be the main focus. 

and his body explained why his nickname on the streaming website was manggaetteok. 

jimin had always liked to eat. growing up in an extremely rich family, food had never been an issue — until it started being taken away from him by parents and nutritionists who believed his chubby cheeks were something to be ashamed of. jimin spent his teenage years on diets, pills and stinky gym bathrooms. he almost started hating his body as much as his parents did. 

until he moved out. was moved out, to be more precise — an apartment bought for him in the heart of gangnam, too big for just one person, way under-decorated to look like a homel. jimin was twenty and out of his parents' claws for the first time in his life. 

it didn’t take him more than a year to figure out the most crucial things about himself: he prefered boys over girls, silk robes and lace over black pressed suits, and he very much prefered to stay home and order food to going out to a new bar every friday night.

jimin turned into the perfect definition of a homebody; and, soon enough, of a foodie. 

he didn’t hold back when it came to food, and the results of his indulgence after years of restriction showed on his body rather quickly. at least his parents were right about one thing — he really was prone to gaining weight, and a lot of it. 

sitting now on the floor of one of the three bedroom’s in his apartment, the one he had slowly decorated to be his streaming studio, jimin weight gain is nothing if not noticeable. nicely placed down on his fluffy baby pink carpet with thighs spread as wide as they would go, his belly hanged almost touching the floor. it looks so soft and pudgy now, bulging forward in an almost perfect round dome even when it’s empty. he has pink stretch marks from the top of his jiggly thighs to right under his belly button, which has gotten deep enough for jimin to fit and poke his entire pinky finger inside. his flabby tits rest nicely on top of his swollen gut, round puffy nipples a pretty light brown on display. 

“remember when i’d dress up all cute and pretty for these lives?” jimin practically purred at the camera, both hands heading to his breasts so he could squeeze and jiggle them while chuckling. “my bras don’t fit me anymore… i need to buy new ones.” 

as if on cue, the silent notification bar that signaled new donations started popping up repeatedly, each time with a different amount of the website’s currency he’d get to convert to real money later. jimin chuckled again, he knew how to play this game too well. he had indeed grown out of most of his fancy silk and lace lingerie, but he also didn’t want to repeat the same ones he’d still fit into. that being said, he had decided on his fit for today as being a pair of baby blue silk shorts that barely covered his ass when he stood up, and a matching silk choker with a small emerald pendant.  

“well, well, look at that! seems like i’ll have some new lingerie to show you guys soon.” His hands moved away from his body before he could get too excited, and moved towards the tray he had off camera. 

with a little bit of maneuvering, he pulled the traw towards himself until it was in between his massive thighs and the camera, positioned just so that his body wouldn’t be too covered up and his belly would still be on display. 

“as you can see” jimin praticaly purred, “i followed your requests and got a full american breakfast. there are pancakes,” he pointed at each and every item as he spoke, mouth watering just thinking about how he was finally going to eat “eggs, sausages, muffins, bagels and a berry smoothie.” 

that was probably enough food to feed a family of four — the chat flooded with excited messages of how they couldn’t wait to see jimin eating it all. at first his viewers’ excitement would startle jimin a bit, but now? now he lived for it. 

after all, he’d always get as excited as them. 

“should i start with the pancakes? they’re still warm.” he asked, reading all the messages he could, all of which were encouraging him to start eating.

jimin reached for the pancakes. there were six of them in total, fluffy and golden brown with melted butter running down on all sides. jimin’s fork was quick to make work through the first three layers as he balanced the plate on top of his belly, and once the big bite was inside his lips he moaned unashamedly. 

“fuck… so good.” he barely finished chewing before he pushed more inside his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss. “i could eat this everyday. imagine how much bigger i’d get.” 

his viewers got off on that, as he came to learn very quickly after starting to stream himself eating. jimin’s primary goal certainly wasn’t to gain weight, but it did keep the cash coming and he didn’t mind the plushness one bit. just a small price to pay for all the food he shoved inside himself, and he did look hot with all the extra pounds. jimin continued to shove the pancakes inside his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing, moaning almost obscenely throughout the whole process. it didn’t take more than five minutes for him to polish the whole stack. 

“kinda wish i had ordered more” he pouted, putting the plate away and lightly slapping his still very empty gut. the donations started popping up again, messages telling him to order more right at that instant, to order ten times more next week. “don’t worry everyone, i still have a lot more to eat!” 

jimin reached for the bagels next — there were 9 of them in a box alongside 4 muffins of various flavours, and jimin had started alternating between them while answering some of his viewers questions. 

“last time i went on a date? that was a couple months ago, actually” he answered between bites of a blueberry muffin. “made him take me to an all you can eat buffet, ate like a pig. had to unzip my pants for dessert and all...” jimin licked his fingers clean, making a little show out of it before reaching for the last bagel and all but eating half of it in one big bite before continuing in a lighthearted tone, cheeks full. “probably freaked him out, he never called again.”

the story was only partially true — taehyung had taken him to an all you can eat buffet for their first date, but he also had called again. they were dating, in fact, but had made an arrangement to keep it from jimin’s subscribers. as much as jimin didn’t mind showing his body and face online for thousands to see, his private life remained private, and he was a firm believer that nobody needed to know his real name, the city he lived in or his relationship status. 

“i need something savory, now. those muffins were really sweet.” jimin sighed, taking a big sip from his berry smoothie. one of his chubby hands played with his belly, caressing around the belly button before lifting the fat mass and letting it fall, sighing at the way it jiggled back into place. the movement dislodged a gas bubble, and he could hear the gurgling noise coming up his throat and feel the pressure on his chest right before letting out a loud belch. 

“oh, yeah… that felt good.” another burp made its way out right then, shorter and deeper than the first one. jimin bit his lip and smiled, playing coy. “excuse me!” 

he reached for the eggs, three full plates with enough spicy sauce on top that it dripped down Jimin’s chin at his first bite. he didn’t clean it at first, too preoccupied with stuffing his face until he could barely chew with his mouth closed. jimin still had a few steps to take before he felt actually full, but his stomach definitely felt a little bit harder at the top, now. he ate the first two plates mostly in silence aside from the casual moans and loud slurps from the berry smoothie, lips feeling tingly and swollen from the spice. 

“you guys remember last time i ate this spicy sauce, right?” jimin smiled, going for the third and last plate. “that day with the ten hamburguers. i downed almost the entire bottle with them, got so gassy afterwards. couldn’t stop burping.” the memory makes his comment session go crazy, talking about how hot it was, how he should do it again. jimin chuckles, happy his viewers don’t mind how much of a pig he can be sometimes.

he continues eating, barely stopping to breathe — there’s still two dishes to get done with, and his stomach is starting to protest about the eggs he just ate.  

“hmm… tummy is talking, you guys hear that?” jimin all but shoves a finger inside his belly button, moving the digit around in a movement that could almost be considered obscene. he feels so good, exposed like this, stomach gurgling away the fullness.

the donations keep coming at a fast rate as jimin keeps eating, pace much slower than when he first started with the pancakes, lips greasy and adorned with crumbles. his hands find his belly a plethora of times, caressing the stretched out skin, pressing against the swelled up gut as he unashamedly lets out moans and sighs of pleasure. that’s how jimin, sooner rather than later, finds himself out of food to eat, only half of his smoothie left. 

“so full…” he groans, leaning back to expose his full, rounded out fat belly. it gurgles audibly then, jumping out in an abrupt movement as jimin’s lips fall open and he belches again, a long and wavering deep noise that sounds both disgusting and relieving. only then he reaches off camera for a tissue box, cleaning his fingers and then his lips and double chin, laughing as he spots some muffin crumbles on his chest and wipes them away carelessly. 

“that was so—” jimin is interrupted by a small burp, cheeks puffing up cutely. “so good. but i can’t help but feel like i could pack more in here.” he pats his belly kinda harshly, the slapping sound loud inside his room. “should i go for 10 pancakes next time? or maybe only have pancakes, a huge stack of them… ah, bet i could eat 20.” 

the chat is, as always, extremely encouraging. the donations start coming at a surprising speed again, some messages attached about how the money is for his future grocery trip and for him to buy double of everything. jimin bathes on the attention for a little longer, answering some questions while trying to soothe his ful, oversized belly, chuckling every now and then and pointing out the gurgling noises it makes as it tries to process all the food he just ate.

he was not lying, though — it does feel like he could pack more if he tried. but that’s a thought for next time, and jimin stores it for next week’s stream as he bids goodbye and claims it’s time for him to get into his food coma and digest so he can come back even fatter. 

“this has been manggae… until next time, guys!”

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part 13

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem! Reader Warnings: Talk of parent death Length: 2.1k words Notes: Okay bitches here we go. I’ve got 3 kids doing online schooling, a desk chair that just broke while I was halfway through typing this out, a raging headache, and couldn’t be fucked to edit. I love you al, thank you for sticking with me and this little brain baby of mine. My guidance counselor from high school can suck my dick, “You’re not a creative writer, Cher, you should considering taking Home Ec as an elective instead” I digress....

Series Masterlist

"No." You glared at him and squeezed his hand harder, "You're doing that thing again.

Frankie's head whipped over to stare at you, shocked by your assertive tone.

"You're pulling away. You're stressed, out of your depth, don't know how to deal with it and so you're pulling away again-"

"You don't understand," Frankie interrupted you, shaking his head and trying to pull his hands out of your grasp. This only served to strengthen your resolve, and your grip on him.

"No." You declare again, trying to stay calm and have a mature conversation despite the tension and running emotions. "You told me to give you time to get your thoughts straight and vocalized. I can't do that if I'm not here to hear them. I can't understand your predicament if I leave. So," You moved so you're sitting cross-legged in front of him, making eye contact in an effort to show him he had your full attention. "Why don't you tell me what that phone call was about so we can start figuring it out, together."

The situation was more complex than you ever could have imagined. Frankie's ex-wife, Karla, had died. Her car had been hit by a drunk driver. Annie, thank the gods, hadn't been in the car at the time. Before she'd died at the hospital, Karla had managed to say a few words to the paramedics. At the time they didn't make sense, however, the paramedic had taken the time to write the words down and included the scrap of paper with the patient's chart. This evidence, as it turned out, had been monumental during the resulting legal battle for Annie, all of which took place without Frankie even being notified.

Child services, lawyers, extended family, and even doctors had been involved in the court proceedings. All arguing over the future of the six-year-old girl. All believing that they knew what was best for her, most believing that she should live with them, some having the gall to pretend that they weren't aware of the sizable life insurance payout she was about to receive.

Eight words. Eight simple, beautiful words whispered through the broken, bloody lips of a woman who knew she was about to die. A young girl's future was being held in suspense, and as fate would have it, a wise and sentimental judge was overseeing her case. Eight words were all it took to convince him that Annie's mother knew what was best for her own child.

"Francisco Morales. Trust with her, he's ready now."

From the time Frankie had received the phone call from Karla's family lawyer, the two of you had two days to prepare for Annie's arrival. Frankie worked his magic and erected a wall across the bedroom portion of his loft, allowing for the little girl to have some privacy but not feel like she was being closed in. 

He had fretted for a least twenty five minutes over colour swatches at Hank’s Hardware before coming to the conclusion that he should leave it white and have Annie chose her room colours once she had settled in. He bought himself a new couch, as well, that would convert into a bed and serve as his bedroom for the time being.

The conversation you never had a chance to have with him was still in the back of your mind, but you understood that moving in together as a couple was hard enough. Moving in together with a kid neither of you knew, whose life had just been turned upside down against her will, would be catastrophic. Instead, you focused on being as much of a rock for Frankie as you could.

You made a trip to the city and bought girls bedding, some stuffed animals, and a few little decorations to help Annie feel like the new space was special for her. You also thought to pick up comfort food that a kid might crave, knowing that when you were six the best way to your heart was chocolate. Just before you left the city, a sign caught your attention and had you swerving to change lanes, normally you'd feel slightly bad about your obnoxious driving but today you just waved your middle finger at the rear window in a mock salute.

The flower shop had so many bouquets and you had no idea what kind of flowers the little girl might like. You also had the morbid realization that bouquets might remind her of all the flowers she surely saw at Karla's funeral. Just as you began to second guess yourself, a stand near the back caught your eye and made you smile.

The day of her arrival came quicker than you felt prepared for, never mind how Frankie must be feeling. He hadn't had too much time to worry about how having his daughter would change his life, but once the two of you were standing in his driveway doing nothing but waiting, the nerves had finally settled in. You could see deep, calming breaths he was taking as they condensed into little clouds in the freezing air.

Grabbing his clenched fist, you felt his fingers relax enough to allow your gloved ones to slide through them.

"It's going to be weird for everyone, she's probably nervous too." You weren't sure if the words were reassuring or not but nervous talking seemed to be your forte so you ran with it. "I mean, she's probably sad that she's leaving everything and everyone she's always known, excited about moving to a new place, then feeling bad that she's feeling another emotion besides grief. It can be hard to juggle loss and hope. Just show her how much you love her and be honest about why you couldn't be with her before. Kids are smart and are aware of way more than adults give them credit for."

A few moments later a black sedan slowly crept up the driveway. You wanted to stay, to meet the little girl but had the feeling that Annie and Frankie were going to need time to figure out their relationship without another person in the mix. Suddenly having a new parent was going to be hard enough on the little girl, you were afraid that she might see you as trying to replace her mom and push you away.

Rubbing Frankie's back for one last show of reassurance, you kissed his shoulder then took a few steps back. You figured this was the best way to be there to support him but also staying in the background for the time being. Before the car could fully come to a stop, the rear door was flying open and, in a blur of movement, a little body was flying out of it towards Frankie. You know how people will say that there are times in their lives where important moments fly by so fast they barely have time to enjoy them? Well, this wasn't one of them.

As Annie barreled her way towards Frankie, you saw in slow motion how his handsome face went from being creased with worry, to eyebrow raised shock, to breaking out in a teary smile. He had just begun to crouch down and open his arms in anticipation of holding his little girl when instead she ran right past him and locked herself in one of the sheds.

Time continued to move in slow motion, making it all the more heartbreaking watching your boyfriend's face crumple, the tears of joy turn to tears of pain as he recovered from his initial excitement and realized that his child didn't want to see him.

Tiny, muffled sobs broke the moment and brought time, and the horrible situation, back into focus. The Child Protective Services worker who had accompanied Annie from California was calling apologies to Frankie while running after the little girl, trying not to slip in the snow in her hurry.

You wanted to go to him, to lend him some form of comfort, but you were also aware that some types of grief don't appreciate witnesses. Deciding to stick around and be helpful in the background, you made your way into the loft and started making coffee and sandwiches, foreseeing a longer stay for the caseworker than initially thought.

Nearly forty minutes had passed before you emerged again with food and drinks on a tray and the two adults were still talking to Annie through the cracks in the door. She had stubbornly refused to come out, demanding that she be returned to her home at once and that she hated snow.

Once you had set down the tray and cleared the snow off a picnic table, Frankie thanked you with a kiss to your temple and introduced you to Sharon after he convinced her to take a break from the negotiations. Sharon, who had been with Annie since the day of the accident, began filling Frankie in on what had happened to his daughter in the past month between sips of coffee. He was given a folder with notes from child psychologists, doctors, a letter from her maternal grandparents, and a journal Sharon had kept that described the ways Annie had been processing her grief.

While they talked, you decided to walk over and sit next to the door of the shed, laying a wool blanket down to protect your butt from the cold. You had no idea what to say to the girl but you figured she might like to be reassured she wasn't alone. Settling down, you dug into your own sandwich and hummed quietly to yourself.

You nearly choked on your next bite when you heard a soft voice singing along with the tune you'd chosen.

"Lavender blue, dilly dilly. Rosemary Green, if you are king dilly dilly, I'll be your queen."

After you'd repeated the song twice more, you stopped the tune and said softly,

"I've never heard those lyrics before, they're different from how I learned them."

A long pause followed, making you worry that you'd offended the child back into silence.

"How do you sing it?" Came the sweetest little voice, made all the more adorable with the barest hint of a lisp.

"We always sang, 'Lavender green', for one. Which never made any sense to me so I really like how you did it-"

"Yeah, cause lavender is another name for purple," she interrupted you with a matter-of-fact tone, "saying it's green is just weird!"

"Hmmm, it might be different," you conceded, seeing the opportunity for a lesson. "But either way you sing it, it's still a really pretty song, isn't it? Things can be different but it doesn't mean one is only good and one is only bad. Each version just had different good things."

Annie went silent again but this time you didn't worry about it, you knew she was thinking about what you said and needed time to apply it to what was happening right now. You eventually heard the shifting of metal and the creak of wood and had to will yourself to sit still and calm. The way you had let her approach you had worked so far, jumping up out of excitement could possibly erase all the progress you'd made so far.

Your patience was rewarded when Annie stepped out of the shed and lowered herself so that she was sitting on the blanket right next to you. Turning your head just enough to see her in your peripheral, you noticed how dull her eyes looked. Her hair was a mess and her skin looked pale for a kid who had been living under California's sun.

"My mommy is dead."

The way it was stated as a fact, with very little emotion, broke your heart. She was so little, so young, and so unable to fully grasp what kind of future had been ripped away from her.

"I know, I'm sorry that that happened to your mom."

"That man is my daddy." She was pointing at Frankie now, who was still engrossed in his conversation with Sharon.

"He's a pretty lucky guy to have you."

"That's the lady who has been taking care of me, she's been nice."

You were a bit out of your comfort zone with the conversation but there was no way in hell you were going drop it so you cautiously trudged on. Maybe verbalizing relationships and titles was helping her process?

"I'm very happy to hear that you've been staying with someone nice. Your dad is a really nice person, too, ya know? You should see the nice bedroom he's set up for you! I even helped him bake you an apple pie. Do you like apples? Or pie?" Her eyes went wide and a spark of happiness suddenly lit her face, making her appear more childlike than before.

"Is this an apple farm?" She practically squealed. “Like in My Little Pony?!”

Her outburst had finally drawn the attention of the other two adults, who were now only realizing that Annie had exited the shed. Frankie's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his two girls, beaming at each other. The twinge of jealousy from knowing that it had been you to draw her out was quickly squashed by how proud of you he was. He had been a little worried, although he hadn't voiced it, that his kid wouldn't take kindly to having a woman around but those fears were obviously for naught.

Part Fourteen 

[tastyykpop]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

•pairings: enemy, barista and student!jaemin x student and barista!reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

<next>

•warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, crying kink, hair pulling, choking, small praising, small size kink, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification (sexual and non sexual use) nanas kinda mean :( but gets a lil nicer :), jaemin refers to himself as nana a lot mostly when they do the dirty, bulging kink, pet names (princess, baby, baby girl, little girl, pretty girl), unprotected sex (please be safe), slight face slapping (he slaps her once), rough sex clearly, some sexual tension, I hope i got everything

You were fuming!

The boy in front of you not even batting an eyelash, just laughing at the mess dripping down your face.

You smelt like an iced americano.

People around you held their hands to their mouths in shock and others tried to hold back their laughter. Some even pointed at you or gave sympathetic looks.

It wasnt like people were surprised anymore. Jaemin always had something up his sleeve for you. But he never went as far as pouring his coffee on you.

"Aw poor baby. Do you need a napkin?" He faked sympathy with a pout and his friends began laughing. You just got up and walk by them, making sure to bump into jaemins shoulder on your way through.

It was almost everyday that Jaemin would do something so uncalled for. It was like he was made to push your buttons. Even as you're walking out of the college building, you can still hear the boy laughing at you. Or maybe it was the other students. Either way, you wanted to kill him.

As you trudged towards your car, a sense of relief washed over you. A great happiness that only comes when you finished your classes and could go home. Only this happiness stayed for a good 2 hours until you have to go to your part time job at the cafe with your favorite person of course. But its not like you can quit. You need the money so you can live and get the education you need, no matter how hard it is being with him.

It was then when you sat in your car and the squishing in the seat made your face curl into a scowl, only made you think of ways to get away with murder. It was gross really. The seats were sticky, plus your hair and clothes were sticking to you like lip gloss. A shower would be perfect right about now.

"Hi y- oh..." Your roommate, jimin, stared at your messy state. Giving you a good up and down before shrugging his shoulders, "jaemin?"

You sighed, walking over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, "Who else? Its always him."

Jimin gave you a small smile and came closer as if ready to hug you but didn't because he didn't want to get sticky. "You know, maybe you should quit that job."

"No."

He groaned and snatched the water that you were about to sip, "Why? You'd only see jaemin in school. And you wouldnt have to stick with his bickering in work." He huffed, shaking his head, "Girls are so difficult sometimes."

You tried leaping up to grab the bottle from jimin, but all he did was hold it above his head. You stomped on his foot in return. Jimin huddled over and you snatched the bottle, smirking with victory as you put it to your lips.

"You fucking snake." Jimin hissed in pain.

A laugh fell from your lips as you walked by him, completely ignoring his words and his pain, "Im gonna take a shower."

Once you got to your room, the first thing you did was grab your work clothes, a towel, and underwear and got ready for the warm shower.

After you switched on the water and let it heat up, you stepped in and immediately felt at peace as the water cascaded over your body, cleaning off the almost dried coffee. Your hair felt lighter, like a feather and your fingers could now slip through the strands easily without an issue. The scent of your body wash overpowered the coffee smell and you felt much better. Water, soap, and coffee were beginning to fill the drain as you finished washing up. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the murky water. What a bastard.

For once you were actually happy to wear your work clothes after what had happened earlier. The clothes actually felt comfortable and jimin was becoming more and more confused as to why you were hugging yourself with a huge smile on the couch.

"No one should be that happy after a shower." He started flipping through channels on the t.v.

"Dont tell me how to feel, I dont smell like jaemins coffee anymore." You gushed overdramtically. Jimin could only role his eyes.

"Please...you act like he's a demon of some sort."

You squinted your eyes at jimin and flared your nostrils, "he is. Hes a nasty, dumb, annoying, self centered-"

"Okay okay I get it! You hate jaemin! The funny thing is you can never get his name out of your mouth." Everything stopped and your head snapped in jimins directions.

"What are you saying?" A frown found itself on your face, jimin leaned closer.

"Im saying that maybe you might like him."

You shrieked in disgust, blocking your ears with your hands. Jimin laughed at your reaction. Almost falling off the couch in the process. "Ew! Gross! Why would you even think that!"

"Like I said, you can never get his name out of your mouth. I think its pretty obvious you like him." He was still giggling at you except your face was anything but happy, more grossed out at how he thought you could like such a person

"I can't stand you. I'm leaving for work." You stood up and jimin did nothing to stop you from going. Even though you still had about 15 minutes until you normally leave. "Ill be back at 9." The door slammed behind you, leaving jimin alone with another laughing fit.

You got in the car and drove off to your work, still trying to come up with a reason as to why jimin is saying all this. Sure maybe you talk about jaemin a little lot but that doesn't mean you like him. Its very much the opposite and jimin should know that. It only frustrates you the more you think about it. Liking someone like jaemin? Please. That would be your nightmare.

As you pulled up to the cafe, there were only a few other cars parked. Few were from other workers but the majority were most like customers or people just trying to get a free parking space. Lucky for you, there were many open spaces, unlike when you come later and they're filled. Maybe leaving earlier wasnt such a bad idea. It saved you the 3 minute walk.

"Y/n! You're just on time!" One of your coworkers, irene, called out as you stepped inside the shop. "We need help back here!" You had no time to even begin to say your shift hasn't started yet when irene took you by the hand and dragged you to where the coffee was being made. "We have a bunch of online orders coming in so can you please help us with the coffee and food?" She tossed you a brown apron for you to put on and you nodded, trying to get your brain to speed up with everything in the world.

It was so quiet when you walked in that you never even realized that the back was busy. Coffee cups were filled and put into trays for orders, food was being heated or baked. It was a chaotic place right now and all you could do was help. So as fast as you could, you began with the first order on the screen. A large mocha with extra extra sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate curls. Easy enough you thought as you reached for a cup but a hand beat you to it.

Your eyes looked up at the person in front of you and just when you thought everything was going fine, it wasn't, "What are you doing here so early?" You asked bitterly.

"I always come in early. What are you doing here so early?" Jaemin asked whilst holding a death grip on the cup.

"Just felt like coming early." You muttered, watching as jaemin turned away with a scoff, quickly cutting the conversation short. "Bastard."

Jaemin was busy making what you were originally going to do, so you looked for another order to get ready. It was just two cake pops and a small strawberry banana smoothie. Something you've been craving recently from the lack of sweetness and fruit in your day to day life.

The cake pops and smoothie were quick to make and were soon sent off to the customer. You happily beamed and wished them good day once they left.

After then there was a familiar face with a friend right next to him, he was quite handsome you must say. He was indeed so handsome that he just looked unreal. "Hey jimin. Whose this?" You nodded towards the bright black haired man.

"This is taemin! He wanted some coffee so I brought him- hey stop staring at him!" Jimin snapped you out of your trance and taemin chuckled.

"Its okay shes cute." He eye smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. He's definitely not real.

Jimin tsk'd, "Until you get to know her."

"Yeah yeah... whatever." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to what he just said.

They both ordered and took a seat next to the window. You were still staring at taemin with your head in your hand until someone tapped your shoulder, "Who are they?" Jaemins voice rang in your ears, making you stand up straight.

"Thats my roommate, jimin, and his friend taemin." You glanced back at the boys, mainly at taemin and just stared like he was your first crush.

"Quit staring your gonna scare him away." Jaemin said earning himself a chuckle from you.

You stuck your tongue out, "He called me cute."

The boy smirked from ear to ear and leaned in close to your face, "He was lying." You grumbled and pushed him away from you, getting annoyed by his presence very quickly.

"Jaemin and y/n, get back to work we have orders to do!" Irene called out. Both of you quickly returning to your stations and getting things ready.

"Look at him. Hes basically waiting for me to come over to him." Seulgi, another person in this school you dispise, said as she looked at jaemin in the back of the room. She wasn't very quiet either considering you were only a few seats away from him. So it only meant that jaemin could hear her, but chose to ignore it. Typical boy.

"Honestly. He looks so good today too." Sana, her best friend, commented.

"Oh and did you hear what he was planning on doing today to y/n? Apparently he's gonna-"

"Class get back in your seats, we have much to discuss." The professor stood in the front of the class. Everyone shifted and moved to their appropriate places and waited for the teacher to begin. Unlike you, who was wondering what seulgi was going to say next. If its something worse than coffee being poured on your head, you may just have to bury yourself six feet under after this.

As you were taking notes something flung towards your head and hit you on the side, looking over was jaemin with a smirk was he held his fingers in a sling shot shape. A rubber band was laying on your lap. Then another one. One even hit your cheek creating a small smack sound as you winced in pain. Oh you desperately wanted to get out of this seat and punch the boy in the face.

"Excuse me sir!" You called out, raising your head. The whole class looked at you and your cheeks began to heat up. "May i go to the restroom?" The professor nodded and you headed out. Not until you stopped in your tracks from a loud smack to your butt, causing the whole class to turn around again.

Jaemin was enjoying this, the way you stared at him with wide eyes and open mouth, made him just want to do it again. He never thought this reaction from you would be so entertaining and he tried his best not show it, with only a small smirk covering his face.

You rushed out of the room, faster than ever and leaned against the nearest surface you could find. Not only were you questioning reality, but also why jaemin just did that.

"That little bitch." You said to yourself as you paced back and forth in the hallway, staring at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Jaemin voice rang in your ears as you looked up with a angry red face. Steam was even coming out of your ears and nose. "Did you just call nana a bitch?" He put his hands to his chest and pouted, "Little girl you need to learn some manners." Jaemin tilted his head to the side and began walking forward.

"Shut up." You had nothing else to say as you grit your teeth, looking at the ground.

Jaemin didnt like that and grabbed the back of your neck to make you look at him, "What? Did your stupid head stop thinking? Your normally so chatty for nana what happened?"

"Jaemin i-" you cut yourself off as you felt jaemin grip the back of your neck tighter causing you to moan in pain.

"Stupid girl." Jaemin whispered, forcefully pushing you away. It was not strong enough to make you fall but at least stumble.

You glowered, earning yourself a chuckle from him. "What will it take for you to leave me alone!?"

"Bring this to table 15 please! Thanks!" Irene smiled as she handed you a small cup of iced coffee and you took it, taking it to its designated place. What you didn't except was to see taemin again, gleaming up at you.

"Hi y/n." He smiled and you tried to remain calm.

God how is someone so beautiful?

"Hey, I didnt except you to come back." You returned the warm smile and started to play with the apron around your waist.

Taemin giggled, "I actually quite like this place, its cozy." He began to take a sip from the straw, eyes still trained on you. If only you weren't so awkward with him, you wouldve found something to say other than staring at him and indulging in the beauty before you. But lucky for you someone behind the counter called for you, quickly averting your attention back to work.

The next order was a shake, so you grabbed the correct ingredients and began using the blendor, when someone came next to you, doing the same thing "You seem like your having fun flirting around." The unwanted conversation with jaemin began, "makes nana kind of jealous."

"Hm funny." You ignored him and continued blending the ice cream.

Jaemin casually rolled his eyes and glanced down at your nonchalant face before returning back to the blender, "you know you really do piss me off."

You sneered and snickered to yourself, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was thinking of fucking you dumb or until you know your place but maybe thats a bit too rewarding."

The cup was removed and set aside from the blender with your hands placed on your hips, "Im sorry what?"

"Did I stutter?" Jaemin raised an eyebrow and also put the cup down. You went silent, not knowing whether or not to just laugh it off or quickly run away. "And I'm still waiting on my apology."

"One, I am not going to apologize to your bitchy ass. Two, even if I did let you, you could never 'fuck me dumb', it just wouldn't happen. Now stop trying to get in my pants."

Jaemin opened then closed his mouth about to say something, but didn't and just put on a sweet smile, "Go take these to table 7 for nana." He said like he was testing yoj.

"Why? You made them."

"Nana told you to do something little girl, now do it." Jaemins sweet smile was still plastered on his face yet it intimidated you enough to do as he said.

Taemin was long gone when you walked out and you were kind of sad as you weren't able to say goodbye before he left. You placed the shake down on the table and was ready to walk away when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n? You work here?" Seulgis voice spoke as you turned around. Both her and sana were looking at you with shit eating grins.

"Doesn't jaemin also work here seulgi?" Sana asked the girl in front of her and seulgi looked as if she got the brightest idea.

"Oh yeah! Y/n can you get jaemin over here? Pretty please?" She asked sweetly yet with a hint of sourness and you listened, not feeling like ignoring her at the moment.

You told jaemin that seulgi and sana were out front looking for him and he nonchalantly went out without question. Leaving you to do some of the work alone, which you didn't mind considering its jaemin, the annoying bastard who won't leave you alone, but he does help you whenever you need it. And right now, it was a bit busy, and you needed it.

After doing 4 more online orders and sending them off through the driveway, jaemin finally came back with a scowl on his face looking ready to beat someone up. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" He raised his voice only loud enough for you to hear. But you were quite confused on what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

Jaemin groaned, "I knew you were fucking dumb but come on y/n! Why is seulgi covered in the shake i gave you?"

You paused for a moment, unable to answer that. Is he assuming you spilt her shake on her? Why would you even do that in the first place. Yeah you don't like her, but you're not going to stoop to her or his level. "I dont know."

He slammed his hand on the wall near your head, startling you a bit, "You dont know huh?" You shook your head slowly. "Seulgi and sana both said you purposefully spilt the shake on seulgi. Now answer me honestly. Is that true?" You shook your head again, feeling really small and helpless under his strong gaze.

"I-i didnt spill t-the skake." You muttered quietly.

He inhaled sharply, "Then who did huh? Or maybe you don't know because you're so dumb."

"S-stop..." you frowned, looking down at floor, but jaemin had other plans and made you look up at him. A single tear slide down your cheek and you swear you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Tell nana what happened." His voice became softer as he swiped away the stray tear on your face.

You huffed, still afraid that he'd do something to you although you knew he wouldnt purposely cause you pain. "W-well she asked me to go get you, which I did, a-and her shake was perfectly fine when I left."

"Are you saying she purposely spilt the shake on herself to make me angry at you?"

"Y-yes."

"Ill believe my little girl for now, but if I find out you are lying, you will be in big trouble got that?" Jaemin lifted his hand off the wall and proceeded to walk back out of the room. Leaving you shocked at his words and still frightened by an angry jaemin.

You went to the cash register once jaemin left to get ready to count the bills until you heard jaemin and seulgi arguing. Lucky for them, no one but you and him were working right now. Irene went home earlier and the normal crew always leave around 6:30, leaving just you and jaemin.

"It was only a prank nana. No need to get so worked up. And besides you didn't even prank her today, be glad I did for you." Seulgi said smiling at the boy in front of her.

Jaemin physically cringed when he heard his nickname roll off her tongue, "you didn't have to do that."

You stood there watching, astonished how jaemin was standing up for you. Hes supposed to hate you. Jaemin didn't even bother going with the girls when they offered him a ride, instead he stayed with you and even helped close. Something he normally doesn't do because he leaves before you and gives you all the hard things to do.

"Hurry up and finish." Jaemin spoke. A little bit of anger still laced in his voice.

"Whats your rush?"

He sighed, "I wanna go home. Plus I can't stand this place right now. I'm pissed."

You finished wiping down that last table and walked over to him, "Just go home then."

"Not without you."

You gave him a dirty look, "im not going home with you."

Jaemin leaned down, his face only inches from yours and whispered, "Remember what I said earlier hm? I wanna fuck you dumb." He then grabbed your waist bringing you closer to him, if that was possible, "Can I do that pretty girl? Can nana fuck you so hard you won't even remember anything but my cock?" You were so lost in your mind that everything became a blur. Jaemins words sounded so sweet but were so lewd. And you were so close to kissing him until he put his finger on your lips, "But you have to wait." You frowned and were only getting more angry by the second. You went from not wanting anything to do with jaemin to just about ready to beg him to kiss you. Was it that easy for him to get in your head? Or were you so sex deprived that now jaemin seemed somewhat interesting?

You laid on jaemins bed getting bored with the constant teasing. He never did anything but that. Jaemin would get close to your lips and back away as you chased him. Hed chuckle and coo at you for being so desperate. But that wasn't the point of all the teasing. He really just wanted you to beg him to kiss you. No words will come out of his mouth telling you to beg, he just excepted it to happen sooner or later. But youre too stubborn to do so, so you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, catching him by surprise.

Jaemins hands gripped your wrists and pulled them off his face, pinning them to the bed, "You didnt even ask to kiss me." Jaemin pulled away, raising his eyebrow high, "Dont you think thats a bit mean."

"So was teasing me, but I let you continue." You huffed, trying to free your wrists from his death grip but it was no use.

"You dont have a say on whether i continue or not. I'm in charge here and you take what I give you, understand?" You rolled your eyes. It was your intention to make jaemin angry. You wanted to push his buttons.

What you didnt know was that not answering jaemin correctly would earn you a slap to the face. And jaemin was not even fazed by it.

"Dont roll your eyes and answer nana." Jaemin smiled. "Can you say 'yes nana'?"

"Y-yes nana."

"Good girl." Jaemin muttered and began slowly kissing your jawline down to your neck, sucking here and there creating shades of purple and red marks. Oh how he loved the marks he was leaving.

You so desperately wanted to grip onto jaemins hair and pull it but he never budged his hands, only tightening his grasps. As he continued attacking your neck, you began to lift your hips up to get some sort friction. Jaemin noticed and shifted so that his thigh was in between your legs and rubbing against your clothed core. A spew of quiet moans left your lips but you wanted more. Jaemin was going to soft and slow for your liking.

"I thought you were going to fuck me dumb?" You said and jaemin lifted his head to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Patience baby. You aren't ready yet." He let go of your wrists and took your shirt off. The cold air made you shiver and jaemin chuckled. "I wanna make you cum at least 2 times before I fuck you."

"Then stop talking and do it." You replied, pushing your hips up to rub against his thigh, but they were pushed back down on the bed.

"Didnt I say to take what I give you?" Your head slowly moved up and down and jaemin smiled, "so why arent you happy with what nana gives you?"

"I want more..." you sighed as he started to slide your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. His mouth slowly started kissing your inner thighs and you could feel your heat dripping with anticipation. You whined for more but only got a slap to the thigh telling you to be quiet. Needless to say you didn't listen and continued to try to get him closer to where you needed him most but pulling his hair.

Jaemin groaned grabbing your wrist again and pushed it away roughly. His patience was wearing out. You were more stubborn than he thought, but that doesn't mean he can't still break you. "Next time you do that, I'll flip you over and beat your ass till its purple." Your breath hitched and as much as you were tempted, you wanted to be able to sit for a few days so you stayed put and kept your hands to yourself.

But the desperation was getting to you and you wanted relief which jaemin wasnt giving you until you felt his two fingers circling around your clit. "P-please jaemin." You moaned as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. Then soon enough he stuck two fingers inside you. Your pussy automatically clenching around his digits as he moved at a steady in and out pace.

It felt so good. His fingers felt so good. They made your body twist in pleasure as more moans left your mouth. Jaemin was watching your face closely as it contorted with pleasure. He loved seeing your eyebrows bunched together, so focused on the way his fingers worked inside you.

"My pretty slut. Taking nanas fingers so well." He gushed, still watching your face. Jaemin could feel himself get even more painfully hard but he didn't want to fuck you just yet. He meant it when he said he wanted you to cum 2 times. So he picked up the speed with his fingers, your hands landing on his forearm that was resting on near your hip. "Are you gonna cum for nana princess?"

You frantically nodded your head as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel your cum leak out of you as jaemin leaned down and began eating away at your cunt.

"J-jaemin! So...go-good!" Your head flew back as his tongue sucked on your clit and a loud moan filled the room.

Jaemin smirked against your heat, "I haven't even fucked you yet and your already sounding like a dumb whore. Its so easy to break you princess."

"N-no its j-ju-...." you whimpered as your brain wasnt even trying to help you function right. His tongue was extraordinary. "Mmmm."

"Aw my dumb little princess is so cute." He muttered diving back into lapping at your soaked cunt. It was almost as if on cue and without warning, you were cumming again. Jaemins hasty tongue took it all. Groaning at the taste of you in his mouth.

He sat up over you, grabbing your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue. Deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of his hair, jaemin couldnt help but moan a bit as his cock brushed against your thigh. He felt big. Bigger than the few guys you've been with and you were ecstatic.

You tugged on jaemins pants and shirt as a way to tell him to take them off and he did after getting off of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. His abs were more defined than you thought and when his cock sprung free, your mouth started watering. Jaemins smirk only grew watching you stare. He was starting to get cocky

"What? You wanna suck my cock?" Jaemin asked sweetly.

"Yes please." You reached over to try and touch him but he didn't allow you. And smacked your hand away. It was a way for him to tease you and you hated it.

"So kind for nana now. Ealier you were so cock hungry that you decided to be a brat. Did nana finally break you?" Jaemin whispered as he moved a piece of hair out of your face, looking at you with fill admiration.

"No you didn't break me. But I wanna suck you off." You whined as jaemin picked you up and sat you just above his cock, the tip teasing at your entrance.

"Too bad. Now I want you to sit." Jaemin said looking into your eyes. You obeyed with a little hesitation. His cock was surely going to hurt you so you took it slowly and started lowering your hips. "Fuck...thats a good girl." Jaemin praised, watching his cock dissappear between your legs and your tummy get full with his cock. "My baby's so tiny you can see my cock in your belly." He said, pushing down on the area where he was imprinted in you.

Slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. You were wet enough that he could easily slide in and out with no problem.

Jaemins head fell back as he sighed with relief, grunting as you picked up the pace, "So tight for nana." He whispered and you moaned back loudly. His cock stretched every inch of you to the point where it felt like you'd split.

"More more more." You whined against jaemins neck, gripping his shoulders tightly. Carefully jaemin flipped you both over so he was on top and continued pounding into your destroyed cunt. He kept a hand around your neck squeezing it every so often as a choked out moan left your throat.

His cock was so deep and fast that you couldn't think straight. You kept blabbering about his cock. Only thing on your mind was how nice he felt inside you. Jaemin bit his lip as he smirked at you, grabbing your hair and bringing your face close to his, "Now will you admit that I fucked you dumb and say your nanas dumb slut?"

"Y-yes, I'm na-nanas dumb sl-slut." You cried, tears falling down your face from how good he felt inside and if you thought jaemin couldn't go any faster, he did. His thrusts were hard and rough, sure enough to hurt your thighs tomorrow as he pounded relentlessly. "So close." Your voice came out choked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You held on to jaemins hand that was on your neck as he helped you with your orgasm.

Jaemin wasnt far behind you with his and groaned loudly, "fuck, where do you want it princess?"

"I-inside." You moaned as the feeling of hot cum was shot inside you. Jaemins hips kept moving him through his orgasm until he slowly came to a stop. Both of you panted loudly, there were even a few tears falling down your cheek here and there.

Jaemin slowly pulled out, making sure not to hurt you, and he laid beside you. "You did so well." He kissed your forehead. "Cmon ill carry you to bathroom so we can take a bath." He said picking up your worn out naked figure with so much care. Making you forget he was your enemy.

[fullycakedup-brownie]

Thank you, lemonheads

Disclaimer: non-pandemic AU; winter setting; fluff; a pinch of spice to make everything nice; swearing; Length: 3906 words; Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen AU; Characters: Yuuji/Sukuna x Black!Fem!Reader

The alarm did not go off at 7 am since it was Saturday, yet your eyes have been wide open for about one hour. The sun rays brought light on the ashy winter sky and you lazily shifted in your bed to check the time. How is it only 7:47 while I feel I’ve been laying here forever? You asked yourself in a deep sigh before you threw away the blanket and sat up on the edge of the bed. A life-saving decision you had taken the night before when you braided your hair, for not a single molecule in your body was able to deal with those shoulder-length thick curls after you wasted your night staring at the ceiling. Your body has developed a habit to wake up around 1 am for no particular reason and have you losing your mind over it. Usually, you managed to fall back asleep quickly, but that night between Friday and Saturday you just couldn’t. No one was online on any social media platform, you knew it would take you more time than available to pick one of the thirty million shows that you wanted to catch up on and you didn’t want to fuck up your night completely, so you forced yourself back into slumber. But now it was morning, your eyes tired and your body heavy.

With your mind set on still having a wonderful free weekend, you rummaged through the cabinets in the lovely apartment you had been thrilled to finally afford, in a futile attempt to grab a bite. You breathed deeply while counting down from ten after finding exactly half of a package of Lemonheads and some leftover seafood on a plate in the fridge. The initial plan was abandoned with the calamari as you headed for the bathroom, knowing for a fact that a nice scrubbing session during a dangerously hot shower will whoosh away all the fatigue and annoyance.

Fresh smell, moisturized gleaming skin, proud dark-brown eyes staring at you from the mirror made you put on a cheeky smile and leave the bathroom barefoot. One step into your bedroom and your stomach almost shouted at you. Ah, I do gotta eat something. McDonald’s it is, then. You were quick to agree to yourself and also to get dressed and leave the house. It has been snowing for a few days so the pavements were covered in a dense layer of white wonder, which made you decide to walk to the breakfast provider, instead of driving there. It wasn’t that far and you also loved the city landscapes.

The neon-yellow combat boots contrasted considerably with the red coat and drew the attention of the entire crowd inside McDonald’s, including one specific young man that was sitting alone at a table in the back. He watched your silhouette walk by a group of boys that didn’t even try to mask their reaction to your looks as you headed to the line to place your order.

“Even I know that it’s not nice to stare,” Sukuna talked all of a sudden, startling poor Itadori and causing him to sink his head deeper in the hood.

“Shut up, someone could hear you,” the boy whispered, looking down on his tray to avoid being heard by other customers.

“Is that the girl you’ve been going on about lately?”

“What girl? There’s no girl. What girl?” Yuuji panicked a bit, the heart racing in his chest letting Sukuna know he was right. Again.

“It’s not that hard. Just go there, what the fuck are you so scared about?” The otherwise thoughtless demon cared to push his host up on his feet.

Swallowing his anxiety along with the gallon of saliva in his mouth, Yuuji left his table, threw the sandwich’s wrapping paper in the trash bin when he passed by and stalled in your proximity on his way out. He just wanted to see you better than he could do it on the high school corridors in the lunch break, but blame it on the coincidence theory, that was the exact moment some Lemonheads slipped from the pocket of your black cargo pants when you pulled out your phone. That was a chance he was not willing to sacrifice. He dropped in a squat, picked the wrapped candies and smiled at you.

“I think you dropped these.”

You turned your head in the direction of the familiar voice only to find the cheerfully grinning pink-haired boy that you could’ve sworn you would fight anyone for.

“Hi. Oh, yes, thanks,” you replied in a pretty much measured tone and grabbed the candies from his palm.

“I’m Yuuji, by the way.” The shot was fired and his blood started boiling under the tension of his mind analyzing all the possible ways you could’ve answered to him. You could’ve laughed, whooshed him away, cringed at his boldness, pulled away or even cut his words. But he did not expect you to shake his hand, with a big smile plastered on your face.

“Alex here. Hi. Do you wann-” the number of your order appeared on the big screen and you paused your question, “-be right back at ya,” you smiled at Yuuji and went to the lady waiting with your bag.

As soon as your eyes got away from his face, Itadori let out a brief silent sigh and filled his hoodie pocket with his fists. This is good. I can do this. What if I ask her out? He was deep in thoughts when a lady shook his shoulder. “Young man, are you ordering, or just blocking the line?” The “I’m tired of you teenagers’ attitude” look on her face disturbed Yuuji and he left the spot, joining you at the front desk.

“Wasn’t you supposed to tell me you were out of the pancake meal? Why did you take my money then?” You tried really hard to hold back some yelling, but a vein on your forehead was definitely popping out.

“What’s the matter?” The boy asked, stopping next to you.

Pure sarcasm on your face when you looked from the staff girl to Yuuji. “I shall be starving to death today.”

“Miss, we can give you something else for the same amount. My colleagues weren’t awa-“

“Just give her a refund. We’ll be fine,” Yuuji stepped in and had both you and the other girl confused.

She gave your money back a bit half-hearted, and truth be told, you were feeling like that too, not only because you were hungry, but man, you loved the pancakes and the bacon and the eggs.

“Where are we going?” You asked, following Itadori out the restaurant after he motioned you to do so.

“I always wanted to try this food, instead of the usual fast-food.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, nor where he was leading you, but your guts weren’t agitated. There was something about that boy that screamed “safety” in your ears. The trip to the unknown food place he was taking you was short and you didn’t really get the time to make any small talk. Yuuji turned his body to face you, suddenly spreading and lifting his arm high up, a cheeky grin on his face when he exclaimed, “I present you ‘Gyros’, my new obsession.”

The fact that no word came out of your mouth as you stood in front of him, with your eyes blinking quickly, wiped Yuuji’s smile away. His confidence took a hike when his hands dropped from the air, where they were pointing at the ‘Gyros’ sign. “Should we just go back to McDonald’s?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head and frowning bashfully, not only because your glare fixed him, but also because Sukuna was laughing powerfully inside his mind.

“You. You have no idea where you just brought me,” your voice sounded more serious than you intended, so you giggled on purpose to loosen the tension because Yuuji looked like he was about to pass out from embarrassment. “Boy, relax. I was kidding-“ you barely held back a laugh, “-this is not my first ride with Gyros,” you finished and rested your palm on his shoulder. The pressure in his chest got released once he realized your playful attitude and he redirected his attention to placing an order he was about to pay for entirely.

Food hits differently at the standing tables and so do conversations. There you were, eating one of your favourite foods, chatting with your newest pal and enjoying the view of the tall city buildings that surrounded you. Once he found comfort in your presence, Yuuji opened up and he appeared even cuter to you than he did before. His eyes would gleam when you found his stupid jokes funny and his loud laughter would join yours when you gossiped like two best friends. The cutest thing about Itadori that you found yourself adoring was that he closed his eyes every time he bit on the gyros. You allowed a discreet smile to form on your lips as you admired him and he wasn’t aware of it. No matter how big of a portion you would’ve bought, it couldn’t take you an eternity to finish up your plate. You actually finished yours sooner than the boy, to steal a few more seconds of watching him perform such an automatic and usual activity as eating because he looked so precious doing it.

“Here, help me up.” Yuuji’s voice pulled you out of your daydreaming just as swiftly as the fry that he pushed into your gaping mouth. You chomped on it instantly and caused Yuuji to laugh at your confused face. “Listen, are you busy today? I was wondering if we could wal-“

“Yes, let’s go,” you answered almost instantly, chugging the rest of the Sprite in the paper cup and grinning back at Yuuji who was once again flustered.

The boy’s face flushed red and he smiled at you right before wiping his lips with a napkin and gathering all the food wrapping. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, watching him have a brain glitch for having to wipe his hands on his pants because he has thrown away all the tissues.

“I was thinking of arcade games, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I mean…” Yuuji suggested in a low voice causing Sukuna to roll his eyes aggressively. You are even dumber than I thought, brat. The poor boy shook his head to get rid of the voice and by doing that he missed your reply.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” You shouted, thinking that he didn’t hear you because of all those car horns on the street.

“Yeah, no, sure. Of course, we can do that instead.”

“Bruh, you’re damaged!” You shouted again and started laughing. “I said I will destroy you in the arcade,” you continued, still full-on laughing, the slight touch of your hand on his arm sending him your cheerful vibes.

“If you say so, let’s test it.” Yuuji caught some courage and sped up the pace. “Can you run in those?” He pointed at your boots and chuckled when you threw him a very offended look.

“Excuse you, I can beat you to it!” You accepted the challenge and sprinted away from Yuuji. His light-brown eyes widened in surprise and he started running.

No, you did not win the race. He was already inside RedLine VR when you managed to arrive at the doorstep, barely catching your breath. “I-… I need- … whoa… where did you get that stamina from?” The mock-neck long-sleeved top was practically suffocating you.

“I don’t know. Guess I’m gifted.” Again rubbing the back of his head bashfully, that boy could not be cuter. Or so you thought.

He led you inside the place and even helped you take your coat off as you cracked your knuckles in preparation for beating Yuuji’s ass up in video games. The coloured light from the video game’s display reflected in your gold hoop earrings as much as they reflected in your wide-open gleaming eyes. His eyes spent more time taking in the shape of your face and the colour of your skin more than they did on the actual screen. You unknowingly made him bite his bottom lip when you let out a different type of chuckle. You wanted it to sound devilish, but it didn’t come out quite like that.

Imagine her moaning with that voice, Sukuna busted in Yuuji’s mind, his own rather full of your image, and caused a deep blush on the kid’s face. It was annoying how much affect you had on Yuuji, and he tried to not look at you like that anymore.

Itadori was good at sports, not games, and you won countless rounds leisurely. Each time you shouted your victory, you clapped your hands in delight and made a funny face to Yuuji. He faked slight envy at first, his pathetic whines giving Sukuna a real headache, but eventually, your general happy state made the boy smile. If somebody observed him, they would’ve figured it out in one second that you completely entranced him. As funny as it was to see him struggling to fight you for the first place in the game, you grew bored of the arcade and suggested you went somewhere else.

“Do you want to go to a park?” Yuuji asked, his mind quickly mapping the area for the closest park.

Too many people around, huh? An evil chuckle hit the corners of the poor boy’s head and he tried to keep his secret hidden furthermore.

“A park sounds good, Yuuji. Can I call you Yuuji?” Only after you said it out loud, you remembered about the Japanese courtesy and, feeling a bit weird, you made yourself busy with putting your coat back on.

“Yeah, sure, you can call me Yu-,“ “Daddy,” his voice was cut off by Sukuna’s who whispered loudly enough for the teens around you two to hear.

“YUUJI!” He tried to mask the demon’s voice and covered the mouth on his cheek instantly. “You can call me Yuuji.” He swallowed hard and then smiled as if nothing happened.

��You’re weird, but cutely,” you said with a cheeky smile as you made your way out the room.

He followed soon after scolding his so-called co-inhabitant and walked by your side, between you and the busy road. You took your time walking to Winnemac Park since it would’ve been too much of a bother to take the bus for only one short station. Once inside the park, you felt like the world around you changed: there was undisturbed snow everywhere, Sun was slowly going down and it was silent. Your romantic side emerged and you hung your hand on Yuuji’s forearm. Your affection was electrifying, and even if he didn’t see it coming and hadn’t prepared for it, the boy accepted it gladly by sticking his hand in the hoodie big front pocket, to help your hand rest better on his arm. Fifteen minutes of walking through town have been filled with school gossip, laughing and “get-to-know-you-better” stuff, but as the cold settled down, you both became quieter.

“Hey, look.” You left Yuuji’s side by a couple of steps and you squatted down to grab something from the pavement.

“Wha-“ Boy didn’t stand a chance against your mischievous snowball attack. “Oh, you did not!” He laughed and leaned to the side to gather some snow for his part of the game.

The war was set into motion. Yuuji found it admirable that you managed to dodge many of his shots even while you almost choked on your own laughter. He loved to see you smiling and having a good time, especially because it was due to his actions. For a second, he got lost again in your smile and the snowball that you threw hit him right in the face. The hand he held a snowball in was frozen above his head, as he had prepared to throw it at you before falling in trance. He had no reaction whatsoever and it worried you a hell lot.

“I’m so sorry, Yuuji, are you ok?” You rushed closer to him and wiped the snow off his face with gentle and burning hands.

When his eyes opened, you hated yourself for falling into that old trap. His arms circled you abruptly and he intended to make you fall in the snow, but you proved more agile than he thought and you escaped. Your freedom didn’t last long, though, for he tackled you. Only, he didn’t see that you have reached the margin of the sidewalk and you would’ve fallen on your ass if it wasn’t for his strong grip. He looked astonishing towering like that over you, and not only the situation was somewhat hot, but you also hated to see him win the fight. One of your legs jerked fast and cut Yuuji’s balance, making him fall over you in the snow. Light-brown eyes met dark-brown ones and the imminent sparkle tied your insides in a tight knot. His face was so close to yours that it had you imagine what would happen if you kissed him right then and there. Yet, none of you two moved a muscle, except for the throat muscles who kept gulping timidly.

Alex and Yuuji are in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g! Sukuna’s words echoed in Itadori’s mind and they added to the closeness between your face and his, making him blush deeply. He stood up slowly and helped you on your feet too. Again silence as each of you cleaned the snow off of yourselves, avoiding the awkward moment.

“So, what now? I’m not cold anymore.” You snapped out of it and gave your best to look as normal as before in front of him, even if your stomach had a watermelon-sized hole inside.

“It’s getting late and I don’t really know the city that well at night. You want me to walk you to a bus station or something?” He asked, barely holding his composure in front of you while Sukuna yelled in his mind nonsense like You’re a chicken. A loser. Fucking lame-ass, stupid motherfucker. You could’ve kissed her. You should’ve kissed her! I should’ve taken over the control and kissed her right there!

“Sure. I don’t live far from here actually, you can walk me home if you want,” you suggested, hoping that he won’t interpret it the wrong way.

The weather became surprisingly harsh after sundown and your little coat didn’t do much in protecting you. Instinctively, you neared Itadori more, lured by the warmth his body radiated. As you balanced your gravity centre from one leg to the other, constantly moving your hands to try to keep them from freezing, your hand brushed against Itadori’s, which was hanging loosely by his body. He definitely felt it because you saw his jaw clenching, but he didn’t bring it up. So you did it again.

Oh, man, she’s got balls bigger than you, Sukuna mocked his host and then proceeded to laugh. You’re not gonna do anything about it?

Your ring and middle finger brushed the side of Yuuji’s hand softly as you two continued walking. When his pinkie interlocked with yours, you were no longer cold. The hole in your stomach filled with butterflies and you could feel your heart pounding against your chest. You hated yourself for being that flustered and weak, but from the way his other fingers circled your hand, you knew the feelings would only get more intense. The dark fell rather quickly and you found yourself squeezing Yuuji’s hand, to which he chuckled.

“Are you afraid of darkness?” He asked in a low tone, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“L-lol, no,” you stuttered a bit but smiled as you looked up to Yuuji, who was just teasing you with a gentle look in his eyes.

The way back home is always shorter and you reached the front door of the building you lived in with a lump in your throat. It was time to let go of his hand and maybe, who knew, let go of that moment too. You didn’t know much about Yuuji other than he was a foreign exchange student, who came for who knows how much time in Chicago, he liked Gyros as much as you and he had a lot of running stamina.

“Well, this is where I live, so… see you at school?” You asked sheepishly, slowly growing aware of the blush on Itadori’s face that was now visible because of the street light close-by.

Do it, brat. Do it now. Don’t be a pussy.

“Listen, Alex… Today has been a very nice day and I’m glad you dropped your candies.”

You scoffed at his hilarious confession and attempted to pull your hand away from his, but just as before, in the park when he caught you, Yuuji’s grip remained firm. “No, let me hold it a bit more,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you.

JUST DO IT ALREADY! You’ll thank me later. Sukuna could hear all of Yuuji’s thoughts and feel the desperate hollow in the boy’s chest. He couldn’t take Yuuji’s reticence anymore. Black marks began appearing on Yuuji’s cheekbones and chin and as soon as he sensed his conscience being ripped from him, the boy shouted. “Ok, ok, I’ll do it!”

“Uhm, I didn’t ask you anything… What’s wrong?” You squeezed his hand once more as you tried to understand what was just about to happen to his face and why he screamed like that.

“Ignore that. It-it’s a long story and I’d rather not tell it now,” Itadori released your hand and stared at you dead in the eye. “How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?”

Your face caught fire. Your ears were burning and your stomach was doing front flips. You barely got to whisper anything before Yuuji’s palms grabbed your cheeks and he slammed his lips on yours. They were soft and warm and he kissed you so slowly that it had you melting in his arms. Your own lips parted to welcome him just as hungrily as your hands tugged at his hoodie to keep him close. He pulled back, eventually, and you smiled at each other in the surprise of what just happened. His forehead leaned on yours and the way you burst into laughter made Yuuji laugh too.

“I hope I didn’t ruin today…” he whispered, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, but not parting from your figure yet.

“I can’t wait to see you again, boy,” you cooed, stealing another peck from him before you turned to enter the building.

You barely walked up the stairs with a grin splattered on your face and increased heart rate and once you entered your apartment, you slid down your door and laughed alone for a couple of minutes. That just happened and you were there and he was there and what’s gonna happen now? In the same way, Yuuji called himself an Uber and got inside with palms sweating and a happy frown on his face.

“Finally taking my advice. She was too cute to waste, man. If you didn’t take the chance, I would’ve.”

“Sukuna shut the hell up. I kissed her first.”

I just want to thank @half-baked-biscuit for writing this fanfic for me that I sent in as a commission. I really do appreciate her writing a black fem reader and her taking the time to write this amazing fluff with yuuji/sukuna. I love you bitch T^T. Also credit to the artist for the picture above @hinamie. This was an amazing design so I just had to use it! Please like, reblog, and comment :3

Heres the link to the original post of the artist: https://hinamie.tumblr.com/post/635380113076355072/th-designs-in-this-show-r-god-tier-thank-u-jjk 

Taglist: @half-baked-biscuit @siriusimie @mangobxbbletea @corduroyrose

[kittybellestark]

Straightening Things Out

Part 2

Hey everyone so this is going to be a two part fic, tumblr told me I hit my limit soooo. 

This is the long awaiting MayxSkip with Bi!Peter fic I’ve been talking about, idk how long a 2nd part will take but I already have a bit written, which is super nice. Uh, yeah, this is heavy stuff, so prepare your hearts, bc mine hurts

TW: homophobia, depression, self harm, homophobic slurs, eating disorder (?), abuse, sexual assault, thoughts of suicide, questioning sexuality, alcohol

He’s not sure how he got here.

Well, he knows, but he just doesn’t understand it.

A year ago Peter was trying to get May with Happy. It seemed logical and safe. May wanted to get back into the dating pool, and while Peter was hesitant about the idea of May being with anyone other than Ben, he felt like Happy could be a good person for her to be with. That was safe, controlled even.

Pushing for May to be with Happy seemed like the right step. Supporting May in her decision to start seeing people again also make sense. Now, Peter regrets it. He should have told her no. That he wasn’t ready or comfortable with that.

He doesn’t understand why he’s in the bathroom cleaning up his own blood. He didn’t even go out as Spider-Man. Peter hates May’s new boyfriend.

Skip wasn’t safe. He wasn’t very kind either. And there was just something about him bothered Peter. And yet when Peter tried to talk to May about it, the complaints weren’t heard or taken seriously.

May doesn’t understand that Skip is a danger, and Peter can’t really talk to people about this.

Six months ago…

“Hey Happy.” Peter smiles jumping into the black ‘inconspicuous’ Audi.

“Hi Pete.”

After a few minutes of talking the conversation finally turns.

“How’s your aunt.”

Peter snorts, rolling his eyes. “She thinks she’s doing great. Still with Skip, he lives with us now. May isn’t very happy that Skip and I aren’t getting along too well though. She thinks that I have a problem with seeing her with other men, amongst other things.”

“Sounds like you don’t like him. I didn’t even think that was possible, you’re like a lab.” Happy chuckled.

“I resent that. I don’t like a lot of people who I don’t need to disclose to you. I was just expecting her to get with someone else, someone who was less I don’t know, just less.”

“You and me both kid. You and me both.”

-

Five and a half months ago…

Peter and May were making dinner together, the radio was playing softly and Skip was sitting in the dining room, beer in hand, listening to Peter and May’s conversation.

“How was school, baby?” May asked.

Peter hums as he chops some carrots. “There’s a new transfer at school. From Tennessee, he even lives with Mr. Stark.”

May pauses mixing the stir fry they were attempting to make. She smiles at Peter an eyebrow raised, waving the spatula at him.

“Is he cute?” She asked in a song-song voice.

Peter rolls his eyes with a smile. He sticks out his tongue, flicking some water at May. Skip watches with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, yeah he’s really cute. Blond hair, blue eyes, southern charm and he’s so smart too. And tall. May, he’s also like muscular too, his arms? He used to work in a mechanic shop where he grew up, he could probably bench press me without breaking a sweat.”

“Sounds like you have a crush!” May squealed pulling Peter into a hug.

“You have a crush on a man? Are you gay?” Skip huffed with a laugh.

“Bisexual, actually.” Peter deadpanned. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no, not at all. Just surprised.” Skip laughed.

-

Five months ago...

May was at work, it was just Peter and Skip at home. Peter was in his room, the door was closed over, and Skip in the living room watching a sports game and drinking some beer.

While this wasn’t the most common occurrence, it wasn’t necessarily uncommon either. Peter would stay in his room and do homework or play some sort of online video game with Ned, Harley and MJ, typically Minecraft but sometimes they chose something else. Skip would watch sports or the news, but never a reliable source, always the Daily Bugle or Fox News.

Today was supposed to be like every other time. Peter was supposed to be in his room and Skip in the living room. But then Skip was in his room with him. Peter felt uneasy. It just didn’t sit right with him having the older man in his room.

“I think we need to talk, Pete.” Skip said sitting on Peter’s bed, while Peter stayed sitting at his desk.

“Sure, what about?” Peter tried to sound pleasant and kind, doing this for May.

“Well, I’ve been trying to broach this subject with you gently, but May and I have spoken about how we can cure you.”

Skip had the decency to look somber. His shoulders hunched forward, frowning. His eyes held remorse and regret. It only seemed to enrage Peter.

“Cure me? As far as I was concerned I was perfectly healthy.” Peter couldn’t help but snort.

“Of your sin, Peter. You like men, and we know that we have to cure you of it.”

It felt like all of the air had been taken out of his lungs. His heart stopped and the world blurred for a moment before Peter shook himself out of it. He pushed himself up out of his chair trying to back himself up, away from Skip. This wasn’t right. This was really wrong.

“May accepts me. She said so. She’s always supported me and accepted that I’m bi.”

“She didn’t know how to tell you she didn’t. She was crying quite a bit. May just didn’t know how to tell you. So she asked me to help fix you.”

Skip got up from the bed, walking over to Peter, trapping Peter in. Skip put an arm on each side of Peter’s body, resting his hands on the wall behind Peter. Peter felt trapped, his eyes wide as he looked around unsure of what he could do. May and Skip thought he was sick.

“She can’t-“ Peter cried, tears coming to his eyes. He didn’t want to accept it. This couldn’t be happening.

Skip put a hand on his shoulder.

“She does, Einstein, but it’s okay because I’ll fix you.”

-

Peter sat at their usual lunch table, Ned next to him, MJ, kiddie-corner to him and Harley across from him. His leg was bouncing as they all ate, but he couldn’t do more then push his food around his tray.

“There’s nothing wrong with me being bisexual right? Like, I’m still normal, I’m not sick or anything for liking more than just women right?”

It used to be old-hat for MJ and Ned to have to reassure Peter that being bisexual is okay. It was just last year that Peter finally started to feel secure in his sexuality and not question whether he was normal or not. It just always felt like Peter was faking his attraction to other genders.  

The group became silent with shock. None of them were prepared for Peter to have any insecurities about his sexuality, and it certainly wasn’t something that Harley was there to witness. It had been such a long time since he voiced this doubt. Ned and MJ gave each other looks, while Harley sat there starring at Peter slack-jawed.

“Sorry. I’ve just been in my own head recently. Bisexuality is valid and so am I. I know, I’m sorry, I just- what if I’ve been lying to myself this whole time? I’m sorry, I know I’m being silly.”

There was another moment of silence before Harley grabbed Peter’s hand.

“It’s not silly to question you’re own sexuality, Peter. Being bisexual is hard because people always try to invalidate you and tell you to just choose. It’s okay to be confused. Prefaces change from day to day and it is so confusing sometimes. We’re your people, we’re here for you no matter how you identify.” Harley smiled, something sad and soft.

-

Four and a half months ago...

Peter was trying to sleep. It wasn’t coming easily anymore. Skip and May were in the next room over. He should be able to sleep. But nothing felt right. Everything was always off, never normal, almost safe. It didn’t feel good.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall before Peter’s door opened and closed. Peter tried to pretend to sleep, but the footsteps came closer to him then Skip’s hand was on his shoulder.

“Hey Einstein. I’ve got something for you.” Skip whispered, getting Peter’s eyes to open.

Peter pushed himself up and into the top corner of his bed, knees drawn to his chest. He really hated Skip. Hated his deep voice and pointy chin and crooked nose. He hated Skip’s receding hairline and beer belly. Peter hated Skip and everything about him. But mostly Peter hated that Skip and May knew there was something wrong with him.

Skip dropped some razors onto the bed. All loose and brand new. Peter looked at Skip like he was crazy. It was too late at night to register this.

“May and I were talking again. Anytime you have a sinful thought, any homosexual thoughts or desires just give yourself a cut. Obviously don’t do it in front of anyone other than me, but this should help bleed the faggot out of you.”

Peter gasped, eyes wide and shaking his head. He didn’t want to do this. Cutting himself was not something Peter ever wanted to start doing again. He got away from it, he recovered, and now the blades are being provided to him. Peter is being expected to cut this time. 

“I can’t do that. Anything but that Skip, please.”

Peter didn’t realize the tears that were pouring down his face, or how hard it was to breath. If it wasn’t for Skip wiping the tears from Peter’s face, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“Hey, no, no it’s okay, Einstein, it’s not as bad as it seems okay, look,” Skip took Peter’s wrist slicing it a few times, just enough to bring up blood up before handing the razor to Peter, “See? Nice and easy. Now I’m not going to leave until I see you try okay?”

Peter nodded, bringing the razor down on his skin and breathing a sigh of release as he broke his own skin.

-

Tony dropped food in front of Peter, two burgers and fries, before sitting down beside him. They were finally watching a movie after spending time in the lab and now Harley would be joining them too.

“Kid, we’ve talked about your eating habits. You need to eat more than a regular person. I don’t like seeing you lose weight this fast. I just like to see you happy and healthy.”

Peter knew he should say something. The razor in his pocket wasn’t normal and he should tell Tony. And his need to cut every time he thought about Harley, or the need to cut when he realized he was playing into Skips hands. But Peter didn’t want to lose his little therapeutic treatment again. He could do better at hiding it this time, especially with his healing factor now. Peter could keep this.

It’s his little secret with Skip. Peter could keep it safe. It made him feel better, and that’s what everyone wants, right?

“Oh yeah, sorry, I’ve just had a smaller appetite recently, I’ll do better, promise.” Peter nodded with a smile.

At that moment Harley walked into the room, giving Peter a crooked smile, a blush painted across his cheeks.

Peter would have to cut later, for thinking about Harley like that, and for doing what Skip told him and also for scarring Tony. Peter deserved this.

-

Four months ago…

Peter and Skip were alone together again.

It seemed to become more common now. Or maybe Peter was just getting used to having Skip try and cure him. He hated himself for wanting it to work. Peter just didn’t like himself much anymore.

“Einstein,” Skip slurred, “are you still a faggot?”

Peter flushed with shame, nodding. Peter really hated Skip for making him feel like this. For feeling shame for being bisexual and wishing he were straight. Peter hated himself a lot. He just wanted to be better.

“Shame, thought I’d have you straightened out by now. May is going to be disappointed to know you’re still a homo. I’ll have to start getting more aggressive with your treatments.”

Peter shook his head. He was already so tired, and he just wanted to feel safe in his home. He just needed to do what Skip and May wanted and then they’ll like him. All Peter needed to do was be straight, no matter what. He’s doing the right thing.

“How much more?” Peter’s voice cracked.

“As much as it takes to turn you straight.” Skip smiled.

He now gripped Peter’s face in both hands, thumbs on his cheeks. Skip used the hold he had on Peter to bring him towards the bathroom doorframe- the only metal frame in the house.

Peter didn’t fight. He was doing this for May. May wants him straight and wants Skip to do it. Peter scratched at his legs, where most of the cuts were, hoping that would convince Skip from stopping whatever he was doing. But it didn’t, of course it didn’t. Why would it convince Skip, when he’s only doing what’s best for better?

With his hold on Peter’s head, Skip jerked Peter’s head into the doorframe, with enough force to make Peter forget how to stand. Peter was only being held up by Skip's grip on his head when Skip lifted up his knee, forcing it into Peter’s stomach.

Peter groaned with the impact and Skip let him go and Peter fell to the ground. He barely managed to catch himself, resting his forehead on the cool floor. There was barely a moment before an on slate of kicks were delivered to Peter.

“No,” Peter sobbed, “stop, please, stop, stop, you’re hurting me.”

It was another few moments before Skip stopped kicking him with a huff. Skip sat down on the ground, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder to comfort the boy. Peter continued to sob, barely able to support his own weight to get himself sitting.

“Einstein, I just want you to know that I don’t like doing this. I don’t want to do this, but May and I agreed that I have to do this. I’m sorry Einstein, but it’s for your own good.”

Skip pulled Peter onto his lap, rubbing Peter’s back to bring him some comfort. Peter relaxed into Skip’s hold when he realized that there wasn’t going to be more pain. They sat there for a while before Skip finally stood up, as Peter’s sobs were finally ending, bringing Peter to his room and tucking Peter into bed.

-

“Peter I’m worried about you.” MJ said after Academic Decathlon practice.

Peter was wide eyed, holding his book bag in front of him, using it as a shield. His clothing that used to only be a little bit large on him, now swallowed him completely, his cheekbones were sharper and anytime his sweater moved a little bit, his collar bone was revealed to be protruding from his chest. Peter flinched at people who moved too fast and his skin was pale with dark bags under his eyes.

“I’m okay MJ.” Peter smiled, but his eyes were still empty.

“Are you cutting again? You’re acting like you used too. I don’t like seeing you lose your spark.”

MJ moved forward, grabbing Peter’s hands in her own. His hands were cold against hers and shaking slightly. Her head tilted just a bit as she searched for answers on Peter’s face.

“I’m not- no, I moved past that.” Peter lied.

He couldn’t tell her. He needed to cut. He needed the freedom it gave him, the relief. It was one of the only things he had anymore that he still enjoyed. By telling MJ, Peter would lose his sanity. Everything would be okay as long as he had a razor on him, as long as he got to cut his skin open.

But he should tell her. Maybe that would get everything to end. If he just told someone, maybe Skip would stop hurting him. Or maybe they’d push for Skip to continue on with trying to cure him. This was for the best, after all.

“Peter, you’re one of my best friends, okay? So if you were cutting again, hypothetically speaking, know that you can come to me, I won’t tell anyone. Not even May or my parents.”

Peter nodded, looking away from her, hating himself for lying and hating that MJ was trying so hard. It would have been so much easier if he just liked MJ instead of Harley.

“Look, look, MJ, see no cuts,” Peter rolled up his sleeves to show healed skin and no scars, “I promise, I’m just a little stressed out right now, don’t worry about me. I’m just focusing on myself for now, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay, well, when is the last time you ate?”

“Right before practice.”

It felt nice for Peter to actually tell the truth. He was eating almost as much as usual. Typically the same amount unless he had time alone with Skip. Peter was just stressed and sometimes couldn’t keep his food down, but he still ate more than enough. He should be able to keep up his weight, the weight loss just sort of happened.

-

Three and a half months ago…

May was working the overnight shift again. It was a school night so Peter was at the apartment with Skip instead of the Tower like he would be on weekends.

Peter was finally sleeping, well actually he was passed out from exhaustion, but it was still a sort of sleep, technically. Somewhere between Skip moving in and their ever-more-frequent talks “chats,” Peter started to lose sleep. He would stay awake later, slit his wrists longer, and on top of that the surprise beatings from Skip were really taking an affect on Peter. All except the desired affect.

Peter was still bisexual. He didn’t want to be bisexual anymore. He just wanted to be normal, straight. Liking men was wrong, Peter was wrong. May and Skip just wanted what was best for Peter. And this was what was best. Skip was just helping Peter. He was straightening Peter out. This was just want needed to be done.

Skip stumbled into Peter’s room. He saw that Peter was tucked in under his blankets deep in sleep and Skip couldn’t help but climbing into the bed too. He pulled the teen into his body, breathing in how Peter smells, nuzzling his nose behind Peter’s ear.

Peter woke up trapped in Skips arms. He panicked trying to get out, it was just like The Vulture dropping a building on him again. But this time it wasn’t concrete but instead a man. A man who was supposed to be in love with his aunt.

“Skip.” Peter whined trying to wriggle free.

The older man moaned, moving a hand down to feel Peter’s length.

“I didn’t realize that you’d rub off on me. You’re trying to turn me into a homo. Einstein, you’re rejecting your treatment and trying to change me instead, and I don’t tolerate this very much.”

Peter shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. His whole body shook with nerves, and he thought he was going to vibrate out of his body.

“Skip, I promise I’m taking this seriously. I should be straight, I want to be straight. Just like you Skip, I’m trying really hard to be straight. I promise, I don’t want to be a disappointment to you or May anymore.”

The older man laughed, holding onto Peter tighter. He ground his hips further into the teen, making Peter whine and squirm more trying to break free.

“Einstein,” Skip moaned, “You’re ass, I swear it’s a woman’s. Your such a fairy, Einstein. I could just imagine you as a woman, you’re hair at your shoulders, this great ass and a tight pussy, your tit’s would probably be smaller, barely a handful, but you’d be so cute. Too bad you’re just bent.”

-

Harley sat across from Peter, cheeks blushed, watching Peter carefully. Peter no longer felt that the freckles painted across Harley’s cheeks and nose were cute, and he no longer felt comforted by being in Harley’s presence. Now Peter only felt dread. There was no more warmth or the feeling of being safe. 

Peter wasn’t attracted to Harley. He didn’t want to be with Harley, he was afraid of Harley. What Skip was doing was working. Peter was going straight. He wasn’t going to be bisexual anymore, he was only going to like women now.  Peter wasn’t going to be a freak or a fag or a fairy or a homo or bent. Peter was going to be straight. Skip was fixing him.

“Peter are you okay? You’ve been really spacey recently.” Harley asked keeping his voice soft and cautious. 

Peter smiled. It didn’t feel natural and probably didn’t look all that genuine, but Peter felt like he should be happy. He was happy that he this meant that May and Skip will not be disappointed in him. Maybe then Skip will like him. Now they can be a family

This is going to fix all of his relationships. People are going to like him better if he’s straight. He’ll only like women and be normal. It’ll solve so many problems for him.

“Yeah, Harls, I think I’m actually really good. Like, for real.”

Peter laughed, not one of his soft, bubbly and contagious laughs, the ones he was known for. Instead it was hallow and empty, self deprecating even. Harley’s eyes widened, suddenly more concerned for Peter than he’d been previously.

“Peter...” Harley sighed.

He reached out to grab Peter’s hand, watching Peter flinch back hard. Harley saw the moment Peter recognized what he did and how he tried to shake himself out of it, but he also saw how Peter moved to stay farther away from him.

“I’m good, Harls, really.” Peter nodded again.

“No, you’re not. There’s something seriously wrong. I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

-

Three months ago…

Peter and Skip were finally alone. May had been on a stretch of day shifts and Peter’s friends were more persistent on having Peter go out with them during evenings. They were even tracking his food intake. The group was becoming obsessive over Peter now. And Peter was sick of it.

But now Peter was home alone with Skip. He could finally tell the man the good news. It’s been well over a week since Peter had and romantic or sexual feelings for another man. There’s only been fear, with any he looked at. Peter didn’t want to be attracted to men. Skip was curing him. May and Skip will finally accept him again.

As soon as May stepped out of the apartment Peter left his bedroom and sat down on the couch beside Skip. The man smiled at the boy, licking his lips before pinning Peter onto the couch. Skip groped at Peter for a moment, before pressing sloppy kisses onto his neck.

“No, stop, Skip I don’t like this.” Peter fought. “I just wanted to tell you that it worked. I don’t- I’m straight. You cured me. It worked. You and May don’t have to be disappointed in me anymore.”

Skip laughed. Loud and boisterous, pressing his weight down onto Peter. His hands moved up and down the teens frame, removing Peter’s clothes. Peter struggled harder, tears pouring down his face, sobbing out pleas to be let go. He tried fighting it, fighting Skip to keep his clothes on.

“You see Einstein, while I’ve made you straight, you’ve made me a fag. So this is going to have to continue, just a little until I no longer view your twink-ass as jailbait.”

Peter sobbed harder, trying to use his elbows to get away. Instead, Skip just pressed a hand into a patch of fresh cuts, forcing Peter’s vision to white out for a moment, that was just long enough to take off Peter’s underwear off.

“Skip, Skip no. No. I’m not. I swear, I didn’t make you like men. I didn’t do it. I’m straight now. You fixed me, I swear. You need to stop. You don’t want to go there. You don’t want this.”

Peter tried begging. He tried pleading, but he couldn’t stop Skip. It was too late. Skip had a plan and he wasn’t going to stop.

“Real funny that you think you know what I want, Einstein. This is for the best though, I promise, I’m doing this for you.”

-

It was movie night with May. Skip was out meeting up with his old friend was college. So it was just Peter and May. In their living room.

Peter couldn’t sit on the couch. Well, sitting in general wasn’t really working. So Peter just laid down on the ground, and May took the couch.

“Peter, I’m proud of you, you know that?” May finally spoke, halfway through Tangled.

“You are?” Peter didn’t anticipate his voice cracking, but hearing that May was proud of him? It was worth everything.

“Of course, baby. Skip told me that you let him help you, and I’m so proud of you for accepting help. He said that you’re problem was resolved with his help too. I’m so glad you two are getting along.”

Peter heard the words of confirmation that what Skip has been doing is what May also wants. She’s proud of him. She’s happy that Skip fixed him. May is glad that Peter is straight and that Skip turned him. It breaks Peter’s heart to actually hear it from May.

Peter never wanted to do it anyways.

And yet here he is. Having done it for her. He did this for May. To be accepted by May. So that he isn’t a disappointment in her life. And he isn’t happy. He’s not happy with himself, or Skip or May. Peter thought this would make him happy.

Peter wishes he born properly. Born straight. Born not wanting to harm himself. He wishes that the feeling that he needs to die never existed. Peter wishes he could be himself and be loved by his family. It shouldn’t have to be one of the other.

“Thanks.”

He tried not to choke on the acid rising up his throat.

-

Two and a half months ago…

It doesn’t stop. Skip doesn’t stop. His brain doesn’t stop. The fear didn’t replace the attraction like Peter originally thought. It’s just more confusing now.

Peter just wanted this to end.

Skip wasn’t going to end this.

-

Tony and Pepper had invited Peter, May and Skip over for dinner. Tony had made loads of his famous lasagna, and Pepper made a spinach dip appetizer and they ordered cheesecake for dessert.

All the adults seemed to be having a conversation together while Harley and Peter talked among themselves.

“I have an announcement.” Skip smiled at May, bringing the attention to himself.

“I asked May to marry me yesterday and she said yes.”

Peter was sure that this would be what killed him. Skip was his life sentence for whatever Peter did wrong. Skip was going to be his step-uncle, his new guardian.

Tony, Pepper and Harley congratulated the couple, and Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. Wine was brought out Peter couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just, I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” Peter smiled pushing himself out of his spot.

“Hurry back Einstein, we’re gonna be a family, we have to celebrate together.”

Peter was going to be sick.

He nodded and left the room, shutting himself in the bathroom and throwing up.

This isn’t what he wanted. Skip can’t be there for the rest of his life. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.

-

One month ago…

Peter was sure Skip was going to kill him. Or use him forever.

Peter didn’t like either option.

-

“I don’t want them to get married.” Peter confessed.

Happy pulled the car over, turning in his seat to see Peter. The kid wasn’t looking very good, he reminded Happy of 2008 era Tony. It wasn’t a very good look on a kid.

“You feel like it’s too soon after Ben? Or is it because of how fast-paced their relationship has been?”

Peter had tried not to think about Ben since Skip moved in. He didn’t want to picture the look of disappointment Ben would give him. Peter didn’t want to think that he is a failure in Ben’s eyes. Ben would believe that Peter brought this onto himself.

‘With great Power Comes Great Responsibility.’

Ben always said that. And yet Peter failed. He gave away his power, and was completely responsible for where he is now. Peter did everything wrong and Ben would know that. He took his uncles advice, his dying words, and ruined them, broke them, tossed them in the trash and set them on fire. Ben would hate this Peter, and Peter knew that like he knew how to breathe.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just- I don’t think I’m ready for May to be married yet. It just feels like Skip is trying to replace his spot. I don’t want the to get married yet.”

Happy nodded in understanding, trying to give the teen a small smile.

“Pete, no one is ever going to replace Ben. He was your uncle, your guardian, your parent, he raised you. Skip could never live up to that.”

-

Present day…

There’s blood.

Peter is in the bathroom cleaning up his own blood and he doesn’t understand how he got here.

Well, he knows how. He just doesn’t understand it.

And he doesn’t know where to start cleaning it. Peter doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. This was all horribly wrong.

Peter knew he couldn’t stay here much longer though. Skip had gone back to his own bedroom, after a rough ‘session’ with Peter. And now Peter is alone, and bleeding and he needs to get out.

Peter picks up his phone and makes a call.

“Hey, can you uh, come pick me up, I can’t stay here, I need, uh I need to get out of here.”

“Yeah kid, you got it. I’ll be there in half.”

“Meet me, uh, two blocks up from here actually.”

“You okay, Underoos?”

Peter hung up the phone.

He hoped in the shower hoping the water would get rid of the blood, hoping the soap would wash Skip away. And when that didn’t work Peter put on an oversized sweater and large sweatpants. Peter packed untainted clothing into his book bag and left through his window and down the fire escape, putting his hood up.

This was a mistake.

Leaving was a mistake. Skip was only doing what he thought was- no. No. No. Peter can’t go back.

He won’t live through this. Peter doesn’t want to live through this.

He scratched at his arms as he made it to the spot that Tony was supposed to pick him up.

Peter was going to be sick.

How could he let it get this far? Peter shouldn’t have let this happen. This was all wrong. Why is he relying on Tony to take him away. What if Tony agrees with Skip?

Peter coughed up blood.

New plan.

Go with Tony, make sure his stomach isn’t bleeding, once he’s good, leave. Go fast. Stay away from cameras. Go to Canada. Or Florida. Get out of New York. Go far. Somewhere where May and Skip won’t think he’ll go.

Tony pulls up and Peter hops into the car quickly. Tony doesn’t start driving right away though. Instead he looks at Peter, seeing the fear in the boys eyes, as well the way he is unconsciously scratching his arms.

“What’s happening?”

Peter shakes his head, tears filling his eyes.

“Please, just drive, I can’t be here. Can’t be in the city right now.”

“Is this drugs?” Tony asks as he starts to drive, hoping that Peter won’t leave. “I don’t care if it is, I can get you help.”

“It’s not drugs. It’s probably be easier if it was drugs. Honestly, I wish it was drugs. I can’t go home though, okay? Please don’t tell May.”

“Okay. We can do that for now but I will eventually have to tell her where you are so her and Skip don’t get worried.”

“You can’t” Peter shouted jerking upright and pushing himself further away from Tony. “You can’t. Skip can’t know. He’ll kill me, I swear, he can’t know, I can’t go back.”

Tony nodded, as Peter seemed to fall apart in front of him, hoping that appearing casual while driving will keep Peter talking.

“So we don’t like Skip, alright. Is there a reason why?”

Peter sobbed and Tony was tempted to pull over right then and there, but he knows that scaring Peter would cause him to run, so he needs to keep driving.

“He said he’d help. He did the opposite.”

Tony hummed, bringing them out of the city and towards the compound. Peter was rocking himself slightly, clearly uncomfortable. He started to cough, blood splattering across his arms.

“What the hell, Parker?” Tony said stepping on the gas.

“No Skip, Tony. Promise me, we don’t get him involved even if that means keeping May in the dark. You bring Skip into this then I’m leaving. Okay?”

“Jesus, yeah, okay, promise. We’ll keep him out of this, I got you. No Skip, we don’t want him, I got it Pete.”

Peter nodded, feeling relief wash over him as he was finally in a safe spot. He was out. He was out of that god forsaken apartment. No Skip means he’s safe. Safety means he can finally sleep. So he closed his eyes.

-

Tag List: DM or send and ask if you would like to be added, if you only want to be tagged in pt2 please make that clear  

@peterbeanie @jean-and-diet-coke @dead-inside-pt2 @they-were-cloudsinmycoffee

[your-local-bnha-writer]

Could you do a short story in which the main character (y/n), is new at the school having joined in the middle of the year. For reason unknown the others avoid You. However Bakugo seems to like you. Thanks XOXO PS. If you get around to it make sure he gets teased a lot for hanging out with you. Love ya! 🥰

the new kid | katsuki bakugo

pairing | bakugo x reader

word count | 1164

warning | swearing, mineta being a pervert

genre | fluff

a/n | hi hi! thanks for requesting!! i hope you like it, i’m sorry it was a bit rushed bc of online school!! 💓 also i changed the request a bit i hope it’s okie 😓

gif by @afoxthatpretendstobeabear

✧･ﾟ: *✧��ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Transferring to one of the top hero schools in Japan was a journey. You were thrilled get a video back from All Might telling you that you got in, although since it was the middle of the year that meant everyone else already made new friends and gathered in their respective groups.

Shaking that thought out of your head you got ready to head to U.A.

"This is Y/n L/n, they're a new student, please welcome her," your new teacher's announced to the class, his voice monotone. You waved shyly and sat down to a blonde boy.

An annoyed look was etched on his face as he listened to the teacher drone on about training. You couldn't help but feel out of place in the class as the nerves settled in.

Lunch time came in a flash, and you had no idea where, or who to sit with. A couple of your classmates tried their best to make you feel welcomed, but there was still something wrong.

Sooner or later a girl with pink hair and skin, invited you to sit at their table. At the table there were a total of 5 people. You didn't remember their names but they said it was alright since it was your first day there.

The longer you spent time with them, the more out of place you felt. They seemed kind, and two of them were amusing to watch, it just didn't seem right.

"Oi idiots, classes are starting soon," a gruff voice called out. You turn to see the boy you were sitting next to in class standing up with his lunch tray.

"C'mon Bakugo! We still have a time left," your classmate with red-hair said attempting to make him stay.

"No, if you know what's good for you, you'll get to class in time," he makes eye contact with you.

"That means you too," and with that he was gone.

You had never felt more intimidated in your life. You didn't know what to expect from UA but this definitely wasn't it.

"Sorry 'bout him! He could be a little grumpy sometimes," the pink girl exclaimed.

"Sometimes? He's like that everyday!" A boy with black hair laughed.

Something clicked in your head, everyday? This made you want to get to know him even more.

A couple of days pass and you still feel like the black sheep. Who could blame you? You try transferring to the top hero school in the middle of the year. Don't forget about the dorms.

Dorms, were going to take some getting used to. It took you some time to get to know where everything was, what your schedule was, how food was going to be prepared, what that little weird purple thing was.

You furrowed your brows at something in between the crack of your door, and quickly opened to see what the hell it was.

"O-Oh hey! You're the new kid right? Well, since you're new here I'll show you around. But first, there's something I need you to do..." he trails off looking in your room.

Your eyes widened as he attempted to peer inside, but your legs were in the way.

"Uh, are you sure? I don't think this is necessary," you say cringing at the drool gathered around his mouth.

"Oh trust me, everyone did this on their first they too," he answers. You open your mouth to say something when you hear footsteps down the hall.

"There you are ya little shit!" It was Bakugo, I think that's his name.

"Huh? Oh! Bakugo! Hi! I was uh...I was just welcoming our new student, isn't that right?" The previous boy said, looking at you nervously.

"Likely story, what the fuck were you doing creeping around their room?" Bakugo seethed with anger. You knew he had a short temper from what you've seen from the past few days, but this was on another level.

"I...I didn't do a-anything! I s-swear on it!" the small boy whimpers, slowly backing away from Bakugo. Bakugo only growls furiously, extending his hand out showing off his quirk.

"I'm giving you, 5 seconds to tell me what the fuck happened before I blast your ass through the wall," he snarls, walking closer to the boy.

"He did nothing!" You shout suddenly, catching both of their attentions.

"Well...I mean he tried? Not really though, you got here before he could try anything," you finish off quietly, refusing to make look at either of them in the eye.

Bakugo narrows his eyes before glaring at your frightened classmate.

"You try anything like that again I won't hesitate, you're fucking lucky they were here to save your as this time," he glowers jabbing a thumb at you and begins to walk away.

He stops right when he gets to you.

"Tell me if he does something like that again," he murmurs to you and stomps away, shoving his hands in his pockets, not giving you a chance to say anything back.

You let yourself linger your gaze on him before going back to your dorm and making sure to lock the door this time.

The next few days the little guy avoided you like the plague, you had learned his name was Mineta. Bakugo also tried his best to stay your proximity.

You warmed up to him, eventually becoming one of his closest friends, making his other friends wonder, how on earth you managed to break through his shell.

"How the hell...?" Kaminari pondered, tilting his head at you and Bakugo. You were basically cuddled up right against him.

"Tch. Fuck off, I'm going to bed." He scoffs, moving away from you. You pout at the loss of warmth but let him go.

"Night Baku," calling out to him not even batting an eye.

“See ya,” he grumbles and went off to bed. You hug quietly before looking up to see all of the BakuSquad staring directly at you.

“What?” You ask titling your head.

“How?” Kaminari asks looking at you like you just grew two heads.

“How did you manage to get Bakugo to like you so fast? You only got here a couple of months ago and he’s already warmed up to you,” Sero points out.

You think about for a bit, before finally telling them what went down with Mineta on your first day of school.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry you had to deal with him,” Mina cringes.

“Luckily Bakubro was there to save the day,” Kirishima winks and you blush.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna go to bed as well,” you chuckle and wave them off.

When you finally get to bed you decide to send Bakugo a text.

Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow?

You were too tired to care so you shut your phone off and slipped under the covers. That is, until he texted back.

Tch.

Sure, 5pm don’t be late.

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 1

“You know, if they’re really buggin’ you…” Van’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the soft background noise of the street. He gives another one of his shrugs, as if what he’s about to say next isn’t important. “We could head back up to my room,” He finishes.

or

Your annual birthday trip with your best friend to San Diego ends in a chance encounter with Van McCann.

A/N: Clearly I’ve just created this blog and popped up out of nowhere, but I wanted somewhere separate to post my writing. This is a full length fic that is (almost) finished and I plan to post a new chapter once a week. It’s incredibly long and I’ve been working on this universe forever so if you’d like to come talk about it in my ask please do lmao.

Word count: ~11k

Chapter One

January 2019

Every single year you debate driving down to San Diego for your birthday.

But once you’re there, welcomed into the city by bustling shops and their neon signs, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the comfort of your usual hotel and the good company you bring with you, you never doubt this tradition.

It started three years ago, making this your fourth trip down here. At first it had been impulsive, a dangerous combination of your desire to run away after dealing with your family for the Christmas holidays and your best friend Mary’s down-for-anything attitude. You two had packed up and made the 3 hour drive from L.A., making a hotel reservation on the fly. After a relaxing weekend shopping, laying out on the beach, and forgetting about all the chaos of the holidays, you two returned back home refreshed, renewed, and determined to make this a usual thing.

And so it became. The next January you two made your return voyage, this time scheduling the trip so it landed on your birthday, which only amplified the excitement and festivities. That’s how the tradition remained; despite internal debates between you and Mary about whether you could afford it, and whether the drive was worth it when you could easily do something fun closer to home, you two faithfully continued to celebrate your birthday in this fashion.

This year is no different from any other, except for the addition of Theo, Mary’s boyfriend. She was dating him on your last birthday, but not long enough for you two to guarantee he wouldn’t spoil your fun. By this year, however, he was practically a second best friend to you, fitting into you and Mary’s clique nicely.

After a long, afternoon car ride in traffic under the blistering California sun and a two-hour debate over the music, the three of you have finally arrived and checked in to your hotel. And once you’re finally out on the hotel room balcony, looking down at the sprawling view of the beach and sparkling ocean, you know that despite your doubts this was so worth it.

\\

After getting settled in and some light shopping, your first order of business is getting some food, preferably something greasy and carb-y. Thankfully, there’s a bar right across the street from the hotel that has excellent reviews and some amazing photos of bar burgers online, so you three decide to have dinner there.

It’s a quaint place, a narrow building fighting for sidewalk space, but considering its positive reputation and its proximity to the hotel it’s packed. It takes a good forty-five minutes to be seated at a small round table near the outer edge of the room, and still some time after that for someone to be available to place your orders, but eventually everyone has hot food and cold drinks.

And even after the food is gone the drinks keep flowing, the three of you ringing in your annual trip by ordering rounds of whatever drink name sounded the most interesting.

“You know,” Mary starts when Theo brings back a tray of mixed drinks that have sliced strawberries laying at the bottom of the glass, “I think that guy’s been staring at you.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop.”

“I’m serious!” Mary insists, her voice raising slightly. “I thought maybe he was into Theo, but he didn’t check him out when he went to get drinks. He’s been glancing at you.”

“Lost another man to Y/N,” Theo shrugs.

“You’ve lost zero men to me,” you correct him sternly, “Because men are not interested in me.”

“Not true!” Mary argues. “I’m literally watching someone be interested in you!”

“Is he a creep?” You lean forward to whisper. Mary keeps glancing over your shoulder, so you know he’s behind you, and you’re absolutely determined not to turn around and make a scene trying to take a peek at him.

“No! He seems normal.”

You sigh. She’ll never get off your case unless you humor her. “What’s he look like?”

Mary narrows her eyes, takes a long sip of her drink, and seems to mull over her next words. “Really… normal. Floppy kinda hair. But not in a Justin-Bieber-swoopy way, ya know? Clean shaven. Simple clothes. Can’t really see if he’s got tattoos or anything.”

You try to piece together a mental image. “What color hair?”

“Eh. It’s hard to see in this light. I think brown. Maybe black?”

“How do you know he’s looking at me?”

“He’s not like, staring at you,” Mary looks down quickly, pretends to be interested in the drink menu. “Oh fuck, I think he saw me looking.” She points to a random picture of a drink, pretending to look interested. “He’s mostly on his phone, but he’ll glance over once in a while.”

“Who’s he with?”

“Nobody. I think.”

“So he’s just sitting at a table alone?”

“He’s not at a table,” Mary chances a glance up. “He’s sitting at the bar. I haven’t seen him talk to anyone so yeah, I think he’s here alone.”

“Good to know,” you murmur, taking a long sip of your drink. “Anyway…”

Your efforts to get a new conversation going last for a little while, but Mary stays persistent.

“You should go get us another round,” She suggests.

You narrow your eyes at her, lifting your half-full glass. “We don’t need another round!”

“I do,” She insists, and with an obnoxious slurping noise she gulps up what’s left in her glass through her straw.

“That’s lovely,” You nod, “Enjoy grabbing yourself one.”

Theo snorts at that. Mary is not amused.

“Y/N!” She huffs.

“What?” An edge of irritation has crept into your voice from her persistence. “Why are you always trying to matchmake me? I’m just trying to enjoy my birthday weekend!”

“Hey, you’re the one that told me you wanted this year to be different for you! You know, try new things, put yourself out there, get out of your comfort zone, all that good stuff! What better place to put yourself out there than somewhere away from home?”

You let out a long, agitated sigh. Of course Mary would turn the heart-to-heart you guys had last week into excuses for her meddling.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You huff. “I didn’t mean pick up a random creepy stranger the second I get to San Diego! I more meant, like, I wanted to go on more dates! Have more nights out with you! Get a better job!”

“Plus,” You continue, encouraged by her silence, “I was talking about the year in general. No need to rush into this weekend!”

Mary lets you finish, listening carefully to your rebuttal. But you know better, bracing yourself for her next point after she takes a long sip of her drink.

“Obviously, you have all year.” She states it like it’s an obvious fact, adjusting the hair hanging over her shoulder. “But hear me out, and stay with me here: To set up the rest of the year so that you can enjoy yourself, like freely going on dates, you’re going to have to break your dry spell.” She says the last part with her hands pressed together in prayer position, her fingertips pointing towards you.

Mary lets the first part of her message sink in while it’s your turn to sip your drink. When you’re done you fidget with your straw, eager for something to do while your cheeks heat up in a mild blush. It’s not like it’s any secret that you’ve been busy and haven’t been on a date in a… long time, and as a consequence have not been having sex, but you can’t help but duck your head, feeling called out.

“So to enjoy the rest of the year, you’ve got to do some preparation. Like jumping in a pool, right? If you want to swim, you’ve got to get in the cold water first. So I’m saying have some fun this weekend, and then you’ll be warmed up to do all the crazy, uncomfortable shit you want to this year.”

She was right, but you won’t admit it. And even if she’s right, there’s still no chance, ever, in a million years, that you’re going to go hit on a random guy at the bar.

“Mary,” You say sternly, “I am not hitting on a random ass man in this bar. The end.”

Theo, well-accustomed to the bickering that occasionally happens between you guys, finally clears his throat. Mary doesn’t say anything either. It’s obvious that the conversation is over, and the matchmaking topic is best dropped for the time being.

You take the last sip of your drink, surprised when the straw slurps. 

“I’m gonna go get another round,” You tell them, and don’t bother to take their orders. You use the moment to collect yourself, heading for the bathroom first, and that’s when you see him.

He’s just as Mary described; hunched over his phone, thumbing the screen while he takes idle sips from a bottle of beer. He’s in a dark jacket, collar pulled tight to his neck, and dark jeans. You can see his knee bouncing anxiously where it’s bent so that his feet can rest on the bar of the stool. As you pass by him, a necessary evil to get to the bathroom, he looks up. He looks away just as quick, but his eyes flit back to yours, the two of you making awkward eye contact for a millisecond before he’s looked away yet again. He sets his phone down on the bar, his fingers nervously running through his hair as he looks to the bartender as if he’s going to order, but you notice he doesn’t. You’re overly aware of the breeze between your bodies as you awkwardly step behind him, but once you’ve shimmied between him and another table you’re in the clear, ducking your head down and trying to make it to the bathroom a little faster.

When you head back to the table you make sure to walk around the perimeter of the room, avoiding the bar altogether. 

\\

The rest of the night is as fun as can be. Matchmaking topics are dropped, Mary is in a better mood when you return, and the drinks keep flowing until suddenly it’s last call. 

“Aw,” Mary groans as the bartender makes the announcement a second time. “But I’m still having fun! What sort of bar in a city this busy isn’t open twenty-four hours?”

“That is pretty dumb on their part,” You nod. “They could make a lot of money.”

“Should we grab something? Or call it a night?” Theo asks, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.

“We have been here a while,” You realize when you check the time on your phone, which has been forgotten in the business of today. “Maybe we should call it a night.” 

There’s a reluctant agreement to that until you guys stand up, shuffling your chairs back in place.

“Wait!” Mary exclaims, eyes shining as she throws her bag over her shoulder. “The hotel bar is open all night!”

Everyone’s mood seems to perk up at that suggestion, and you chew it over as you flip through your wallet, looking for some cash to pay your tab. You should probably be exhausted by now, considering the day you’ve had, but the hustle and bustle of the city at night makes it hard for you to feel tired.

“We could…” You trail off, glancing at Theo. He seems into the idea too, and by the time the three of you have paid your tabs and merged with the crowd of people heading for the doors, your plans to continue the night are set. 

The sun had set when you guys make it outside, the sky blanketing the street in a navy blue, barely any stars visible from the light pollution. The neon light from the bar sign shines over the cement, and for a moment in the quiet air the chime of the door opening and closing is the only sound.

“C’mon,” Mary giggles, and you realize you've been swimming in your own thoughts, drunker than you expected to be. She leads the way, fearlessly dashing onto the street as you and Theo stumble behind. You can see headlights making their way towards you, but they’re far enough away and you cross safely.

As soon as the car passes, and the street is shrouded in darkness again, you see him. The guy in the dark jacket is crossing too, a little ways down the road, hands buried in his pockets, head bowed towards the ground.

Instantly his presence sets you on high alert, your stomach feeling uneasy and heart palpitating. Theo and Mary are already headed through the hotel doors and you follow behind them, praying the guy hasn’t seen you. He was far enough down the street that it didn’t seem like he was coming to the hotel, but you can’t shake the fear that there’s a sinister connection between the way Mary and Theo said he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and the way you were both headed in the same direction. 

The hotel lobby is warm and glowing, and despite the late hours there are still people bustling about. You usher Mary and Theo away from the doors under the guise of trying not to block anyone’s way. You check over your shoulder in a fit of paranoia, but there’s no strange man in a dark jacket to be seen through the glass. You breathe a small sigh of relief.

“I need to go back up to the room,” Mary announces, and you see she’s examining herself in the black screen of her phone. “My makeup’s smeared everywhere.”

“I’m sure mine is too,” You agree. “Let’s head up there real quick.”

“I’m gonna go have a smoke, then,” Theo says, “So just come meet me out there when you’re done. Don’t take forever!”

You and Mary promise not to take too long before heading for the elevators, unsteady on your feet and overly giggly.

You realize that Mary was right as one of you finally gets the room key to work, and you both dash to fix yourselves up as quick as you can. You didn’t feel the slightest bit tired, and instead you were actually excited to keep the night going. Maybe it was just the alcohol pumping through your veins, but you felt a sudden surge of gratefulness for her as you dabbed away a bit of smeared mascara from your under eye.

“You were right,” you say out loud. 

Mary is leaned over the bathroom sink next to you, and you watch her eyebrows furrow. “About what?”

“Tonight,” You say, grabbing for your hairbrush. San Diego humidity has made your hair resemble a frizzy bird’s nest, and you try to smooth it back out. “It’s just got that kind of vibe, you know? You were right about needing a round two.”

“Right?” Mary gestures with her hands, makeup sponge almost hitting you in the face. 

“You’re good at getting me out of my comfort zone,” You admit. 

“Exactly!” Mary seems overjoyed at this admission, and she turns to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “That’s what best friends are for! That’s my fucking job! And I’m fucking good at it!”

You two realize how drunk you sound and burst out laughing, steadying yourselves on the marble counter.

“Okay, okay,” You say as you start to catch your breath, “C’mon, Theo’s waiting!”

“Ah, fuck him,” Mary jokes, gathering up her things and shoving them back into her purse before following you out into the hall.

“Speaking of,” Mary groans, before bringing her phone up to her ear. “Hi, babe!” She chirps happily, before rolling her eyes at you. You can’t stifle your laughter.

“We’re headed downstairs right now,” Mary confirms as she pushes the call button on the elevator. “Okay, we’ll come to you.”

Down in the lobby, you two navigate your way out of the hotel and around the corner of the building, based on the instructions Theo had given Mary on the phone.

“Hey,” Mary greets Theo when she rounds the corner. You’re right behind her, but when you turn the corner you stop in your tracks.

“Hey, guys,” Theo greets you both easily. Mary is tucking herself under his arm while another figure standing next to him watches. You recognize the dark jacket instantly, and your mouth goes dry. 

You realize you’re an awkward distance away from your friends, and force yourself to step closer, watching the other man take a puff of his cigarette. 

“This is Van,” Theo tells you both, taking a drag of his cigarette. He exhales before motioning between you two. “Van, this is Mary, my girlfriend, and this is Y/N, her best friend.” 

“Ah, Mary, that’s me mum’s name,” the british accent that comes out of the stranger startles you, and you watch as Van reaches his hand out for a handshake with Mary. “Lovely name,” He laughs. Mary takes his hand happily, and they laugh about her name for a brief moment before he’s suddenly turned to you.

“And Y/N, that’s a great name too,” You can see his grin in the darkness. “Don’t know anyone named that, but it’s a lovely name regardless.” He extends his hand to you, and you swallow thickly as you take it. His hand envelops yours, and there’s a warmth that lingers even after the handshake is done.

“So’s Van,” You say after you’ve realized how impolite your silence must seem. “Never met anyone with that name either.”

“Yeah, It’s after Van Morrison,” He quips, “But when I was born my name was Ryan. Bet you’ve met someone with that name.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Mary speaks up suddenly. You smile at the mention of an ex-fling.

“Bad associations, huh?” Van seems to find it funny, beaming at her. “Well everyone calls me Van, so hopefully that’ll be alright.”

“Anyway, before you guys walked out, I was just telling Van that he should join us tonight,” Theo chimes in. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah!” Mary, of course, is all for the idea even as your stomach continues to do somersaults. How strange was it that this guy actually was headed for the hotel? And even more strange that he ended up chatting with Theo!

Thankfully nobody notices your silence as Van tries to brush off the invite, Theo and Mary playfully pressuring him into it.

“Please!” Mary begs, “It’ll be so fun. It’s Y/N’s birthday, so the more the merrier!”

Van turns back toward you, face still covered in the grin that hasn’t left from the moment he shook your hand.

“Is it really?” He inquires, cocking his head.

“Tomorrow, technically,” You explain. “As in, it’s past midnight right now, so there’s all of today, and then it’s my birthday.”

“Oh, cheers, happy birthday. How old are ya?”

“Gonna be 24.”

“Ah, I loved 24,” Van lights up, taking a puff of his cigarette before gesturing with his hands. “One of the best years ever. Had the best fucking time.”

“How old are you, then?” You can’t help but ask.

“‘M 26. Gonna be 27 in the summer.”

“Oh. You made it sound like you were way older. Scared me.” The nagging anxiety that he’s some murderer that’s stalking you still tugs at your chest, but something about him keeps the conversation flowing, you volunteering information without thinking about it. 

“Nah. Seems like forever ago, though.”

“So you’ll get drinks with us?” Mary cuts in excitedly. 

“Well, I guess that’s up to the birthday girl,” Van laughs, gesturing to you. “Am I invited to the party?”

All of the sudden Theo, Mary, and Van are looking at you expectantly, and what were you supposed to do then?

“I mean, why not?” You can’t help but laugh, more in disbelief at how this night is turning out. “Like Mary said, the more the merrier, right?” 

“Mary’s are always right,” Van nods in agreement. Him and Theo snuff out their cigarettes on the sidewalk before heading around the corner back towards the main doors. 

You and Mary lag behind, Mary silently clapping in encouragement and you widening your eyes in an attempt to portray your anxiety. 

“You said I was right about tonight!” She hisses as you two head through the front doors. 

“About having more drinks!” You hiss back. “He’s some weirdo that’s been watching me all night and then followed me to the hotel!” You glance around for him, worried he heard, but thankfully you spot him with Theo heading into the hotel bar.

“Because you’re both at the same hotel and went across the street for drinks?” Mary asks, dubious. “He seems super nice!”

Your conversation dies out as you follow the boys to the table. It’s a small four-seater nestled in the corner, and with Mary naturally sitting next to Theo that leaves you next to Van.

In a quick motion Van’s grabbed the back of your chair from where he’s sitting, pulling it out for you.

“Oh, thanks,” You tell him, taken aback as you sit down.

“No problem,” He says casually, turning back towards Theo and continuing their conversation. You and Mary make eye contact, her eyes widening in what you can tell is pure delight.

“Let’s grab drinks,” Mary announces suddenly, hand coming to rest on Theo’s arm. He goes with her easily, leaving you and Van alone for a moment.

“I never get used to this kind of thing,” Van says. He turns toward you, but he’s looking past you at the rest of the bar. “Places being so busy at night.”

“That’s L.A. for you,” You sigh. “I guess technically we aren’t in L.A. right now, though. But still.”

Van nods in understanding. “Are you from L.A?”

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m from the midwest. From a much, much smaller town. But I live in L.A.”

“Ah. I’ve got a place there, too,” He tells you.

“Obviously you’re not from there,” You say, unable to help the smile that makes its way onto your face at the unspoken joke.

Van’s signature grin is back. “Obviously not,” He laughs. “Nah, I’m from somewhere much, much smaller, too. From the U.K., obviously.”

“Obviously,” You echo him, and you two share a smile before drinks are being set on the table, Mary and Theo having returned.

“So, Van,” Mary begins as she hands out everyone’s drinks. Van must’ve told Theo what he wanted, because there’s one for him that he accepts graciously. “What brings you to San Diego?”

“I’m in a band, actually. We’re called Catfish and the Bottlemen,” Van admits, taking a sip of his beer. “We’re on tour right now. Had a show here tonight.”

“No way! Where did you guys play?”

“The House of Blues.”

Mary sputters on her drink. “Holy shit!”

Van laughs, taking another sip. “Yeah, it was fucking incredible.”

“Sounds amazing,” Mary agrees. “We’ll have to check you guys out!”

“Yeah, for sure,” Van nods eagerly. “Y/N was just sayin’ she lives in L.A., next time we’re around there I could get you guys some tickets.”

“That’d be perfect,” Mary beams at him. 

“You’re up late!” You can’t help but blurt out. You’d checked your phone while Mary and Van were talking, and it’s closer to morning than you thought.

You realize everyone at the table is looking at you and clear your throat, putting your phone face down back on the table. “I just mean, aren’t you exhausted? After doing a whole show?”

“Nah,” Van shrugs. “It’s such a rush, the adrenaline keeps me going after. I can’t just head back to the hotel and go to sleep. Keeps my heart pumping, you know?”

You nod, even though you can’t personally identify with the experience. Just like that, any awkwardness from your random exclamation is soothed away from Van’s laid-back response, and as conversation continues to flow easily again you can’t help but marvel at his charisma. Maybe Mary was right about him not being a potential murderer.

Van’s the first to notice when everyone’s low on drinks, and politely offers to go grab another round. Everyone else had been too preoccupied in their current discussion, which consisted of questioning Van on the different aspects of U.K. culture and stereotypes. 

“Y/N, go help him,” Mary tells you, peering at you over the rim of her almost-empty glass. You blush and roll your eyes, but you listen. 

Van’s already standing at the bar, so you try to strategize the least awkward way to come up behind him. Thankfully, he sees you out of the corner of his eye, turning towards you and giving you a small smile.

“Hey,” You start nervously, leaning on the countertop next to him. “Just thought you could use some help carrying this stuff back.”

“I could, actually,” Van smiles gratefully. “I ordered it before I realized there were four of us. Was kinda hoping you’d be the one to come help.”

You blush at his words, but try desperately not to read too much into it. “Sorry,” You say suddenly, and Van’s head cocks in confusion.

“About us grilling you back there,” You explain. “I’m sure you get those questions all the time. It’s probably annoying.”

Van’s easy-going shrug makes another appearance while you two watch the bartender mix up your drinks.

“I don’t mind,” He replies. “You guys are proper funny. Anything you wanna know, I’m happy to tell ya.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, another potentially awkward moment dissolving.

Midway through his beer, Van starts shouldering on his coat, which had been hanging on the back of his chair. Your stomach sinks as you realize this is probably his way of saying goodbye. 

“Gonna head out for a smoke,” He tells the table, then nods to Theo. “You need one?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Theo declines, but there’s an edge to his voice that sounds like he’s being dishonest. You mull over why he just wouldn’t go have one when Mary pipes up.

“Y/N, you look like you need some air.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Van hesitates where he’s been pushing his chair back in.

“You’ve been yawning,” Mary explains, and her eyes widen at you for just a quarter of a second, trying to convey an urgent message. “Go get some fresh air.”

You can already feel your stomach tying itself in knots at the idea of being alone with Van. It was one thing to enjoy easy conversation with him in a group setting, never mind how he’s had to iron out your awkwardness more than once. It was a whole other thing to go pester him when you’re sure he wanted a minute alone. You stay frozen in your seat.

“Can’t have you yawning,” Van says from behind you, and you feel the back of his hand brush your shoulder playfully. “C’mon.”

You swallow hard but give in to the peer pressure, slowly rising from your seat. You glare at Mary before you turn to Van, who nods his head towards the door as you two head out together.

It’s a silent walk outside and around the corner, to the same spot you’d first met Van in just a couple hours prior. He fishes a box of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and pops one into his mouth, offering the open box to you.

“You smoke?” He inquires.

“No,” You tell him, and he goes to put the box back. “But gimme one,” You say quickly.

Van doesn’t question it, offering the box to you again. You pick one and Van fishes out a lighter. 

“Ladies first,” He hums around his cigarette, and offers the flame of his lighter to you. Once your cigarette is lit he lights his own, and you watch him visibly relax as he takes his first drag.

Off the top of your head, you figure it’s been at least a year since you’ve had a cigarette. You’ve never done it as a habit, but you’re not opposed to having one on occasion, especially on nights like these when your nerves were making you crawl out of your skin. The taste isn’t pleasant, but it’s familiar, and it soothes you.

“I’m sorry about them,” You apologize after you two have had a moment of peace and quiet. “They’re being… obnoxious.”

Van tips his head back, exhaling a puff of smoke and laughing at the same time. “Ah, don’t be. I love ‘em.”

“That makes one of us,” You joke, soliciting another laugh from Van.

Silence lapses over you two, and it leaves too much space for you to realize how attractive he is, sneaking glances at his face the way you have been all night. You catch him looking at you and quickly divert your eyes down to the pavement. But when you look back up, he’s still looking.

“You know, if they’re really buggin’ you…” Van’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the soft background noise of the street. He gives another one of his shrugs, as if what he’s about to say next isn’t important. “We could head back up to my room,” He finishes.

Your stomach squeezes, sending any butterflies in there into an absolute frenzy. You stare at him in absolute shock as you try to process what he’s said. 

“Or your room, if you prefer,” He tacks on, punctuating his offer with an inhale of his cigarette. 

As he smokes you remember your own cigarette and take a puff from it, buying yourself time to try and weigh your options. It was hard to think rationally with your heart about to pound out of your chest, but in general the more the possibility turned over in your mind, the more your mind ticked off reasons it was a good idea; You were attracted to him, and if anything went wrong, you’d be in the safety of the hotel. Plus, besides for the fake-stalking incident you overreacted about, he hasn’t triggered one red flag, which is more than you can say about any date you’ve had in the past year.

“Well, considering we’re sharing a room,” You start, exhaling smoke, “it’s probably best if we go back to yours.”

Van laughs at that, tipping his head back to rest against the brick wall. “My room it is.”

You both finish up your cigarettes with a poignant silence hanging between you. It makes your mouth go dry and your hands shake, nerves getting the best of you, and you conceal it the best you can from Van, who seems cool as a cucumber. He’s looking at you openly now, desire written clearly on his face, and it feels like the temperature outside is rising when you meet his gaze. 

“Ready to head back in?” He asks, done with his cigarette first, stomping it out.

You follow suit. “Yeah.”

Van keeps pace with you as you two head back into the hotel walking side-by-side, his hands buried in his pockets. He gets the lobby door for you, gesturing dramatically, and you laugh, feeling some of your anxiety melt away.

“I have to grab my bag,” You tell him as you two head for the elevators, which is past the hotel bar. “And tell them where I’m going.”

“Course,” Van replies, letting you lead the way to the bar.

You turn to him just as you’re about to walk in. “What’s your room number?”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “337,” He tells you.

He hangs back as you head to the table, the gravity of what you’re about to tell Mary and Theo finally hitting you. 

“Hey guys,” You say nervously as you approach. They’re wide-eyed and silent, obviously curious about how your moment alone with Van had gone.

“So, I’m gonna head up to his room,” You explain slowly, grabbing your bag off of the seat of your chair. “He’s in room 337 in case I go missing.”

“No way!” Mary exclaims, and you see her peering around your body towards where Van is standing. “I can’t fucking believe this!”

“Are you guys gonna be okay without me?” You ask. You’re mostly kidding, but there’s an edge to your voice. “I mean, this is for my birthday and all, so if you wanted me to stick around I-”

“Oh my god,” Mary says, exasperated, but she’s grinning. Theo is too. “Shut up and go! Get on with it!” She makes an exaggerated shooing gesture with her hands, before she mimes pushing you away from the table.

“Remember to use a condom!” Are her parting words as you head back to where Van’s leaned against the wall by the entrance.

“Like I said…” You say as you approach, knowing he’s seen the entire exchange even if he couldn’t hear it. He’s beaming, and when you look over your shoulder you see Theo and Mary giving you both a thumbs up, waving you away. “...Sorry about them.”

Van doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, leading the way to the elevator. It’s pretty late, the amount of people awake at this hour starting to become sparse, so the elevator comes immediately when Van calls it. Predictably, he lets you on first before he trails behind, punching the button for his floor.

The wait for the elevator to make it to the third floor is about as awkward as it usually is, maybe a little less considering there were no strangers in your breathing space. You flip through your phone even though it’s got no service and nothing will load, and Van opts to gaze around, looking lost in thought. When the elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open, Van presses his hand to the seam of the doors so you can safely exit before he follows.

“Do you always let everyone go first?” You can’t help but ask as he leads you down the hall and around a corner.

“Um,” He seems confused at the question as he pats his pockets, clearly looking for the room key. “I mean, it’s different with my mates, but usually I do. Is that not something you do here?”

“Holding the door? Yeah, sure, but I’ve never met anyone who does it as… consistently as you.”

Van’s found the key card in the inner pocket of his jacket, and he comes to a stop in front of room 337. 

“Raised with good manners, I guess,” Is his explanation as he gets the room unlocked. He turns the knob but still lets you in first, your bodies brushing slightly in the narrow doorway. It gives you goosebumps.

You don’t know what you were expecting to walk into, but you’re pleasantly surprised that his room is just like any other suite. It’s a bit more spacious than yours, but that’s due to the fact he’s only got one bed, a king bed that looks so soft it practically makes your eyes water. It’s still impeccably made, the entire room untouched except for his luggage arranged nicely by the room air conditioning unit.

“This room is nice,” He remarks from behind you after he’s put the chain on the door. “I haven’t been in here yet, not gonna lie, I was a little nervous about what we’d be walking in to.”

“Whose stuff is that?” You ask in confusion, pointing at the suitcases.

“Oh, that’s mine. Someone from the crew brings ‘em up.”

“I see,” You murmur, as Van shrugs his jacket off and slings it over the chair resting at the desk. 

“Want something to drink?” He asks, and when you look at him you notice there’s a gift basket resting on the desk, a corked bottle of wine and glasses perfectly arranged inside.

“Yeah, sure,” You agree, setting your purse down on the desk while he procures a corkscrew from the basket. 

“I’m gonna freshen up real quick,” You tell him as he goes about trying to open the bottle. You linger for just a moment, watching the way the tip of his tongue sticks out of his mouth in concentration and the fabric of his button up shirt strains over his arms before you walk away.

When you come back into the room Van’s sitting on the bed against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed over each other. He’s messing around on his phone, and on each of the bedside tables there’s a full glass of red wine, Van’s with slightly less than yours.

“Jeez, at least take your shoes off,” You laugh, his black boots looking sorely out of place on the white duvet. He looks up at you, then, his gaze following you while you make your way to the empty side of the bed and take a seat. 

“Just my shoes?” He inquires, a mischievous smile appearing. But he sets his phone aside, leaning forward and unzipping his boots, chucking them off.

“And your socks, duh,” You joke, and he obeys, and soon his bare feet are exposed.

“That all?” He asks, the pitch of his voice lower than it’d been a second ago. It makes your heart skip a beat, and you swallow thickly.

In a sudden rush of boldness you reach over, giving the fabric of his button up a quick tug. “This too, maybe.”

“Ah, but it’s got so many buttons,” Van says in faux-concern. It’s so cheesy, and you can tell he knows it from the grin on his face, but you climb up onto your knees on the bed anyway. 

“I can help,” You try to keep a straight face while you say it, but a laugh manages to bubble up despite your best efforts. Still, it doesn’t stop you from completing the task, undoing his buttons only to reveal a black t-shirt underneath.

“Sort of anti-climactic,” You tell him. 

“S’ exactly why I needed help,” He tells you, leaning forward. “Two is just too much work.”

You slide your palms over his shoulders, easing the button up off of him. The slide of your hands against his arms is the first real skin-on-skin contact you’ve had, and the feeling of his smooth skin and soft hairs is strange and exciting. 

“There you go,” You hum, tossing the shirt away from the bed. There’s a moment of panic where you wonder if maybe he’s someone who’s particular about his clothes, and you could’ve just thrown some sort of priceless designer shirt on the floor like it was nothing. But from the way he’s looking at you it’s clear a shirt on the floor is the last thing on his mind, and you exhale in relief.

“Alright, round two,” You say quietly, but Van shakes his head.

“I’ve got this one,” He murmurs. “Just needed help with the buttons.” One of the corners of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s pinched the hem of your shirt between his index finger and his thumb and given it a slight tug. “You worry about yours.”

You oblige, trying to get your top over your head as gracefully as possible. Van’s tugged his t-shirt off in record time, and you jump when you feel his cold hands help you get your shirt the rest of the way off.

Instinctually you go for his belt, starting to get into the rhythm of how these things go. He lays there quietly while you get it unbuckled and tuck your fingers against the warm skin of his stomach to unbutton his jeans, and tilts his hips up obediently so you can shimmy them down his legs. 

There’s a heavy moment where you take him in, laying back against the headboard in only his briefs. He’s got a smattering of dark hair no matter where you look; over his thighs, on his chest, in a thin line making its way under the waistband of his underwear. 

“No fair.” Van finally interrupts your gazing. “I’m the only one not wearing pants.”

It takes all your willpower to rip your eyes away from his form, but you stand up from the bed, unbuttoning and starting to peel your skin tight jeans off of your legs. He watches you the whole time, and you blame his gaze and your self-consciousness for throwing you off balance as you kick your pants off of your ankles, almost falling over.

Van is sitting up straight in a flash, his hand shooting out to steady you. It lands on your hip, his fingers digging into the skin right above your underwear, and you look up at him, gasping in a mix of mortification and surprise.

“Ya good?” Van asks quietly as you steady yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” You assure him, although you can feel your face heating up from the blunder. Van withdraws his hand and it feels like the most frustrating thing in the world, your body screaming for more.

“Sorry,” You apologize nervously as you get back on the bed, making your way over Van’s long legs and settling down next to him.

Van seems amused at your apology. “No worries,” He assures you, turning his head so he’s facing you. His face is way too close, self consciousness burning through you as you two examine each other from mere inches away.

His hand comes to rest on your side again, this time landing on the skin right under the band of your bra, and before you can inevitably make the moment awkward by any means necessary he’s leaned in, and your lips melt together.

It’s a bit chaste, but definitely not the worst kiss you’ve ever received. After a few beats Van pulls away.

“Sorry,” He grunts, shifting his body weight. “This is such a weird way to sit. My arm’s getting crushed.” He tries to move himself from where he’s pinned his shoulder against the headboard in order to face you.

You make the snap decision in that moment to slide down from where you’re sitting so that you’re laying down.

“Here,” You tell him, “Let’s try it this way.”

From the way Van’s eyes travel up and down your body, you know he’s caught your drift. 

“Yeah,” He smirks, laying down next to you. With a few minor adjustments he’s got most of his body weight pressing you down onto the bed, his nose just barely brushing yours. “This might work a bit better.”

Then he’s kissing you again. You’ve already got the chills from the way his body is pressing tight against yours, but once the kiss deepens, Van’s tongue pressing into your mouth, you can’t help but shiver. Van feels it and must think you’re cold, because a second later his palm is rubbing over your arm like he’s trying to warm you up.

Any trace of chastity or awkwardness from the initial kiss has completely disappeared, revealing Van’s true talents as a kisser, and with every second that passes you feel him climbing up your makeout leaderboard. His mouth is absolutely incredible, and tastes like the glass of red wine he’s got sitting on the nightstand, and you can’t get enough, your hand instinctively coming to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You don’t expect him to moan, the sound so satisfying your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching as much as it possibly can with him pressing you down. It only encourages Van, who exhales sharply out of his nose, the hot air brushing over your cheek, the kiss becoming more desperate.

You two separate to breathe, every inhale causing Van’s chest to brush against yours.

“Christ,” Van says quietly, and the way his voice is rough around the edges sends another shiver down your spine. He gets off of you, sitting up and reaching over for his glass of wine. You take the opportunity to sit up too, unclipping your bra and sending it over the edge of the bed. You cup your breasts in your hands, not yet ready for Van to see you exposed, but you work up some courage after a few moments, letting them go in favor of using your hands to shimmy out of your underwear. 

There’s the soft clink of Van setting his wine glass back down, and when you dare to glance over at him his expression is neutral, his eyes flitting over you.

“No fair,” You start, but have to stop to clear your throat. Van’s eyes dart up to meet yours, listening intently.

“I’m the only one naked,” You parrot his joke from earlier, and give him a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” Van’s long fingers come up to scratch at his jaw. “I guess that isn’t very fair.” Within a handful of seconds he’s chucked his briefs on the floor.

He changes position then so that he’s resting on his knees, and you hold your breath while you get a proper look at him for the first time. 

“Oh-” You start to speak, but you’ve got the common sense to swallow the rest of the sentence.

Van stills, waiting for you to finish.

“You’re… British,” You say sheepishly. 

Van chuckles, looking down at himself. “M’ uncut,” He voices your exact thoughts.

You gulp, nodding, hoping you didn’t ruin the moment.

“Same thing underneath,” Van murmurs, wrapping a hand around himself. With the slide of his wrist the foreskin moves back, revealing the flushed head of his dick. “See? Works just the same,” he quips cheerfully, looking up at you.

“Right.” You nod. “Good to know.”

The kissing resumes after you two lay down again and Van can’t keep his hands off of you, stroking at your sides and stomach and eventually your thighs.

“This alright?” He asks, pointedly brushing one of his knuckles against your inner thigh.

“Yeah, yeah” you choke out, spreading your legs so he’s got access to you.

The first press of his soft, tentative fingertips against you makes your eyes squeeze shut, but you can’t hold back your moan when he starts working in tight circles.

He teases his way lower and lower, the only sound in the room your harsh breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. When he starts to feel his way inside, slowly and methodically easing in two fingers, your back arches up off of the mattress. 

“Van-” You breathe, and feel his stomach clench from hearing his name.

“You can just-” It’s hard to get the words out with the way he’s pumping. “You should stop,” You manage finally. “We can just get started.”

Van’s fingers still, and you blink your eyes open slowly, greeted to his face mere inches from yours, his hooded eyes watching you.

“Yeah, I…” You breathe out, your face burning in self consciousness at the thought of him watching your face throughout that. “I’m definitely ready.”

“If you’re sure,” Van says slowly, and you feel his fingers slide out of you, leaving an awful empty feeling in their wake.

“Definitely sure,” You tell him, eager to feel full again. “Do you want me to…” You trail off, but Van understands the unspoken rest of your sentence.

“Probably best if you don’t,” He laughs quietly. “It’ll be over before things even get started.”

You nod against the pillows in understanding, and Van rolls over, hanging off of the edge of the bed for a moment until he rights himself, leather wallet in hand.

You watch him procure a condom from one of the folds, and then he’s getting up on his knees, shuffling so he’s in between your legs before ripping the wrapper and sliding it on.

“You settled? You ready?” He asks you, one hand on himself, the other resting on your hip, warm and reassuring. 

“Yeah,” You tell him, nervously adjusting the way your knees are bent.

“Alright,” Van says quietly, and it sounds like it’s more meant for himself. There’s a few quiet moments and the sound of the duvet rustling before you feel the head of him press against you, warm and persistent, and your body adjusts for him instinctively, letting him inside.

It’s been a while since the last time you’ve had sex, but thankfully the warm mix of attraction and your drinks from earlier leave your body relaxed. Van looks like he feels the same, any tension in his face dissolving as he eases in, replaced instead by what looks like pure relief. You feel it too, sighing contentedly.

When Van’s done pressing in, the heady feeling making it hard to breathe, you two make eye contact, the spell that had you two so engrossed in yourselves broken. 

“Good?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” You affirm. “Now get going.”

You say the last part with a smile that Van returns, and without further ado he starts trying to find the rhythm. He tests a few out while you shift your hips, attempting to find the perfect angle, and after a moment there’s a palpable feeling that you two have gotten it right, punctuated by Van’s sharp intake of breath.

The sound catches you off guard, in sync with another push in, and you gasp in surprise, one of your hands reaching out to grasp at the blankets. It only encourages Van to stay persistent in his thrusts, and you can’t help but groan.

“God,” You croak out. You release your death grip on the blankets, instead putting your hand on his back. You’re careful not to scratch him, but the feeling of him fucking you is amplified with the way you can feel his muscles strain under your hand. “Van,” You breathe.

You kept it quiet, the remnants of your usual self-consciousness still floating around in your head, but you can tell he’s heard.

“Ah, fuck,” Van moans, long and low, and your other hand comes up to grasp at him wherever it can reach as you feel the steady pulse of sparks down your spine.

Your hand lands on his shoulder blade, and it’s as if you’ve given Van some sort of unspoken permission. He leans forward, your lips meeting in a wet and clumsy kiss. It’s more panting in each other’s faces than it is actual making out, but your hand still slides from his shoulder to his jaw, taking care of guiding the kiss while he’s in his distracted state.

You can feel him starting to come apart, missing a beat with his hips every so often and letting out a whine when you take charge of deepening the kiss, tilting his jaw with slightly more force than necessary so you can lick into his parted lips. You’re getting close too, so you decide to let go of his face, instead slipping a hand between your bodies so you can start to rub at yourself.

Van’s head sinks down to your neck, kissing at any skin he can reach while you cry out at all the sensations your body’s trying to take in at once.

There’s a shift of Van’s body weight, his lips leaving your neck. You want to yell at him for taking his lips off of you but you’re too preoccupied with getting your fingers to match the pace he’s set, every moment in sync taking you closer to the edge.

Without any warning there’s the warm brush of the pad of his thumb against your nipple, and your whole body jolts with it.

You’re too distracted to moan but your jaw falls slack. That’s all the approval Van seems to need, starting a very light pace with his thumb, brushing over you back and forth.

“Is it good?” He asks quietly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You can hardly form a proper word with your mouth. “Huh?”

“This bit,” Van clarifies, and his thumb rubs your nipple more insistently. “Do you like that?”

“Yeah,” You manage, your eyes squeezing shut, closer than you thought. You can sense that Van understands the gravity of the moment, his movements all becoming very precise and impeccably consistent.

“Don’t stop,” You can’t help but beg.

“Won’t,” Van assures you quietly, and he holds true to his word, fucking into you and circling your nipple without fail as you feel your orgasm start to crash down upon you, squirming and calling out through the entire thing.

You lay there catching your breath when you’re done, Van free to set his own rhythm to get himself to the finish line. He speeds up, setting a frantic pace that you can hear as your skin slaps together with his. 

“What do you need?” You slur, removing your hand from yourself in favor of rubbing over his back again.

“Nothin’,” Van answers, his voice tight and slightly higher-pitched. “Nothin’.”

You stay quiet, leaving him to it, and after a few ragged breaths you can feel the way his whole body goes rigid, thrusting fast but shallow as he rides out his climax, burying his head in your shoulder and biting down hard.

You yelp in surprise from the pinch of his teeth, but let him stay there until he’s done, when he releases you with a long, content sigh.

There’s nothing said as you two catch your breath, your brain attempting and failing to find words for the experience.

“Shit,” Van sighs after your breathing has slowed.

“Holy shit,” You agree. You’ve been looking up at the ceiling, but you turn to look at him. The angry red indent from his teeth against your shoulder catches your peripheral vision, and you crane your neck more fully, examining the crooked lines of his teeth pressed into your skin.

“Sorry,” Van says. “I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

It’s so refreshingly sincere, so different from the few other apologies you’ve received from men during sex, their smug faces usually indicating their value for their pleasure over yours. You actually laugh.

“Totally fine,” You tell him, and you mean it.

Van heaves himself up from where he’d flopped down, half on top of you and half on the bed, and carefully pulls out, the sensation of the heavy condom sliding out of you making you cringe. You watch his long fingers tie it off before he clamors off of the hotel bed on shaky legs, depositing it in the garbage by the coffee maker before nipping off to the bathroom.

“Ugh,” You sigh, starfishing out your limbs on the empty bed.

“Do you care if I don’t go back to my room right this second?” You ask Van as soon as he emerges from the bathroom.

“Whatever you wanna do,” Van shrugs. As he approaches his side of the bed he starts to tug the duvet down. “At least get under the sheets with me.”

You shimmy your way under the sheets, your body melting with the heavenly feeling.

“Mind if I shut the lamp off? It’s starting to give me a headache shining in my eyes.” He asks.

You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand. “Go ahead.”

With a click the room is shrouded in darkness, the only exception being the blue glow of Van’s phone.

You yawn. “What time is it?”

“Five.”

“Are you not tired?” You ask him around another yawn. “Even after your show and everything?”

His smile looks tired. “My body’s on a different time.”

“Oh.” You curl up under the covers. “I’ll go in a second, I promise. I’m just fucking exhausted. Unlike you.”

Van snorts in amusement, but you miss his facial expression, your heavy eyelids falling shut.

\\

You wake up to the echo of running water and the glow of the lamp painting your eyelids red.

You squirm, tugging the blanket around your head so you can peacefully return to sleep, but as you start to doze off the water abruptly stops, and you can hear the clatter of Van getting out of the shower.

Soon he comes out of the bathroom, singing softly under his breath as you hear the rip of different zippers through the air.

You kick your legs out, shuffling around sleepily. “What time is it?”

“Seven thirty. Sorry if I woke you. I was trying to let you get a couple hours of sleep in.”

“Did you sleep at all?” You ask him, concerned, as you peer over where he’s bent in front of a suitcase, hair dripping wet and a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist.

“I slept for a good hour,” He shrugs, before he’s gotten what he needs and heads back into the bathroom. “Probably steal a couple more on the bus.”

“Where are you headed next?” You can’t help but ask, raising your voice so he can hear you from the other room. 

“Got no idea, to be honest,” Van tells you. He stands in the bathroom doorway, in the process of running a brush through his hair. “That’s a good question for Steve, actually.”

“Our tour manager,” He’s quick to tack on after he notices your blank stare. “He keeps track of our schedule.”

“Oh.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“I guess I should get going,” You say awkwardly after a moment of silence. “I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, sorry. I haven’t stayed up that late in forever.”

Van seems to think that’s funny, giving a quick laugh as he goes for something else in his bag.

“God, my contacts are so dry,” You complain, rubbing at your eyelids in hopes of clearing the foggy film clinging to your vision. It doesn’t work, and you flop back down onto the hotel bed, sighing as you try to gather the willpower to get up and get your things.

“What shirt size do you wear?” Van asks.

You tell him, and after a moment feel a soft thud of something landing on the bed. You sit up to see a rumpled lump of fabric.

“One of our shirts,” Van explains. 

You grab the gift, holding it up to examine it. “Um… What is it?”

Van lets out a belly laugh at that. “It’s our next album cover.”

“Oh, alright. Thanks,” You tell him, sliding it on immediately. It feels weird to still be naked, and you’re grateful you don’t have to get into the tight top you were wearing last night.

You go through the process of retrieving all your scattered clothes from the night before, made less awkward by the fact Van is preoccupied with getting himself ready. You cram your bra and top into your purse before shimmying back into your skintight jeans and getting your shoes on.

You do a quick once-over, making sure you’ve grabbed everything as Van pulls a fresh button up over his shoulders.

“You, uh,” He starts hesitantly. When you look over, he wipes underneath one of his eyes with the tip of his finger. “You look like you’ve got a black eye.”

You realize in that moment you’d rubbed at your contacts while you were still wearing makeup. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, heading into the bathroom and trying to clean up the mess. “Thanks for letting me know. Mary probably would’ve been worried.”

“Wouldn’t want Theo catching me in the lobby,” Van jokes, and you two laugh for longer than what was probably warranted.

“I was wonderin’, before you go, if I could get your number. For those tickets the next time we’re playing in L.A..”

“Oh, definitely,” You say, extra enthusiastic to assure him of your interest.

There’s a knock at the door, and you hear Van answer it, talking to someone for a moment.

“Got interrupted for a second,” Van tells you, and when you come into the room you see he’s loading his luggage onto a bellman cart. “But perfect. Lemme grab my phone.”

He retrieves his phone off of the bed, typing into it for a moment before he offers you a screen to enter your contact information.

“And y’know, the next time I’m staying in L.A. I’d love to have dinner.”

He says it so casually, no trace of nerves even as the question hangs in silence.

“Me too,” You offer him a smile as you hand his phone back, a satisfied look spreading over his face. “I’d love that.”

“It’s settled, then,” Van punctuates the deal with a nod, walking you to the room’s door and undoing the deadbolt for you.

“Alright. Well, see ya?” You offer as a goodbye, internally cringing.

“See ya,” Van echoes, swinging open the heavy wooden door for you. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

With that you step out into the hallway, Van shutting the door softly behind you. You hadn’t realized how awake the outside world was while you were safely cocooned in Van’s quiet room; There are a few doors open, the smell of hotel room service wafting around. There’s a luggage cart supporting a mismatched stack of suitcases that’s haphazardly rolled so it’s blocking a doorway, and you startle when the door behind the cart swings open. 

There’s a deer-caught-in-headlights moment between you and the man in the room, before he examines the obstacle.

“Jesus Christ, Bond,” The man groans, struggling to roll the cart out of his way. “It’s too early for this!”

You hear a deep chuckle come from one of the open doorways, before a man in a newscap sticks his head out into the hall. “C’mon, Blakes, food’s here! I got you your ice cold oatmeal and raw eggs in a cup, just as requested.”

The man in the hat notices you standing here, and you watch the way his eyes latch onto the t-shirt Van’s given you. But he’s gone just as soon as he appeared, and you head for the elevators despite the nagging feeling you should’ve helped the guy that was barricaded.

Once you’re on the elevator, you realize with a start that you’d just unknowingly met two of Van’s bandmates. 

\\

As quiet as you try to be, of course Mary wakes up as soon as you slip into your shared room.

“How did it go?” She stage whispers, and you notice Theo’s still asleep.

“It was…” You take a deep breath. You knew these questions were coming, and had tried to properly prepare for them, but you still couldn’t comprehend last night.

“Incredible,” You eventually settle on.

Mary’s face lights up at that. “What’d you guys do?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your smile.

“Did you fuck him?” She asks. “Please tell me you fucked him.”

As hard as you try to conceal it, your smile widens.

Mary gasps. “You did, didn’t you?”

When you nod, Mary leaps off of her and Theo’s bed, sitting cross legged in her sleep shirt on yours. 

“Tell me everything!” She begs.

“Hold on,” You shush her. “Let me get out of these damn jeans. And take my contacts out.”

“I can’t believe it,” Mary muses to herself as you peel the denim back off of your skin. “I can’t believe you’ve finally had your first one night stand.”

“Me either,” You admit, screwing the lid on your contact case closed.

“How was he?”

“Amazing. So nice,” You gush, sitting down on the bed with her. “It’s like, no matter how awkward I was, he just thought it was funny! It was the weirdest thing ever!”

You recount most of last night’s details back to Mary, making sure to include the part where you almost fell over, awkwardly called out the fact he was uncircumcised, and almost left his room with racoon eyes before meeting two of his bandmates in the strangest circumstance. You talk until your throat is dry and you’re exhausted, climbing under the covers to resume the peaceful sleep you’d been in the process of getting in Van’s bed.

\\

The next day you get a text from a phone number you don’t recognize while you’re out shopping.

Happy birthday. Van x

Thank you, you send back, but there’s no reply.

\\

Read Chapter 2 here

[andreawetzels]

Andrea's guide to Barcelona

I spent the past 5 months living and working in the beautiful and vibrant city that is Barcelona. I have written all my favourite spots in a small notebook, but I thought it would be a good idea to write it down once more. This time in the online world of Tumblr (so I can find it too in the future).

Favourite neighbourhoods:

El Born (lots of cool shops, think of concept stores and gift shops)

El Raval (a bit alternative, you can find various graffiti paintings)

Barrio Gótico (basically the heart of the centre)

Touristic Things:

La Rambla (not very special to me, but it’s nice to have seen it)

Placa de Catalunya (if you want to see the busiest square and shopping streets of Barcelona, then definitely go here!)

La Sagrada Familia (the most famous church in Barcelona of course, if you are under 30 and go on a Sunday after 16:00, you’ll get a discount, which means you can visit the church, go up on one of the towers ánd get the audio guide for 15 euros)

Park Güel (there’s a free nature park, which is great to walk around, but also make sure you visit Park Güel and take a photo on the famous bench)

Placa d’Espanya (walk up the stairs for a view of Barcelona)

Magic fountain (near Placa d’Espanya, fountain show with lights and music)

Camp Nou, FC Barcelona game (even if you don’t like football, it still is cool to watch a FC Barcelona game and experience the atmosphere)

Do the Gaudi houses tour (on your own, for free, look it up on the web and give yourself a tour!)

Swim & Chill

Favourite beach: Playa del Bogatell (bit more quiet, more locals there, less annoying people who want to sell stuff and a cleaner sea)

Piscines municipales Montjuïc (the olympic swimming pools of Barcelona, great way to cool off and get an amazing view of the city. Make sure to bring your own drinks and food because there aren’t really food places nearby. It’s also a good idea to bring a hat because there aren’t many shadow places.)

Parc de la Creueta del Coll (beautiful parc with small pool/lake, a lot of locals with small kids go there)

Vintage shops and markets:

Lost & Found Market (basically a big flea market, I wasn’t a big fan of it)

Two Market (everything only costs 1 euro, but the entrance fee is also 1 euro, if you go early you can definitely find something cool and cheap)

You will find most vintage shops on Carrer Tallers, like: Holala vintage, Flamingo, Flamingos vintage kilo, etc.

If you’re looking for new and second hand vinyl or cds, go to Revolver Records on Carrer dels Tallers 11. They also sell band shirts.

Palo Alto Market (great market every Saturday and Sunday with food trucks, clothing, lifestyle goods, live music and much more!)

Nature & Sights

Ciutadella park (a lot of green, also a lot of people who do work-outs there)

The Montjuïc (one of the most famous hills in Barcelona, there are also a lot of touristic things to visit there, my recommendation is to go to the Teleferico Barceloneta and take the cable car to the Montjuïc)

Tibidabo (visit the Basílica and go up on the tower for a fantastic view)

Bunker El Carmel (it is quite a walk, bring some food and drinks, go in the late afternoon and have a nice picnic while watching the sunset)

Parc del Laberint d’Horta (nature park to walk around, which also features a maze!)

Food & Drinks

En Ville (very fancy menu del dia, if you’re into that)

La Tagliatella (good and cheap chain Italian food)

UDON (cheap fast food, asian style, go for their variation of the menu del dia)

Spice cafe (best carrot cake in town, seriously!!! Also try their homemade raspberry lemonade, it’s very refreshing)

Federal café (great for brunch, nice poached eggs, also a good place to work at)

Surf House (especially great in summer, after an afternoon at the beach, have the burger, fries and mayo-mango sauce or the phi phi salad!)

Eyescream and friends (very cute shaved ice cream with little eyes on them, you can choose the ice cream flavour and two toppings. It’s super yummy, they have cute branding and it’s very instagrammable!)

Bacoa (if you like eating burgers, this is the place to go to!)

Maka Maka (also a great burger place, with a very nice looking exterior)

La Boqueria Market (thé food market in Barcelona, definitely worth a visit, buy a cup of fruit or a smoothie or try a macaron ice cream sandwich from MIMA Ice Cream)

Brunch & Cake (delicious and extremely good looking brunch food! They have two locations, one by the sea and one in the city. Be sure to come early, because it gets very busy and you’ll have to wait in line to get a table)

FOC BCN (great latin food and cocktails, but make sure to tell the staff if you don’t like coriander)

Cosmo bar (very hip and trendy looking bar with great food, amazing cakes and nice coffee & juices)

Café Cometa (same owners as Cosmo bar, same hip-trendy-quirky restaurant, but with more light and it’s a bit more relaxed. Try the munch brunch, you can assemble your own brunch plate)

Chök the Chocolate Kitchen (amazing donuts and cronuts, they have two locations, but not a lot of seats, mainly focused on take-away, try the Kinder bueno donut)

Trópico (healthy and tropical foods and AMAZING juices and smoothies, try the smoothie with pink dragon fruit!)

Ice Wave (they take cream, add your toppings and create it into ice-cream rolls, which is already a show to watch on its own, they also sell fantastic ice-cream crepes)

Gaudí Bakery (incredible cakes, also great to take-away, try the Red Velvet!)

Can Dendê (Very cute little brunch/lunch place, try the pink lemonade, bagel with salmon and waffle fries)

El Nacional BCN (bit more expensive, but definitely the most beautiful eating place with multiple restaurants inside, especially magical around Christmas time)

Granja Petitbo (restaurant with a vintage and hip looking decor, try the waffle with cheese, chicken, spinach and strawberries)

Syra Coffee (brilliant coffee, kind baristas and amazing sweet goods from Lukumas)

Flax & Kale (worth a visit for the healthy food lovers, try the pink salmon burgers, coconut yoghurt with fruit and granola or the banana bread, or ALL OF THEM)

Tapas tour (book yourself a tapas tour and learn more about the history and culture of Barcelona, while eating tapas at various places)

Museums and Art

MACBA Museu d’Art Contemporani (Keith Haring mural

Museu Picasso (

Disseny Hub Barcelona (if you’re into design, then go here! From graphic design to furniture, there often also are cool exhibitions)

Google online for a free street art tour (or find a tour yourself and go explore the city!)

CCCB (museum with contemporary art, last time I was there, they had three exhibitions going on, very interesting!)

On Placa d’Isidre Nonell, there’s a mural of two lips kissing each other, made out of small photos: “The sound of a kiss is not as loud as that of a canon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer.”

Clubs, bars and parties

Brunch in the park/Brunch in the city (in the summer, there’s brunch in the park on the Montjuïc, which is really cool, in the winter it’s in the city, most of the time in Poble de Espanyol)

Sala Apolo (a lot of events, but especially concerts, I went to Allah-Las for example, very authentic venue)

Paradiso (if you go through the vintage fridge doors, you’ll find yourself a secret bar with amazing cocktails! Try the pineapple one)

Shôko (club which often has R&B, hiphop and classics playing)

The Lime House (cheap and strong mojitos)

The George Payne (Irish bar for a night of karaoke, they also sell a cheap black-out tray for 20 euros you’ll get: 2x Sex on the Beach, 2x Sangria, 1 caraffe of Vodka + Redbull, 2 shots Jäeger, 2 shots Tequila and 2 shots Sambucca)

Pacha (club if you’re more into techno/deep house)

[hnrcatering6]

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[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

soulmate!tom holland au

a/n; ugh hi. i’m so sorry this took so long to get up. there’s been a lot shit going on with my college moving online and my anxiety going berserk and yeah. also once i wrote this it didn’t turn out as well as i wanted it too so i didn’t really want to post it but i hyped it up so...i’m just going to post it. it’s not the best but...enjoy !

warnings; mentions of abuse in one scene, mistakes here and there

word count; 2.3k

No one knows how it started. 

Some believe the original Greek myth; that Zeus was terrified of the power the original human form had and split them in two, forced to live the rest of their lives searching the world for their other half. 

Others believe whatever their chosen religion preaches; that God wants them to stay monogamous with one person and never stray to the Devil. That the Hindu Gods say that good dharma follows meeting your chosen one. 

Few don’t believe anything at all. They say soulmates are a load of crap. That the words etched on our skin from the moment we’re born means nothing. That the Universe can’t decide who we love, we choose. 

You were one of these people. 

At first you loved the thought of soulmates. That someone out there was destined for you, would always love you no matter how many times you trip over your own feet or spill a drink down the front of you. Someone out there was ready to cuddle you after a depressive episode or help you breathe through the anxiety attacks. It was magical to think about. 

But years passed, first meetings with numerous people came and went. And as your friends found their loves, as you watched your parents grow old and happy together, as you gave your sister the ring to go on her wife’s finger, as everyone found someone while your words remained black, you began to lose hope. 

Until you met him. Him with the stormy blue eyes and caramel hair. Him with the charming smile and tan skin. Him with the nice lips and funny personality. You fell almost as soon as you met. Your words didn’t turn gold, they did burn and send a shock through your system. But your heart skipped a beat. Your hands shook and your stomach flipped, and that’s all you needed to say yes to a date. And then another, and another, and another until you were moved in with him and smiling every day from his texts. 

It was great. It was nice. It was as magical as you thought being with your actual soulmate would be. You forgot about the words on your arm, about the stories of what being with your soulmate feels like and what being with someone not can do to your body. You were in love. 

It was perfect. 

Until it wasn’t. 

-

-

His words were in place that someone had to really look in order to see them. 

And he’d never let anyone look. 

As a child it was fine, no one cared about his words other than his family. 

As a teen, after The Impossible after In the Heart of the Sea, it changed. He had to actively make sure no one saw. It wasn’t that hard. Pants all the time, long swim trunks, no nudity scenes, which, was a given since he was a kid. 

For years Tom did good at hiding the silly words. Silly because who says “I think i’m going to pass out” when they first meet someone? He did good. 

Until he didn’t. 

Until Harrison scared him when he was leaving the bathroom in the middle of the night in just his boxers. Until Harrison decided to post the video and Tom let him, not thinking. Until the video went viral and it all went to shit. 

The only good thing was that not the whole sentence went public. Just the first three words. “I think i’m -” and that's it. 

But it was enough. 

After that Tom had random people coming up to him daily to yell at him sentences starting with “I think i’m -”. Signings and red carpet events were never the same. Casual golfing outings with his dad and brothers became crowded and unfun. One time someone did get it right. They locked eyes with him at a red carpet event, screamed it in his face, and smiled. But he felt nothing. There was panic at first. An ‘oh shit is this it?’ But his arm felt fine. His body felt fine...as fine as it could when faced with a bunch of screaming fans and cameras in his face...but fine nonetheless. 

Tom always loved the idea of a soulmate. Of someone being there for him to help run lines, to walk down carpets with him and support him through all his endeavors. 

But now he’s convinced his one and only soulmate is his dog. 

-

-

“I’m going to be late for work David. You have to let me go.” You try not to let your voice shake as the grip on your arm tightens. The bruise there from the last time he prevented you from leaving is still fresh and you know by the time you get to work it’ll be a vibrant purple. 

“Why do you even stay at that place anyway? How many times have I told you that I can provide for you! You don’t need to go an whore yourself out every night.” He says it with such (fake) compassion you’d think he really meant it. But then he goes ahead and says that word and you’re reminded of the type of person he truly is.

“I’m a waitress not a stripper. I just take orders and try not to drop trays. David, seriously, I have to go.” You yank your hand away as hard as you can and hold it to your chest. He scoffs out a demeaning laugh, one that shakes you to your core and let’s you know you fucked up. You don’t even see, more feel it, as his hand makes a sharp contact with the side of your head. 

“Don’t. Talk to me like I’m some dimwit. I know what you do at that place. You flash a little breast, bend over just a little too far, you’d do anything to get a tip. I wouldn’t be surprised if you went out to the alley on your breaks.” He sneers and laughs and pushes your head down when you try to stand up. “Look at this. You’re in your element aren’t you? On your knees begging for more.” 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“I - I don’t - I don’t do -” Your head is starting to pound. His laughing became distorted. Where did he hit you? You’re on your ass in the next second, his smug face getting ready to spit at you.

“Get out of my house bitch.” And you do as fast as you can. 

-

-

“Haz, mate, can’t we just get takeaway again? I really don’t feel like going out.” Tom huffs as Harrison throws him his jean jacket. 

“You never feel like going out anymore. So that’s why we’re doing this. It’s three blocks down the road mate so get up off your arse and let’s go.” It’s true. Since returning from his most recent press tour Tom decided to take a break from everything, acting, press, social media, going out into the public eye; anything to avoid getting asked about his soulmark or getting another fake soulmark declaration. It’s easier to be a hermit than to fake a smile and change the subject. 

“Tom. Please. I’ll pay okay. I’ll even let you get dessert just, anything to get you outside.” The pain is obvious in Harrison's voice and it hits Tom to his core. 

“Haz, you know i’m not mad at you. I never was. I'm just...fine. Let’s go.” Harrison smiles at his best friend and they leave his apartment in search for food. 

-

-

“Y/N darling, are you okay? You don’t look too well.” God bless your boss for being one of the rarer ones who have a heart. 

“Yeah Michelle I’m fine. I just hit my head getting out of the car.” The lies come so easy now you almost believe them yourself. 

“Are you sure, love? I can call in someone to cover.” You shake your head no, but that was a mistake, it makes the room spin too much and the music playing overhead go weird. 

“I’m fine. I gotta clock in.” You leave Michelle standing in her office and hope she knows to leave well enough alone. You got this. You’ve worked through a concussion before. You got this. 

-

-

You don’t have this. 

An hour into your shift the room is constantly shifting and your head is pounding and when did Michelle turn up the music the max? Water. Some water will help, yeah. 

“Y/N! Table four!” God why does everyone have to be so damn loud. 

“Yep.” You think you say. You aren’t entirely sure. You take a few deep breaths before grabbing your notepad and heading to table four. It’s two boys around your age and the one looks like he’d love to be anywhere but here. One more deep breath and - oh - oh no.

“I think I’m going to pass out.” You're too busy falling to the ground to feel the burning on your arm. 

-

-

“This place is a bit fancy Harrison, aren’t we underdressed? Maybe we should go back home.” Tom goes to turn but hands on his shoulders stop him and guide him inside. Eh, worth a shot.

“C’mon man, the food is great. Better than the cheap chinese and pizza you’ve been eating the past two weeks.” 

“Hey, you promised you wouldn’t judge my eating habits.” They laugh a bit as a hostess leads them to their table. They thank her and begin to look at the menus in a companionable silence. It’s a few minutes before Tom sees someone approaching from the corner of his eye. He looks up, and his heart skips a beat.. 

You’re beautiful. From your eyes to your lips to the way your hands wrap around the notepad. You’re beautiful. But...you’re sick. Yeah, that’s definitely sweat on your brow and deep breathing you’re doing. 

The words are out before he can stop them. 

“Are you okay love?” And then his heart really does stop. 

“I think I’m going to pass out.” You fall to the ground in a lump and people around you jump into action. Tom is one of them. His burning thigh telling him he has to stay by you no matter what. He slaps Harrisons’ hand away as he tells him to back up. He yells for someone to call for help. He keeps his fingers on your pulse point just to make sure. Just to make sure he doesn’t lose his soulmate before he gets a chance to know them. He didn’t go through all those fake declarations and over-interested reporters and consoling family members to lose you now, the moment you meet. 

“Sir, you need to back up. Sir, sir. Back. Up. You can ride with us but you need to let us get to them. Please.” It physically pains Tom to back away. To see you be loaded on a gurney like a sack of potatoes. But he’s allowed in the ambulance. He’s allowed to hold your hand and whisper in your ear and pray to any God in head that you’re fine. Because you are. 

You have to be. 

-

-

It’s too bright when you wake up. Too bright and too cold, so you know you’re not home. The beeping next to you is also a definite giveaway. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the slight pain in your head and letting your eyes adjust. It’s a hospital room. You’re in a hospital room with an IV in your arm and thin blankets covering your body and a pulse oximeter on your right hand. And on your other hand is...another hand? That’s not Davids? 

“You’re up. Oh God you’re up. We gotta - we gotta page a nurse. Nurse!” Who the hell is this dude and why is he yelling so goddamn loud? 

“Oh shit love i’m sorry. I - you’re right this is - okay, introductions - um, I’m -” The door opening cuts him off and your eyes divert from his, admentaly attractive face to a doctor and a nurse carrying a new IV bag. 

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. Good to see you’re awake. Do you know what happened?” the doctor asks. She comes over to your right side and begins to shine a pen light in your eyes. . 

“Um. I passed out.” 

“Yeah. You had a mild concussion which usually doesn’t cause such a drastic reaction but combined with it’s starting location and your dehydration, the passing out occurred. Luckily though, I predict a speedy recovery with the IV fluids and rest.”  She’s smiling softly while she goes along and writes on your chart. 

“Um. I just - I just hit my head getting out of the car. It was a little bump, I swear. How could it cause a mild concussion?” This is not good. Not good at all. David is going to walk in any moment and you’ve had this doctor before. You know she’s going to push for more conversations, again. A tightness forms in your chest and you’re ready for the panic attack, but then it...stops? Suddenly a feeling of calm and warmth spreads over you. That never happens. It spreads from your chest down to your fingertips and all the way to the tips of your toes. Your arm is burning, a soft sort of fire that makes you glance at it and gasp. There, the words that you thought would permanently be black are a glittery gold. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” the doctor asks, but all you can do is nod silently. “Okay, well, we’ve changed your IV and put some painkillers next to your water pitcher. We’ll be back to check on you in a bit, okay darling?” You nod again, your eyes not leaving the soulmark. 

“Um. So yeah. I see, you see it.” The guy next to you says. You look over at him, at his honey brown eyes and soft smile that forms a little dimple on the one side. It’s cute. 

“Soulmate. You - you’re my -” A smile involuntarily comes over your face, a real smile that feels like it won’t leave anytime soon.

“Um, heh, yeah. I’m Tom.” That’s a nice name. 

-

-

You’re smiling. You’re smiling and it’s beautiful and Tom can’t look away. 

“Y/N,” you say. And yeah, yeah you’re definitely his soulmate.

[cybermoonmoon]

“...each other”

The Holiday season the Yule is our pole star. One that the whole year revolves around. I remember back when cars were covered in chrome children could wander safely, and you could have TV in any color as long as it was black, and white. In that time before we jammed flags into da Moon and Mars. When online meant waiting to get into a movie. I remember Aunts, and Uncles tons of cousins' friends pouring into each other’s houses. These for the grand slams of Thanksgiving Christmas and the New Year.

I remember our house.

All dolled up our traditional six-foot tree the aroma of cooking. Decorations some going back to the early 1900's mixed with flashy electrics of the then 50’s. Dad, and the uncles all gathered in the daddy spots yacking guy stuff. Work sports the army…WW2 recently over. That and what routes they took to get out here. Most came on Eisenhower's new Interstates. I remember the railing paint was still fresh!

My Ma, and the aunts in the mommy space…the kitchen. Going on about how them uncles drove them totally crazy who was graduating college and who was having a baby. Babies. I remember babies showing up all the time. Endless new cousins even a new sister.

Meanwhile our dog Brownie was under the table listening. That’s what dogs do for kids. They listen to what’s really going on. Then tell all good girls, and boys what’s coming their way. Good Dog!

Presents.

Besides tearing the house and yard apart my siblings' cousins and I dreamed. We wondered at the neat stuff coming our way. Santa never let us down. …mostly. Still waiting for that dammed bike from 1959! Com'on Santa, you owe me. Despite gaffs we was seriously into that guy.

The Sears Roebuck Christmas catalogue that the mailman would slip us was an instruction manual for Yule heaven. We thought Santa ran Sears. At least at Christmas. ...made sense at the time.

Before the age of fast-food gluttony folks only pigged out once or twice a year. This was da deal for over a thousand years. Enter the Christmas Turkey aka Thanksgiving part two. It was swell. In this rant all the holidays morph together into one long meal...because it was.

My ma made this magical veggie stuffing. She was always ahead of the curve. Magic is da word. Yeah, there was static every kind of family has plenty but bleep it. It was the Yule. We was all gleefully stuck together in the weird but loving amber of family and friends.  We had each other. …and it mattered.

The House.

All gewgawed out. Collaged for Thanksgiving Christmas New Years missed birthdays and efforts at peace offerings. Life is complicated. Lights bright decorations cards on every surface. The aroma of cooking filled every room. Near every house. While playing outside we could smell the turkeys' pies cakes sauces everywhere every street.   Homelessness happened during the Depression and was over. It's cruel return was still decades away.  

Later we sat said grace meant it then the passing of food. All manner of wonders. Laughing the telling of stories, fights almost starting then fizzing out over cider. The damned electric trains chasing itself around the tree. The tree btw bright blinking it’s soul to heaven.  We were family we were friends we were together.

Remember these were Depression, and WW2 folks. Those that could made sure their kids had at least a taste of security. As my ma told me years later. She dad, and our aunts, and uncles. They gave us our cousins everyone good memories on purpose. They knew what desperation was, and what it did. They deliberately created a sense of harmony despite everything. They so loved us.

There was music. My family all sides played instruments. Before the digital era it was common for folks to play their own music. In them days This when ash trays were all over the place and integration was slowly becoming a good idea. Folks made their own music. Having instruments, and sheet music around da house was normal...as were manners.

We sang carols. My dad played the piano assorted uncles aunts accompanied on violin and viola. Everyone sang. Even me shy as I was. We really believed in things. Each other our country…even G-d.

Yule gatherings have been with us for 1000's years. Observed by many peoples around the world. It was nearly the first thing our species figured out...just after beer. Family friends gather at certain points in the year for a reason. A kindly one. In times like now with divisions war plague it's even more important. Keep Love in your hearts. Bless you all. Be brave be safe be wise be kind

[shutupandshipit]

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.15

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 15/20

Previously <- Chapter 14: Fighting

Chapter 16: Heats and Ruts -> Next

Chapter 15: Gross Holiday Activities

Izuku was lying in bed staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted, had been exhausted for the entire week. No one had warned him just how much presenting would take out of him, let alone just how terrible going through heat would be. That’s not something they talk about in school. They talk about the biological mechanisms of why secondary genders exist. About how wonderful and beautiful heats and ruts were. ‘They help us create life,’ he remembered his teacher intoning.

After this first heat, he didn’t think they were all people had made them out to be.

The only good thing that came from presenting was that if Katsuki wanted to return to partner skate one day, they could still be partners. Izuku could only hope that one day Katsuki would want to.

A soft knock tapped at his door.

The person didn’t wait for him to reply before pushing open the door. Cinnamon and star anise and sugar wafted towards him, and Izuku knew without looking who had entered his room. His scent had never been so strong before, but it was so very familiar.

“Kacchan?” he mumbled, turning to look at the newly presented alpha where he stood in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Get dressed,” he said as answer.

“I’m tired, Kacchan,” Izuku said even as he slowly pulled back the covers and slid his feet to the floor. He felt weak like even if he stood up his legs wouldn’t be able to hold his weight. Sighing heavily, he scrubbed at his eyes. “How did you get in? I didn’t think Mom would let you in since…” He trailed off, eyes on his toes as he curled and uncurled them.

“You really think Auntie would let me being an alpha change her opinion of me?” Katsuki crossed his arms, leaning against the very noticeably open door. Normally, when he came over, Katsuki would come in and immediately close the door. Either Inko had talked to him, or he was already conducting himself in a way that wouldn’t make Inko’s opinion change.

It made Izuku sad. Things would never be the same for them from here on out. Everything was going to change no matter how hard he fought against it.

Izuku shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just surprised.” He didn’t move.

“Are you going to get up or am I going to just go on my own?” Katsuki snapped, impatience in his voice, but also the same exhaustion Izuku was harboring.

“Where are we going?”

“The outdoor rink opened today. You hate missing the first day.”

Katsuki didn’t have to say anymore. Izuku heaved himself out of bed with a groan, and hurried to find something clean-ish to pull on. Something that didn’t smell overwhelmingly of his heat. On their way out, Izuku’s hand trapped in Katsuki’s, he called, “We’re going to the outdoor rink, Mom!”

Inko shuffled out of the kitchen with a small bag, handing it to Katsuki. Miso soup or green tea that she always gave them before they went out on cold winter days. “Be safe, you two. Mitsuki is coming with you?” she asked, chaffing her hands together worriedly.

Katsuki nodded, face looking more severe than ever with the deep black bags beneath his eyes. “She’s waiting in the car.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you two in a little bit. Call if you won’t make it back for dinner, baby.” With that, she hugged Izuku tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

When they slid into the backseat of the car, Mitsuki and Masaru turned to smile at Izuku. “How are you feeling, Izuku?” Masaru asked conversationally as Mitsuki turned back around to watch the road, “You’ve had a long week just like Katsuki, haven’t you?”

Izuku nodded, tightening his fingers around Katsuki’s. “It was really tiring, but I’m happy to be out of the house.”

“We’re glad to help. Katsuki missed you.” Masaru smiled at his son, but Katsuki had propped his chin in his hand to stare out the window. He turned back around, leaving the boys to their solitude.

There weren’t as many people on the ice when they got there than Izuku had expected. Probably it had to do with how early in the holiday season it was and maybe even that it was the first day the rink was open. Silently, they shoved their feet in the shitty skates that the rink offered while Mitsuki and Masaru wandered off to check out the stalls close by.

When Izuku finally stepped out onto the ice, it felt as if he hadn’t in months. It was a relief. Being on the ice was easy. Being on the ice was uncomplicated. Being on the ice meant being with Katsuki, and Katsuki was one of the few constants in his life.

They skated together for hours. Round and round and round despite the eyes that found them, tracked them. Children who were newly presented had a stronger, more pungent scent. They received more attention, especially newly presented omegas. Over the week, Izuku had dreaded having to go back out in public remembering all of the omegas on the team who had presented before him and the unrelenting, mostly unwanted attentions they’d received. He worried about the eyes that would follow him and the noses that would catch his scent.

But being out with Katsuki made it easy. After a while, the feel of those eyes fell away, and it was just the two of them.

When they finally left the ice, sweaty and red faced and shaky from exertion, Mitsuki handed them food to share and Izuku said, “Thank you, Kacchan.”

“For what?” Katsuki grunted, cheek stuffed full with takoyaki as he looked out over the crowd. His eyes were flat, not as shiny as they usually were. Lacking his excitement for life.

“Asking me to come out. I was… I was scared about being in public again,” Izuku whispered, holding the food tray in both hands, but not taking any for himself. He couldn’t look at Katsuki, his blush moving from exertion to embarrassment.

“Yeah, well, I was just tired of being inside,” Katsuki muttered, but even as he spoke, his scent told another story. It would take some time before he learned to control his scent enough that his emotions didn’t scream out through his scent.

For now though, it was nice to know exactly what he was really feeling, what he would refuse to say. Izuku smiled. “Thank you anyway.”

…..

"Deku, you should just talk to him," Ochako told him sternly.

Izuku pointedly did not look at her, focussing on his breathing as they jogged along somewhere in the middle of the team. Ochako wasn't a slow runner, but she wasn't as fast as Katsuki. Since their argument three days ago though, Izuku hadn't even looked at Katsuki with the insurmountable guilt he was harboring. He shouldn’t have let Katsuki’s pre-rut get the better of him, but his body seemed bound and determined to no longer be his friend. The same went for his omega who had been sulking the entire time.

Neither of them had even showed up to practice the past two days and yesterday's practice had been the most strained it had ever been, much to Aizawa's irritation and Toshinori's disappointment. Both Izuku and Katsuki had separately refused to touch the ice with the other on it, and had been relegated to floor work in separate studios. Toshinori had apologized to Izuki for making things worse which had only served to inflate his guilt.

The anger had eventually evaporated, and now the rational part of Izuku's brain had come back online. That didn't keep every other part of him from moaning that he'd royally fucked everything up. There was no way Katsuki would ever forgive him for what he’d said.

"Ignoring me isn't going to stop me from talking about this," Ochako warned, still keeping stride beside him even as her breath started to falter and grow heavier, "You two are being absolutely ridiculous."

"You have to admit, this is par the course for them," Todoroki murmured on Izuku's other side.

Izuku sighed. "Not you too, Todoroki."

Todorki somehow managed to shrug while still swinging his arms. "I agree with her. You should just talk."

Again, Izuku sighed, but heavier this time. Heavy enough to interrupt his breathing and force him to adjust his breath again. "You didn't see or hear how he reacted. It'll be a miracle if he ever even looks at me again."

"Well then, you have a fairy godmother because it's going to happen sooner than you think," Uraraka huffed, "Especially if you just. Talk. To. Him."

Finally, Izuku snapped his eyes to her, frustrated and feeling like garbage and she was just making it worse. "You don't get it, Chako! You don't know our history! It's not that simple!"

"Because you don't talk to us about it!" she shouted back, glaring at him fiercely. Far ahead of them, Iida turned a glance over his shoulder and began to slow.

"Because it hurts to talk about!"

Uraraka grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop and pulling him away towards the side of the trail. Ahead of them, Todoroki kept running and grabbed Iida’s bicep to keep him moving. For several long moments, both of them caught their breath and stared at their feet. Only when the last of their teammates had passed did they speak.

"I'm sorry," Izuku whispered, eyes downcast and tear filled, "I didn't mean to yell at you."

"Well, you did," Uraraka said, voice still sharp around the edges, but normal volume now, "We're friends, Deku, but no one gets a pass for yelling at me. Not even you."

The tears spilled over, dripping off the tip of his nose. He shielded his face from view with a hand and scrubbed at his tears with the other. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Please don't hate me. I can't have another friend hating me," he gasped.

Uraraka's sigh ruffled his hair. "I don't hate you and neither does Bakugou, but you were yelling at me when I'm trying to help you. Not only that, but you're holding stuff against me that I don't know about because you've never talked to us about it. I'm going to be blunt here, both you and Bakugou clearly have a lot of unresolved trauma from when you were younger that's still fucking up a lot of stuff for the two of you. You would be so much better without all this extra baggage. You two are terrible at communicating, and whether you talk to me or not, you need to talk it out with him. That time on the podcast doesn't count as talking it out. That was just Bakugou being vulnerable with you for once, but there's way more than just that going on. And you know it."

Izuku was crying harder, using the tail of his scarf to mop up his tears. "I know, it's just so hard. I caused so many problems for Kacchan when we were younger. I was just so thankful to be able to skate with him again, but now… now… Now he won't even look at me because I threw everything back in his face. I'm a terrible person, and Kacchan deserves a better omega. An omega who can cook and clean and doesn't have to rely on suppressants to get him through life. Who didn't ruin two years of his life when we were kids."

Uraraka gripped his shoulder tightly, waiting until he raised his eyes to her to begin. "Talk to him. I truly believe the two of you think more alike than you realize. I'm sure he wants to talk to you too."

"What if he tells me to go away."

"He won’t."

"But what if-"

"He won't, Deku, trust me."

With a shaky nod, Izuku accepted the hug Uraraka offered him before they started back towards the rink. They walked the trail instead of running, allowing Izuku to get his tears under control. When they exited the trail, the rest of the team had already disappeared into the rink to change for their day.

Only Katsuki and Kirishima remained standing near the rink entrance. Kirishima was whispering to Katsuki, but stopped when Katsuki's eyes snapped to Izuku.

They stared at each other, Katsuki's eyes trailing over him before scrutinizing his face. After several long moments, Katsuki turned and disappeared into the rink.

Kirishima waited for them to draw closer before speaking. "I think I managed to convince him, but I'm not sure what he's planning," he said, speaking directly to Uraraka instead of Izuku.

Sighing, she nodded. "Good. The same goes for me." Looking to Izuku, she smiled and said, "Talk to him. I'm going to get changed and head to work."

…..

"Bro, Katsuki, just talk to him. Watching you mope is making me sad. Like, come on now. You're better than this." Kirishima jogged beside Katsuki, the only one managing to keep up with him out of his group of friends. Mina and Kaminari loped along behind them, their panting desperate breath loud on the quiet trail. Only Sero was further ahead of them, his long legs carrying him easily. The only reason he was ahead was because Katsuki wasn't putting any effort into the run. He was just too tired.

"No." His reply was flat, almost monotonous. After the fight with Izuku, all of his pre-rut anger had ebbed into something aching. All day, every day, his chest hurt with the sheer level of pining he was allowing himself to engage in. He’d even allowed his alpha to start constructing the nest for the omega that he’d been fighting against. Not that any omega needed an alpha to create a shitty version of something they had the instinct to build well, but it put Katsuki at ease knowing it was there if Izuku so-ever needed it. So, he wallowed and pined and didn’t cave to the desire to go knock on the omega’s apartment door just down the hallway from him.

"Man-"

"No. You didn't hear what he said to me. He doesn't want anything to do with me. I'm not going to force him to talk to me."

Kirishima sighed, turning his eyes towards the sky. "You don't know if he does or doesn't if you don't talk to him. He was angry. People say stuff they don't mean all the time when they're angry."

Katsuki glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "Everything he said was true."

"That doesn't mean he meant it."

"It does for Deku."

"You're being ridiculous," Kirishima said sternly, eyebrows furrowing, "You don't know if he regrets what he said or not. Sometimes I think you don't know Midoriya at all." He turned his eyes forward again, and Katsuki got the distinct feeling that his best friend was disappointed in him.

"I've known him way longer than any of you extras!"

"Which makes you biased. From the little you told me, a lot happened when you were preteens, and I wouldn't be surprised to learn that your perspectives on each other are seriously skewed," Kirishima told him honestly, and Katsuki knew his best friend was frustrated with him because he hadn't looked at him. Not only that, but his ever present smile was missing. “It’s like you two hold each other on some insurmountable pedastals, but don’t realize that you’re just people.”

Katsuki didn't reply, seething under the truth of his words. But the thought of rejection made him nauseous. If he talked to Deku and the omega told him to fuck off, he wasn't sure what he'd do. Probably find another team all together.

He didn't want to do that though. He wanted to stay with Izuku even if the omega never looked at him ever again.

"How do I even start a conversation like that?" Katsuki muttered.

"Apologizing would be a good start." At the look on Katsuki's face, Kirishima sighed again. "You need to verbally talk to him, hash out everything between the two of you, but I guess you could start by getting on the ice with him. Maybe take him to do something that he'll really enjoy that he hasn't gotten a chance to do yet."

Several things popped into his head at once, but still he asked, "Like what?"

"I don’t know. You two have been seriously busy. Maybe take him to Downtown and go Christmas shopping and to see the lights. The Christmas tree is up, and they've opened the outdoor rink. He always gets excited during the holiday season."

Several distinct memories of making a day out of going to the outdoor rink on the first day of opening flitted through Katsuki’s mind. He scowled. "I hate all that gross Christmas shit. People are always way too loud and happy."

Kirishima laughed. "I know that, but this isn't about you. It's about him."

‘Fair point.’ Letting out a noncommittal grunt, Katsuki lengthened his stride and Kirishima whined as he started to fall behind. When they finally made it to the end of the trail, Katsuki waited for Kirishima, but also kept an eye out for Izuku to make sure the omega made it back.

Slowly, their teammates exited the path and started towards the rink. Izuku didn’t appear.

Kirishima shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing between Katsuki and the path. After ten more minutes, he started talking, chattering without stopping.

Crossing his arms, Katsuki clenched his fists against his sides to keep his growing panic known. Kirishima’s neverending chatter was doing nothing to help him. Mostly, it just pissed him off.

Long minutes pass, and it was only when Katsuki was seconds away from plunging back into the forest and Kirishima was saying, “I’m sure he’s alright, man, this trail is really safe. All the trails are. And it’s Midoriya. I think we would have heard something by now if he was in trouble,” that there was movement at the trail mouth.

Izuku and Uraraka stopped as they spotted Katsuki and Kirishima.

He dragged his eyes over Izuku, looking for any signs that he’d been hurt and allowing his panic to subside, before looking over the omega’s face. His nose, lips and eyes were red, and there were clear signs that he’d been crying.

‘Omega sad. Comfort omega. Omega should not have to cry,’ his alpha said, and while Katsuki agreed, he couldn’t just go up to Izuku and hold him.

Instead, he met Izuku’s eyes pointedly again before turning and heading into the rink. From there, he turned towards the ice instead of the locker rooms where the rest of the team was. It had been three days since he last set foot on the ice, and he hadn’t realized just how much a deviation from his usual schedule would affect him. Sleep had been scarce, and frustration had been high. Not frustration at Izuku, but at himself. Because after everything, he was still somehow managing to fuck things up. Not to say he hadn’t been upset with Izuku, but it hadn’t lasted. Everything he’d said had been the truth.

Katsuki pulled on his skates with purposeful, quick jerks. By the time the three stragglers made it in, he was already taking off his guards to step onto the ice. He paused, glancing over his shoulder to catch Izuku’s gaze before stepping out. He found his way to center ice before coming to a stop and turning to wait for Izuku to join him. If he was going to join him.

He hoped the invitation was obvious. He wasn’t good with words. Never had been and had the sneaking suspicion never would be.

Uraraka and Kirishima were smirking, and together, pushed Izuku towards the rink. He glanced back at them, but they just waved him forward again. Only when he stepped away did they scurry away themselves, heads bent close together.

Katsuki waited patiently as Izuku slowly pulled out his skates. Every few seconds as he pulled them on, he glanced up as if to make sure Katsuki hadn’t gone anywhere.

Finally, standing at the entrance to the rink, he simply stared at Katsuki with trepidation written all across his face.

Instead of opening his mouth, worried something nasty and venomous was just going to come tumbling out as it so often did, he held out his hand.

Izuku’s face opened with relief, and he scrubbed at his eyes before hurrying out to meet Katsuki. They didn’t stay on the ice long, silently gliding around the rink a few times without any purpose, just contenting each other with the others presence.

As if following an unspoken signal, they stepped off the ice together, gathered up their belongings and went outside.

Izuku waited beside Katsuki, bouncing from foot to foot and breathing into his cupped hands as he locked the doors to the rink. When Katsuki turned, Izuku handed over Katsuki’s bag, a small cautious smile evident over the top edge of his scarf. The scarf Katsuki had given him.

For the first time in days, Katsuki spoke to Izuku. “Put on your fucking gloves, dumbass, that’s what you’ve got ‘em for. Fuck.” He stepped in close to Izuku, rummaging around his coat pockets despite the omega’s sudden stiffness and stammering and red cheeks. Pulling out the gloves, he pulled them onto Izuku’s hands with quick efficiency. He clasped Izuku’s hands between his own. “Where’s your hat? I swear, you’d be dead without me.” He reached around Izuku, and this time easily found his beanie in the outside pocket of his bag.

All the gifts he’d given Izuku on his person all at the same time. Katsuki smirked, self-satisfied, after he jerked the hat down over Izuku’s ears, flipping the bunny ears out of the omega’s face and over the top of his head. “Better. Let’s go.” He turned, striding away before Izuku could answer.

“What? Where are we going? Our building is the other way.” Izuku scrambled to catch up, falling into step beside Katsuki and stepping close as the sidewalk began to fill with bodies. The closer they got to Downtown, the more crowded it became. The signs of life grew exponentially, and it wasn’t long before the streets were filled with lights and holiday music and the sound of people living and loving together.

Katsuki glanced over at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to pull him close so they took up less space on the sidewalk. Izuku didn’t react to the sudden proximity like Katsuki had expected him to, eyes darting from one store front to the next. His eyes were wide, colored lights reflecting brightly off his corneas.

Glancing away as heat built along his collar, he said, “We’re not going home just yet.”

“What are we doing then?” Izuku asked, and he caught the glance the omega sent him.

He also caught the bright red of Izuku’s cheeks. ‘It’s just the cold. It’s just the cold. It’s just the cold,’ he chanted to himself.

‘Omega still responds to us. Hope!’ his alpha retorted.

On a whim, Katsuki steered them into a store front so frilly and lit up that his eyeballs actually throbbed in his head. The store was familiar, one of his few haunting grounds that made coffee exactly to his standards. Warmth and the heavy scent of coffee greeted them, and he unwound himself from Izuku to usher him through the double doors. “We’re getting hot chocolate to start off.”

As soon as Izuku had a chance to scan the coffee shop, his arm shot into the air. Jovially, he called, “Hagakure! Ojirou! I didn’t know you worked here!”

Neither did Katsuki, and he silently cursed.

The woman with her pale skin, pale blue eyes and the palest blonde hair on the planet waved back from behind the counter. “Midoriya! And Bakugou! What are you doing here?” She rounded the counter with a quick whisper to Ojirou who was sporting a baby blue apron. “Wow! It’s so weird seeing your guys off the ice.”

Izuku laughed. “It is, isn’t it? It’s nice though.”

“Yeah,” she cooed before stacking her gloved hands on her hips and smiling widely. “What can I do for you guys? Looking for a late night pick-me-up?”

“Kacchan said something about hot chocolate?” Izuku turned to Katsuki who would have been happier being ignored.

He hadn’t been expecting -realistically- to see any of their teammates that night. Had banked on it. He should have planned for the eventuality. It was the holiday season. Everyone was doing their Christmas shopping and enjoying the lights and shit.

He should have planned for it. Instead, Hagakure had a knowing smile playing across her mouth. Heat bloomed along his collar to crawl up his neck. Gruffly, he said, “Yeah. The Aztec spice for me and whichever the nerd wants.”

“You have multiples?” Izuku whispered reverentially as he whipped back around to look at Hagakure.

“Sure do! There’s a whole list for the holidays over there by Ojirou if you want to take a look.”

Izuku all but bounced over to the counter, greeting their other teammate with a bright chipper smile.

Hagakure and Katsuki didn’t move. “So…” she stared.

“Stop.”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “What? I haven’t said anything!”

Katsuki could feel his pulse in his cheeks, and he glared at her. “I know what you’re about to say. So, stop.”

“I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you. Just don’t fuck it up again, you know? And maybe get him something nicer than clothes and blankets? Just a suggestion.”

Katsuki didn’t even want to know how she knew about all of that, especially the blanket. He wanted to slam his head into a wall. Who was this beta trying to give him advice? They barely ever spoke, and he’d only ever thought of her as a teammate, even all these years later. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ground out. But he allowed his eyes to remain glued on Izuku and for the warmth in his cheeks to fill his chest.

Hagakure pursed her lips. “You know, the one thing about basically being invisible is that people forget to check when they’re doing sketchy shit.” When he didn’t react, she simply said, “You’re courting him. I’ve seen you put a couple of those gifts in his bags. And don’t get me started on the lunches and snacks that I’ve seen you share. Just because he’s a dummy, doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

Except that Izuku wasn’t actually a dummy, not in this sense. He’d known Katsuki’s intentions for a bit, eventually figured them out at least. It was just that he kept fucking shit up before actually getting the balls to properly ask Izuku to formally court him. Well, publicly at least. Katsuki hated that tradition dictated they go public. While he didn’t mind the idea of people knowing, the way he actually felt for the nerd was his and Izuku’s alone. If Izuku didn’t care about being public, he felt like that should have been good enough. Still, he knew how both of their parents would feel if they didn’t.

Working his jaw, Katsuki tried to find the words to reply that weren’t ‘fuck off’. If he really wanted to court Izuku, he couldn’t go alienating the nerd’s friends even if he wanted the omega all to himself. In the end, he muttered, “He wouldn’t like expensive shit. He’s not that kind of omega. The only non-functional things he owns are his skating memorabilia.” Before he was forced to endure whatever else she had to say in response, Izuku hopped back over with two takeaway cups and a smile cutting from ear to ear.

“Here you go, Kacchan!”

Katsuki took the cup with a grunt before grabbing Izuku’s hand and tugging him towards the door. “Let’s fucking go before more meddling happens.”

“Okay, bye, Hagakure, Ojirou!” Izuku called back, unperturbed by the frozen air just outside the door.

“Bye, sweetie! Have a good time! Make good choices!” Hagakure waved back enthusiastically before rounding the counter again.

Izuku waved for a few moments longer before bringing the cup in his hand to his lip. He hadn’t pulled his other from Katsuki’s, and instead used it to drag Katsuki into his side as they started to walk again. “So, what are we doing?”

“You haven’t gotten a chance to come down here this season, right?” Katsuki asked, keeping his eyes forward as he steered Izuku around a group of merry carolers. He felt more than saw Izuku shake his head, his curls sending up a cloud of sweet smelling mint and rain. “So, whatever you want.”

Izuku jerked them to a stop just as Katsuki was lifting his cup to his mouth. Hot liquid sprayed across his mouth, and he suppressed a curse. He thought the omega was about to really give it to him. Instead, when he looked at Izuku, he was met with wide sparkling green eyes and astonishment. Maybe the tongue lashing would have hurt less, but he knew he deserved every little twinge that spiked through his chest.

“What’s that look for?” he grumbled, glancing away from Izuku.

“Are you being serious?”

Katsuki snapped his eyes back around, indignation rising. “Why would I have said it if I weren’t being serious?”

Still, the astonishment stayed. “It’s just… it’s not like you, and after what happened at the beginning of the week…” Izuku dropped his eyes and then his hand, curling into himself. “It’s unexpected. I know you let me back on the ice, but I haven’t apologized. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

Considering what course of action to take, Katsuki eventually chose to reach around Izuku and pull his ponytail forward. He kept his fingers tangled in the supernaturally soft curls as Izuku shyly lifted his eyes to look at him.

“I haven’t apologized either. You’re not the only one at fault here. We’re both idiots.” Izuku’s eyes grew impossibly wide, but he didn’t speak. “So, what do you want to do?”

A smile grew quickly on Izuku’s face, and he pushed in close, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s waist tightly. His cup was warm against Katsuki’s spine even through all of the layers he was wearing. “You’re going to regret asking me that,” he said, voice muffled in Katsuki’s jacket.

He sighed heavily. “I already knew that.”

Izuku pulled away, but not completely. Instead, he resumed their earlier position pressed shoulder to shoulder. “We have so much to do tonight,” he chirruped.

Katsuki grimaced, but went along without complaint.

For several hours, they peaked into packed stores strung from end to end with brightly colored lights and lengths of tinsel. Ate samples that said stores were handing out. Izuku did some actual Christmas shopping, picking up gifts for his mother, Katsuki’s parents, Uraraka and the rest of his friends. The entire time, he kept up a constant stream of chatter and singing.

And he never pulled his hand from Katsuki’s.

“The outdoor rink is open!” Izuku cried as they found themselves right in the middle of Downtown, the rink acting as the epicenter of the festivities.

The Christmas tree towered on the opposite end of the square as music played over the mass of bodies. There were so many lights strung around that there was no need for the usual street lamps or floodlights, and all stood dark beneath the Christmas lights. There weren’t actually that many people on the ice at the moment as Katsuki thought there would be, just a couple of kids and couples sticking close to the walls. Only a few brave souls had ventured out towards center ice, feet braced awkwardly and hands held out for balance.

“Let’s skate!” Izuku said emphatically, turning to completely face Katsuki, “Please, Kacchan! It’ll be closed for the season before I get to!”

“We skate every day, dumbass, what makes this rink different from ours?” Katsuki grumbled, beginning to feel the weight of his bag and the dragging of the day. It was well passed his usual bedtime, and he felt like an old man. An old man who needed a nap. “If you want to skate, we can just go back. At least there’s no people at our rink.”

“But that’s why I want to skate here.” Izuku was pulling him gently towards the booth renting out lockers and skates as if he moved slow enough that Katsuki wouldn’t notice what he was doing or something. “I love being on ice with so many people, all the excitement and energy they give off. I love being around people enjoying something I love just for the pleasure of enjoying it.”

Izuku’s words sounded extremely close to the reason Katsuki coached his students, and that more than anything unstuck his feet. He followed along behind Izuku, and waited by the wooden benches set up for the skaters to change into the skates while he got them skates and a locker to shove their things in. When he came back, he grinned and held up two pairs of ratty, ugly, abused skates.

“Why don’t we just use our own skate?” Katsuki asked, lip curled up in disgust as he stared at the sorry excuse for skates the omega was offering him. He hadn’t worn a pair of those skates since he was ten-years-old, but he was 99.9% sure they had never once been replaced in those twelve years. He didn’t even want to think of whose disease ridden feet may have been in them prior. “I’m not putting those on.”

Izuku pushed them towards him more insistently. “Come on, Kacchan, it’s part of the experience. Also-” His eyes darted towards the ice, completely ruined by hundreds of other people and the poor condition of the blades they were skating on. “I don’t really want to have to sharpen my blades after being on this ice. My current blades are probably still the most expensive things I’ve ever owned.”

Following his gaze and grimacing, Katsuki muttered, “Fine,” before taking the skates and sitting down heavily. He laced them up just like he would his own, and his grimace deepened when he stood and realized just how wrong wearing someone else’s skates felt. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, for sure, but Izuku looked pleased as punch when he stood up beside Katsuki.

He toddered over to the lockers with their belongings and shoes, unceremoniously shoving everything into the locker’s depths before forcing it closed. When he turned, he was still grinning both a little smuggly and proudly. “Come on, Kacchan! Let’s skate!”

It took them several long minutes of trying to find a space between people to dart out to center ice, but once they were there, Izuku held out a hand. He smiled cheekily. “May I have this dance?”

“Gross,” Katsuki spat, but he was fighting back a smile as he grabbed the omega’s hand and dragged him in against his body.

Instead of following the routine for their programme, they just let their bodies move with the music. Still, they were in perfect sync. Laughter stayed on Izuku’s lips and a smile eventually broke out on Katsuki’s as they moved. It had been twelve years since they’d allowed themselves to be silly with each other, to just enjoy skating for the sake of skating, to forget about skill and technique and just skate.

They were planets orbiting a star where the other was the sun and they were the hapless, helpless planet caught in the sun’s gravity. Time became a distant construct as they spun and jumped and crashed together and flew apart.

At some point while holding Izuku’s hand above his head to spin him around and around and around, Katsuki realized that people were watching them more than skating. There were phones pointed in their direction and the holiday music had gotten louder, but nothing could really secure his attention like the sound of Izuku’s raucous laugh and teeth as he smiled helplessly.

Tackling Izuku around the waist and lifting him off his feet, he spun them around until the world was a blur of colors and Izuku’s face was the only thing in focus.

“Kacchan!” Izuku screeched, clutching onto his shoulder. His grip was for balance rather than out of fear, and after a moment, he flung his arms out to the sides and allowed Katsuki to hold him steady. Through his laughter, he called, “I’m getting dizzy!”

‘Me too. Dizzy on you,’ Katsuki thought nonsensically as he slowed to a stop. He let Izuku slide back to the ground, and together, they stumbled towards the wall while the assembled crowd clapped and crowed.

Katsuki leaned back against the wall, working to catch his breath even as it continued to escape in little puffs of laughter. Beside him, Izuku was still giggling, clutching onto the wall as if for dear life.

“Kacchan?”

Lifting his head from where it hung between his shoulders, Katsuki turned to look at Izuku. There were fingers there on the back of his neck, soft material warm against his skin, and before he could wonder what they were doing there, Izuku pressed his lips to Katsuki’s.

Katsuki went stalk still, brain struggling to connect the dots of what was happening to how he’d imagined kissing Izuku.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku was whispering as he pulled away, cheeks rose red and smile small, “I just couldn’t hold back anymore. I-”

Bracketing Izuku’s face between his palms, Katsuki pulled him back in, unable to handle even the short distance he’d put between them. He kissed him again, hungry and wanting and desperate, sliding his hands back into those perfect curls and holding on tight.

Izuku hummed against his lips, opening to him easily.

They melted into each other, and only virtue of being in public kept them from following their desires further.

When they parted, putting only enough space between each other to allow for panting breaths, Izuku whispered, “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

Katsuki huffed out a breathless laugh. “Because I’m an idiot.”

[scribblis]

"Shit! I'm going to be late!!" I yelled to no one in particular, getting my things together and cursing myself for the current predicament. You'd think I'd get it together by college, but i was as messy and jumbled as always.

The current predicament: I was late for a my first day of class, a class that was very important, since it was with Hitoshi Shinsou, aka the guy I'd been mad crushing on since two semesters ago. We were both humanities majors; him in criminology and forensics, me in sociology and abnormal psychology. We went to a small university in rural Oregon, with a small, dedicated staff and one main building for each individual colleges. And we were in the same STAT 305: Stats for Humanity major and PSYCH 706A: Critical Thinking in Psychology class this semester.

I grabbed everything I thought I needed, and rushed out of my room, grabbing an individual-wrapped brownie and a cotton candy energy drink from my fridge and stuffing them in my bag before rushing out the door, getting to the psych building with three minutes to spare.

I sighed, plopping into an empty desk somewhere in the middle-side of the classroom, glad the teacher was still not here. The psych professors at this college were all eccentric in their own rights, and I'd never had this professor before.

I caught my breath, scanning the room. Most everyone here was someone I knew or at least, I recognized their faces. This group of people tended to be serious, and brilliant, and I was confident it would be a good class. I sighed a breath of relief, getting my stuff ready. I pulled out my notebook for this class, turning it to the first lined page. I also pulled out two pens, a highlighter, and placed my brownie and my energy drink near the top of the desk to avoid spillage. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I didn't even notice who came into the room.

"Excuse me," a deep, instantly recognized voice asked, and I jumped before looking up, seeing none other than Hitoshi Shinsou standing next to the empty desk next to me. "Is that seat taken?"

"Uhhh....not that I know of?" I replied, slightly dumbfounded. Could I handle this?

"K. Thanks," he replied nonchalantly, sliding into the desk to my right. He set his cool grey messenger bag on the other side of the desk, pulling out a black notebook and tucking a pen behind his ear, setting up. I kept my body language casual, facing forward, but I couldn't stop myself from glancing over every so often, careful to not get caught.

I'd met the basically-demigod Hitoshi Shinsou in Intro to Psych, two semesters ago. It may be silly of me, but I'm pretty sure I started crushing on him the moment I saw him. He was tall, slender but solid, with purple hair that was constantly pushed back. At first, I thought he styled it that way, but having been in class with him and staring occasionally noticing him, it really was his fault his hair did that. He often sighed and ran a hand through his hair whenever he was really thinking about something. It was actually kinda cute, he did it so often that during tests sometimes there'd be a slight imprint of the base of his palm against his hairline. Was this weird to notice?

I tried to be careful, but on my third or fourth glance over at him, we accidentally made eye contact. His eyebrow twitched slightly in the brief second we made eye contact, and it caught me off guard to the point that my hand jerked, knocking my energy drink off the desk. It fell to my right, and hit the ground.

I hesitated reaching for it, and before I could grab it, Hitoshi had swiped it up and put it back on my desk, eyeing it.

"Never seen that flavor before," he stated casually.

"Oh! Yeah, haha, cotton candy is one of my favorite flavor of anything," I said just a bit to fast. Oh god, here was the perfect opportunity to make a good impression on him and here I was, blowing it. Though if he noticed my nervousness, he didn't indicate it.

"Huh. Next thing you know, they'll make a birthday cake flavored one," he said with a slight scoff.

"They do. It's okay, but kinda weird. It tastes like liquid cake and makes my mouth all confused."

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow at me, his violet eyes light and playful. "Sounds like you've got a sweet tooth."

Was this happening? Was I actually having a normal conversation with Hitoshi? I laughed, nervous, and reached for the can.

"Oh, I mean, I guess so, I'm a foodie in gener-"

"Stop," he interrupted.

"Huh?" God, had I already talked too much? Was I boring him? Before my thoughts could spiral me any more, though, he continued.

"That just fell on the floor. Don't open it right now."

I looked down, to where my hand was on top of the can tab, about to open it. I guess I was so nervous I didn't realize what my hands were doing.

"O-oh, right. Thanks," I said, warmth creeping up my neck and cheeks.

Luckily, I was saved from more awkward conversation by the professor coming in. Dr. Aizawa was one of the senior psychology professors at the school; he mainly oversaw higher levels of psych classes, and this one, Critical Thinking in Psych. I sighed, resolving to focus on the professor for the rest of class.

Later in the week, it's time for STAT 305, and I am prepared. It's my only class of the day, so I take time in the morning, eat breakfast, and shower, leaving early and slipping into a seat near the window. I stare out of it, my eyes flitting around, idly people-watching, before turning back to the classroom. It had filled up in the time I was staring out the window, and I briefly notice the seat next to me was the only seat not taken. Wait, is....

I turn my head and scan the room, but I really might as well not have bothered, as Hitoshi strode into the room just before the professor did. He had big purple headphones, and as he looked around the room, my pulse quickened. No way was I going to survive this semester if I'm both classes he sits next to me.

He spots the seat next to me and heads over. I turn my gaze down, chewing on my lip a bit as I fiddle with my pen. Should I make a joke? Should I say hi? Should I not acknowledge him at all?

I hear him set down his stuff and slide into his seat. I can't help myself and I glance at him in my peripheral. He takes off his headphones smoothly, resting them around his neck before running a hand through his hair. Luckily, Professor Nezu starts speaking, and I will myself to concentrate on what he's saying.

~~

".....and don't forget, get your books by Tuesday. I'll post the reading and the syllabus online, make sure to take a look through both before next class. Dismissed."

I started to get my stuff together, grabbing my backpack from off the floor when Hitoshi interrupted my thoughts.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" I replied evenly, looking up to glance at him while continuing my motions. An idle hope flitted by, wouldn't it be awesome if he asked to trade numbers?

"We should trade contact info."

Wait, what? Did that just happen? I looked up to him, and I guess my face gave away my surprised, because he spoke quickly.

"Not to....be weird or whatever. Just that we have a couple classes together this semester. We could study together."

Hitoshi Shinsou wants to study. With me. Luckily I regain my composure nearly instantly, thanks to years of masking.

"Oh! Sure! Great idea, it'll be more efficient," I responded. We traded phones, typing our contact information in before swapping back. Hitoshi Shinsou's phone number is in my contact list.

"Cool. See you around, Alis," he said, putting his messenger on one shoulder. Putting his headphones back on, he strode towards the door.

"Y-yeah, see you..." I quickly gathered my stuff, dumbfounded, before heading back to my dorm.

~~

The first weekend of the semester came, and with that, so did my weekly smoke sessions with the crew. We'd all met during orientation and immediately hit it off, and today was no different.

"Guess who has pizza rolls~" Hawks crowed, bringing a full tray of steamy, half-open pizza rolls on a large platter. They set it down on the table where the rest of us sat, plopping down on one of the couches. The smoke spot for the most part was the basement of Adgy's parents' house, which coincidentally was their bedroom, and our club's secret sanctuary.

"So let me get this straight," Vibby started as I took a long hit off one of the bongs being passed around. "Hitoshi Shinsou asked for your number. And wants to study together. This is your chance!!"

I laughed, a bit too hard and I descended into a coughing fit, passing on the bong and lighter to Simi, who passed it to Cloudy.

"Step one: message him," Hawks grinned, blowing onto a pizza roll before popping it into their mouth. "Step two: suck his dick. Step three: invite us to the wedding."

"God I wish," I said lightly, a nervous tinge to my laugh.

"Suck his dick! Suck his dick!" Adgy teased, and before long, the rest of the circle had joined in as I flushed, grabbing my pipe from the table and hitting the bowl.

"I wonder if the curtains match the drapes," Cloudy said idly, after the chanting had died down.

"No way," Adgy replied. "Have you seen the way he dresses? Dude totally manscapes."

"Okay, guys, I don't need to be thinking about Hiroshi's crotch right now, I can already barely face him," I joked.

"Let's take bets to see how this plays out," Hawks grinned. "Hmmm......dinner on me says he's gonna use a study session to flirt. Ooooo, maybe he'll lean in reeeeeal close when you're checking an answer together~"

"God," I sighed, leaning back. "I wish. Could you imagine?"

"Ten bucks says he just kisses shine out of the blue," Adgy said. "I bet he's totally the type to kiss you to get you to shut up."

"My money's on Alis accidentally confessing," Vibby said, nudging me slightly. "You do have a tendency to panic when you're flustered."

"Oooh, good point," Hawks replied, grinning. "He seems the type to play with his food."

"Y'all!!" I squeaked, hiding my face in my hands. God, I was going to die if this keeps up.

"Okay, fine, we'll ease up," Simi smiled, before breezily changing the topic. I breathed a sigh of relief, but the images of what my friends said kept me awake all night, my mind racing with the thought of those things happening to me.