#give me like two weeks to binge everything and this’ll be so good for me and the maybe 2 people that will understand it

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Thirteen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Fluff and smut in this one. Would love to know how you are still liking the story!)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Masterpost

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Harry took turns staying over at each other’s places more often. You both agreed it was easier for him to stay over on school nights because you needed more things to get ready for work in the morning. So you would stay at his place more on the weekends. You were tired most mornings with him there, but it was a good tired. Your mood at work was overwhelmingly positive, and many people noticed. You couldn’t help it, essentially being given an orgasm every other night of the week did wonders for you. Between the way he would rub you, or go down on you, you were perfectly content with where things were with Harry. He was happy to be given head or a hand job as well.

Harry desperately wanted to be able to touch more of you, to feel more of you, but he knew he would get there with you eventually, and there was really no rush. The awful run in with Jake was slowly slipping from your memory. You truly were feeling like your old self.

Wednesday morning, Niall popped into your office. You were standing at your desk, editing away at a clip a client had sent in. You see Niall and take your headphones out.

“Hey.” He says with a smile.

“Sup?” You’re clearly busy, but don’t want to be rude.

“Are you doin’ anything for Halloween?” Halloween was next weekend, and you hadn’t thought twice about it. You used to love Halloween when you were in college, but not it was less fun when you didn’t have a full weekend of dressing up and binge drinking.

“I don’t think so, why?”

“I’m gonna have a party at my place, just decided last night.”

“Oh fun! Your place really is perfect for a party.”

“I’d like to do some type of costume contest.”

“Hmm, like a couple’s costume contest?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not necessarily, I just think having a contest of some kind will get more people to want to dress up.”

“Definitely, this is gonna be so much fun! I’ll have to think of some costume ideas.”

“You and Harry should be Tarzan and Jane.” He starts laughing.

“He would never go for that, but something tells me he’ll be open to some interesting ideas.”

That night when you get home from work, you walk into the delicious smell of a home cooked dinner. Harry has his apron on, and is frying up some tofu and veggies. You walk over to him, and wrap your arms around him.

“Dinner’s almost ready love.”

“Wednesday’s are my favorite. Rest day from the gym, you get off work early, and you cook for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and hang up your jacket. “What are we having?” You ask, sitting at the table.

“Garlic and ginger tofu stirfry.” He says placing a plate in front of you.

“Oh yum! Thank you sweetie.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles at you. You both dig in and you can’t help the moan that comes from your mouth. “Good, huh?” He chuckles.

“Mm, very good. God, you are such a good cook.”

“So are you.”

“But you’re better. So...”

“So...”

“Niall told me he’s having a Halloween party next weekend.”

“Yeah, he texted me last night. What should we go as?”

“Yay, so you’re into it?”

“Of course, I love Halloween parties. It’s fun to take pictures of people dressed in what they wish they could wear all the time.”

“Good point. Any ideas for costumes? I want to be creative, but it’s kind of last minute so I don’t know how much time we’ll have to make something.”

“Hmmm, what about like eighties punk rockers. We could wear leather pants and black eyeliner.”

“Are you going to wear a wig?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because eighties rockers had long hair.”

“Not all of ‘em. I won’t wear a wig, but I’d wear everything else.”

“You just want to see my butt in a tight pair of pants.”

“Not true! Although, you would look incredibly sexy.” You swat a hand at him while you shovel more food into your mouth.

“Oh! What if you were like Charlie Brown and I was Peppermint Patty?”

“Isn’t she a lesbian? Wouldn’t really work for a couple’s costume.” He laughs.

“Are we really going to discuss whether or not a comic strip character is a lesbian? And who cares if she is, they’re still good friends, it would be cute.”

“You could be snoopy?”

“How could I possibly dress up as snoopy?” Harry starts to blush.

“Well, you could wear like a white dress, and paint your nose black. You could buy the dog ears, and um, a collar.” He looks down at his food.

“You want me to wear a dog collar?”

“It would be part of the costume.”

“I do have a black choker I could wear…does he wear a black collar or a red collar?”

“I can’t remember, we can look it up.”

“I think I have one in both colors. You know what, this could work, and I think I have a white jumpsuit I could wear. I could wear my white heels, the choker, and you’re right just paint a nose on and buy the ears. You must have black shorts, we could buy a yellow polo and paint a black zig zag on it.”

“This’ll be fun.” Harry loves when you say the word we. It was a word he used to be scared of, but it sounds so good coming from your lips.

That weekend you two go to WalMart to pick out the extra components of your costumes. You buy some black fabric paint, and slip a piece of cardboard inside the shirt. Harry lays down some newspaper for you on his kitchen floor, and watches you intently while you paint the zig zag on the front and back of the yellow shirt.

“Okay, now don’t touch this, and just let it dry, I don’t want it getting smudged.” You hand it to him, and he places it on his desk to lean against the wall.

“Do you like to paint?”

“I do, actually. My Nannie used to paint when she was younger, I actually have some of her art hanging in my apartment.”

“Maybe we could go to one of those like, wine and paint nights at a bar sometime.”

“You’d be into something like that?”

“Sure, Niall and I have actually done it together a couple of times, it’s pretty relaxing.” You burst out laughing.

“You two have the weirdest friendship.” You say wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oi, what’s the difference between two men having a boys night and two girls having a girls night?”

“I suppose not much, it’s just funny to picture you both getting wine drunk and painting. But from your original point, I think it would be a lot of fun if we did that sometime.”

//

You had your period this week, so you couldn’t wait for Halloween to roll around because you knew you’d be done by then. You took out your white jumpsuit. It was cute, low cut with spaghetti straps. You bought it because it had pockets and because it was boot cut. The ones that flared out too much made your legs look weird. You slipped it on, and twirled in your mirror. It really made your butt look great. You left your hair down and straight, and stuck your dog ears on. Then you took out your black choker and your red choker, still not being able to decide which one would make more sense. You didn’t want to look like Brian Griffin, so you went with the black choker. You paint a black nose onto yourself. You slipped your white pumps on, and waited for Harry.

Harry strolled into your place around eight-thirty. He had a pair of black converse on, paired with black shorts, and the yellow shirt you had made for him. His jaw nearly hits the floor when he sees you.

“I didn’t know snoopy could be so sexy.” He says walking over to you. “Is, um, aunt flow still in town?”

“No, she left yesterday.” You giggle. “I didn’t know you owned sneakers like that.”

“I had to really dig them out of my closet. I tried to make the outfit work with my boots, but it just wasn’t happening.” You notice his nails were now black and yellow.

“Can I just say I love that you color coordinated your nails?” You hold his hand looking over the colors.

“Hey, when I commit to something, I commit.” You give him a funny look. “Right, shall we head over?”

“Yup, let me just grab my bag. We’ll go back to your place after, yeah?”

“Works for me.” He smiles, and takes your bag down to the car, checking out your ass in your jumpsuit. “That really is a sexy outfit, (y/n).” You feel your cheeks heat up when he places a hand on your thigh as he drives to Niall’s.

“Thank you, Harry.” You give his hand a little squeeze.

When you get up to Niall’s, the place was already packed. You spot him right away. He had a white t-shirt on that said ‘chill’ on it and you immediately rolled your eyes. You spot Sarah who is wearing a tight red dress that she pinned the word Netflix to. Niall comes over to the greet you, and to take the bottle of wine you brought.

“Glad you guys could make it.” He looks you both up and down. “Charlie Brown and Snoopy? Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you are unoriginal, mate.” Harry grabs your hand and brings you over to the drink cart to make the two of you drinks. You wave to Sarah who gives you a thumbs up.

You just realized you had never been to a big party with Harry before. Well, you both had been at Niall’s holiday party last year, but you weren’t there together. Nor did the two of your even speak. You remember him slightly talking to a group of girls who were probably all waiting the clock out to see who he would take home with him.

Rachel was there with a girl, who you recognized as the girl she took home from the bar over a month ago. You make eye contact with her, and you both wink at each other. You were so happy your friend groups were merging.

“Oi! It’s the lad himself!” You hear a man with a thicker British accent yell to Harry. Harry whips his head around, and you swear you had never seen him smile quite so big. The man was wearing all yellow and had a picture of Heinz Mustard on his belly. Ketchup probably not too far away.

“Lou!” Harry yells back, and the two practically run into each other’s arms. “What the fuck are ya doin’ here?”

“I drove in for the party, that alright with ya?” The two hug for another second, before Harry turns back to introduce you.

“Babe, this is my mate Louis. Louis, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).” You hold your hand out to shake, and he takes it kindly.

“Nice to meet ya.”

“Same to you. So, did you go to college with Harry and Niall?”

“Yeah we spent some time at uni together. It’s so funny, ya live in the same country with a guy, only a couple of hours away your whole life, and it takes goin’ ‘cross the pond at some random school to meet.”

“And you also decided to stay in the states?”

“Yeah, well the girl I was with at the time convinced me to stay here with her. We broke up eventually, but by that time I had already gone through the process of dual citizenship.”

“Oh I see.”

“Mate, El is here with me tonight, I’m sure she’d love to see ya, let me go grab her.” You see Harry roll his eyes after Louis leaves.

“I fucking hate his girlfriend, her name is Eleanor.”

“Oh, why do you hate her?” You put a hand on his arm to soothe him.

“She just rubs me the wrong way. She hated how close Lou and I were, that’s why he lives like two hours away, because the three of us would hang out all the time. The three of us lived together for a while, and she yanked him right out.” Louis walks over with Eleanor, and yup, she’s ketchup.

“Hi Harry.” She says with what you assume is a fake smile, because he’s giving her one as well. They give each other a small hug.

“Hey El, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).”

“Hi, love, nice to meet ya.” Why were there so many British people in this area? How did they find each other? “Girlfriend! Well, it’s ‘bout damn time, H.” You look up at him and scrunch your nose. You had never heard anyone refer to him like that. 

“Was just waitin’ for the right girl.” He hooks an arm around your waist, and you feel peaceful.

“Harry, come do shots with me like old times. I know Niall has that good tequila.”

“Deal.” The boys go into the kitchen to find shot glasses, leaving you with Eleanor.

“Did ya ever watch Boy Meets World growin’ up?” You make a face at the odd question, but laugh.

“Um, yeah, I loved that show.”

“Right, well, what you’re lookin’ at”, she points to the boys who are clinking two shot glasses together. You already know you’re going to have to uber back to Harry’s later. “is a the real life Cory and Shawn.”

“Which one of us is Topanga?” You giggle.

“Me, of course. I was always the third wheel with them. I met Louis in grad school, and you would think that two boys wouldn’t act like such children around each other.” You didn’t think Harry was close with someone other that Niall. “Jesus, and when the three of them would get together.” She rolls her eyes.

“They seem to really miss each other. It’s good for guys to have friends.”

“Oh I agree, I don’t mind Niall. Harry just never really warmed up to me, and would make things difficult for Lou and I. I know he blames me for why Lou lives so far away, but I got a really good job offer and he wanted to come with me.”

“I get it. My best friend lives outside the city, and it’s hard enough to get together with her only an hour away.” Yes, you still considered Kate to be your best friend, even if you still weren’t talking to her. “It’s a two way street, both people have to make the effort.”

“We invite Harry to visit all the time, but he always say no. I think he would feel like the third wheel, not that that’s possible. Maybe now that he has you, you could convince him to come out for a weekend here and there. We can’t stay with him here because he doesn’t have space for us. And hotels can be so expensive.”

“Sure, I could definitely put a bug in his ear.” You hadn’t been away with Harry yet, you didn’t really want your first weekend away to be with another couple, but you would see how things go.

“Thanks, Jesus, look at them.” You see them laughing as they take another shot. “That’s their third shot you know? We officially no longer exist at this party.” Before you can say anything, Sarah comes up to you with a shot glass for yourself.

“Here, Harry asked me to do one with you.” You take the cold glass from her and tip your head back.

“I love tequila, I’m gonna get more. Eleanor come on, come do a shot.” She sighs, but follows you into the kitchen.

You grab a lime and some salt. You cut up the lime into small sections.

“What are you doin’?” Harry slurs. Wait, Harry is drunk? He never gets drunk.

“I’m gonna do some shooters.”

“Shooters?” He mimics your American accent.

“Yup, give me your hand.” You lick a small spot on the top of his hand, his eyes growing wide at the PDA, and shake some salt on it. You do the same to your own hand. “Okay, so, how it goes is, you lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime.”

Eleanor and Louis do as you did, and you all lick the salt at the same time. You take your shot, and grab the lime immediately to suck on. Harry can’t help but watch as your teeth sink into the fruit and suck the juice. You take it out of your mouth and look at them.

“See, way more fun way to take a shot.”

You start to feel a bit tipsy, and suddenly the music is calling you. You walk away without saying anything to find Sarah and Rachel. The three of you form a little group so you can dance. Niall really did have the perfect layout for a party. There was room to sit or stand around to just chat, and he had the room for dancing. Whatever playlist was on was hitting just right. Some oldies and newer hits was the perfect combination.

Eleanor leaves to use the bathroom, and Niall goes to stand with Louis and Harry, as the boys watch the girls dance.

“I gotta say Harry, she sure knows how to move it.” Louis says.

“Yeah, she sure does. I would have loved to know her in uni, apparently she was quite the party animal.”

“The three of them were.” Niall says, taking a sip of his drink. “Sarah has told me some wild stories. (y/n) apparently is one of the most fun people to party with.”

You move along effortlessly to the beat of the song. You and your friends are laughing and singing along loudly to the music, but no one can really hear you. A lot of other people start dancing, it might as well be a club in here.

“Lou?” Eleanor says after coming back from the bathroom.

“Yeah, love?”

“Come dance with me?”

“You bet, see ya guys out there.” Harry rolls his eyes as Eleanor drags him away.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was comin’?” Harry looks at Niall with a pout.

“Thought he was goin’ to flake. He’ll be around all weekend, don’t worry you two can have some alone time, I’ll make sure of it. Just try to pretend to be happy for him.”

“I am happy for him, I just wish he found any other girl to make him happy.” Niall starts to walk away. “Where you goin’?”

“My girl is out there shakin’ her ass, so you better believe I’m gonna go dance with her, and you should do the same, plenty of guys are watchin’ her.” He points over at you, and it was true. Plenty of people were watching you.

A drunk Harry stumbles over to you, and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your backside. He starts dancing with you, like really dancing with you. He wasn’t the embarrassed man who referred to himself as a giraffe the first time you went dancing with him. You wondered if this was what he was like in college, if he would grind with girls to show them what he had, and bring them home with him. You shake the thought from your head, and move against him in perfect rhythm. He turns your around to face him, his hands slipping down to your butt. You wrap your arms around his neck, and dance on him. He’s dying to know your college stories. You seem like such a good girl, but maybe not, and he wanted to hear all about it.

In a bold move, almost forgetting where you were, you grab hold of his collar, and yank his face down to yours, kissing him. He puts his hands on your face, and pulls you in for a deeper kiss, while your hands go on his hips. Your tongue is instantly in his mouth, and he tastes like tequila. He was so incredibly sexy, and you were extremely turned on. You hadn’t been able to do anything all week with your period in the way. You still pleasured him because you wanted to, but you missed his touch.

“Jesus, look at ‘em go.” Louis nudges Niall, taking a break from the dancing.

“You know, I’ve only ever seen them kiss in public once, and it was nothin’ like that.”

“He’s really into her, huh?”

“He asked her to be his girlfriend three weeks in.”

“Wow, yup, he’s got it bad. Wonder what it is?”

“She’s just…a good person. Instant connection.”

“Good for the lad, he deserves a good woman.”

Harry breaks your kiss, as he remembered where you are. If you were anyone else, he would take you and lead you to the bathroom, press you against the wall, and take you from behind. But he couldn’t do that with you, not yet anyways.  He leaves you to dance with your friends, and you catch him dancing with Louis and Niall. You can’t help but take your phone out and take a quick video of the occasion. You and your friends take selfies and videos of yourselves. You’re still in awe of Harry, having more fun that you had ever seen him have. Louis brought out an exceptional mood in him. It was funny to see the three of them sing along to the same song, wondering what Harry’s singing voice might sound like.

The party slowly dissipated, but not before you and Harry were deemed best costumes. You didn’t win anything, but the bragging rights were nice. You offered to help clean up, but Sarah told you she would help Niall. Harry was in deep conversation with Louis while you went to grab your coats. They were looking at Louis’ phone and snickering like children. You smile and hand Harry his coat.

“Lou, I’m gonna go get settled in the guest room, night Harry.” Eleanor said.

“You’re stayin’ here?”

“Yeah, hotel was too expensive. What are you up to tomorrow, was hoping to just have lunch with the lads.”

“I can definitely do that.” Harry turns to you. “You don’t mind right?”

“Not at all, babe.”

“Just text me tomorrow, mate.” The two hug, and Harry hooks an arm around your waist. “Oi, Niall!” Harry yells.

“What?” He yells from the kitchen.

“Great party mate, I’ll be by tomorrow.”

The cold air on the street slaps the two of you in the face.  You take your phone out to order an uber as Harry holds you from behind, humming into your hair. You had never seen him quite so drunk before. Usually you were the one that was drunk while he was perfectly fine. You were still buzzed, but you were nowhere near where he was. You lost count of how many shots he had actually taken. You just knew he consumed a lot of tequila.

The uber pulls up pretty quickly, and you both climb in. You keep an arm around Harry, and he rests his head against your shoulder, still humming some song you can’t quite make out. You key into his apartment, and immediately take your shoes off. He watches you walk into the bathroom. You really needed to pee, and you needed to wash off that black make up on your nose. You take your dog ears off, but leave everything else on. He’s by the sink drinking some water when you return.

“Didja have fun tonight baby?” He asks you, guzzling down the water.

“Yes, babe, don’t drink that so fast, it’ll upset your stomach.”

“Aw, are ya gonna take care of me tonight?” He says in the sweetest voice. “Treat me like your l’il baby?”

“Do you want to be treated like a baby?” You raise an eyebrow at his funny words.

“Not particularly.” He slurs. “Did you know that I love babies?”

“Yes, you’ve told me before, remember? You like shooting maternity photos for people.”

“You know, I really do.”

“I’m glad you had fun tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so much.”

“S’not true.” He pouts. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I have fun with my friends when we haven’t seen each other in a while too. You and Louis looked like you were having a great time.”

“We were, he’s really my best mate. Niall is too, the three of us are like the three amigos.”

“So I saw. It was funny watching you three dance together.”

“It was just like being in uni again. Everyone always wanted to come to our parties, we threw the best parties (y/n).”

“I believe it.”

“Are you mad?”

“What? No, of course not, why would I be?”

“Because I drank a lot more than I should have. I was supposed to get ya home.”

“But you did, the uber was just fine.”

“Let’s go sit on the couch, yeah?” He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you towards the couch. Before you can sit down he looks you up down. “Where’d ya nose go?”

“Washed it off.” You shrugged.

“This is such a sexy outfit, have I told ya that yet tonight?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You giggle. “But it’s always nice to hear.” He pulls you close to him, and pats your bum.

“You have the best ass I have ever seen, have I ever told you that?” You feel your cheeks flush. He was starting to get fresh. You slip your hands to his butt to mimic what he’s doing to you.

“I could say the same about you.” Giving one of his cheeks a little pinch, he jumps back a half inch.

“Oi, if you do that again, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Oh really?”

You start pinching at him again, and he starts to tickle you, making a ghastly laugh come from you. You slap your hand over your mouth, but he pulls it away. You try to tickle him back, and you end up chasing him around his little apartment. He picks you up from behind, swinging you around, making you squeal. He puts you down on the bed, he hops over you and lays on his back, he looks at you and taps his legs. You get the idea and crawl on top of him, straddling his legs.

“I’d like this to come off ya now.” He slips your straps off your shoulders. “If that’s alright with you.”

You lean up, and put your arms through the straps. You push the material down only a little, causing Harry to pout for the millionth time tonight.

“I’m not wearing a bra with this.”

“I know.”

“I like when you take your time with me.”

Harry sits up against the headboard so you can sit on him easier. He brings his mouth to your jaw, and kisses down your neck. He sinks his teeth in where he always does. The skin must be raw there with how often he kisses you in that spot. He licks over it to soothe you, and kisses down your chest. His hands move up to your breasts, and kneads them through the material. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod yes. One hand moves to the back of the jumpsuit, and un zips the small zipper so he can easily tug the material down. Your breasts pop out, and he looks like a kid in candy store. Sloppy wet kisses cover your chest instantly. He sucks on your left breast, and you groan with your head rolling back. He take the piercing between his teeth and he twists it. You roll your hips on him involuntarily.

“You like that?” He coos. You nod your head. “Use your words baby.”

“Yes, I like that.” You say through your teeth, as he continues to suck on your tender nipple. Your hands go straight into his hair and rake over his scalp, causing him to moan while he sucks on you.

“I gotta get his off of ya, please will you let me?”

“Yes, but you have to take yours off too.”

You hope off the bed, and he does the same. You take his shirt off him, and push his shorts down his legs, careful to leave his boxers on. Your jumpsuit falls off, pooling at your feet, and revealing a white lace thong. Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“You, you were wearing this all night?”

“Um, yeah?”

He takes you, and gently bends you over the bed. You rubs a hand over your ass. You half expect him to spank you, but he knows better, he knows you don’t want that. A finger dips into the material, and he plays with it for a moment.

“Your ass looks amazing right now.” You start giggling. “What?”

“I can’t tell if you’re an ass man or a tit man. You seem to really like both.” You say looking back at him.

“If it’s a part of your body, then I like it.” He puts both hands on your ass and kneads your cheeks. “This is just pure perfection.” He leans forward to press himself against you. He’s so hard against you, it makes you push back into him. “(y/n), can we try something different tonight?”

“Harry”, you stand up to face him, taking his hands in yours. This was a dreaded question. Selfishly, you liked things how they were. You knew he wanted to feel every inch of you, but you were still working through things at therapy, and you just couldn’t let him touch you like that yet. You sigh, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry, I’m just not ready for-“ You’re cut off by his hands on your face and his mouth on yours.

“I didn’t mean, doing more. I just had a different position in mind. I’m not ever going to suggest anything more until you say so.” He reassures her.

“Alright, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, first, how would you feel about sitting on my face?” Your eyes nearly pop out. That wasn’t something you did often. Even though his head had been between your legs countless time, sitting on his face just seemed really vulnerable. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. To ride his face, to be so in control of the situation.

“Yeah, we could try that. What was the second?”

“Hm?”

“You said first, what’s the second position?”

“Let’s just try this, and then I’ll bring that up.” He says with a grin.

“Okay, but, let’s turn the lights off.” You point the switch on the wall, and he flicks it off.

“Take your panties off baby.”

You slide the thong off and toss it on the floor. He leaves his boxers on for now. Harry lays on the bed, right next to you. Your breathing felt heavy as you crept your way up to him.

“Don’t be shy, love. You’re so beautiful, I’m dying to see you from this angle.”

With his words of encouragement, you swung your leg over him, and lowered yourself onto his face. You were already dripping for him. The second he started sucking on your nipples you were a goner. Harry started to suck on your clit, and you grabbed at his headboard. You let out a breathless moan at the way he nibbled and sucked on your most sensitive area. You sunk down on him a little, and he moved his mouth to your warm, dripping center. His tongue lapped around you for a moment, but went up inside you so you could ride him. His hands moved to your hips and gently rocked you. You started to move yourself slowly against his face. His little bit of stubble adding the perfect amount of friction. Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him back and forth, riding his tongue. Your moans started to get louder and louder, clutching at the headboard, trying to pinch your legs together, looking for some release. But his hands on your thighs kept your legs open. You didn’t know if it was the different angle, or the fact that you were so in control, but you were feeling amazing. You loved looking down seeing him under you like this. You rocked faster on him, a thumb moving to rub your clit. That’s when you knew you were done for.

“Oh, fuck, Harry! Fuck!” You moaned out, over and over. “I’m goonnnnaaa, ahhh…” You came, hard on his tongue. He slowly sucked on you so you could ride your high out. He lifted you off of him, and he wipes his face. His chest was heaving up and down, and slowly he steadied it. He looked up at you and smiled.

“That was so hot, did you like it?”

“Yeah, it felt incredible. So, um…” You knew you weren’t done with him yet. “What was the other position?”

“Eager?”

“Curious.”

“I want to do that to you, while you do it to me.” You furrow your eyebrows for a second, putting two and two together. A slight squeak leaving your mouth.

“Are you asking me to 69?” He nods at you.

“Would you feel comfortable with that?”

“Well, would you have to eat me out…like from behind?”

“Yup.” He’s so comfortable with it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have your ass in his face like that. You also didn’t want him accidentally licking your asshole or something. “If you don’t want to it’s okay, I just thought it might be fun to do that at the same time.”

“Well, we can try, and if I feel weird we’ll stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You reach down and tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips up so you can bring them down his legs, tossing them aside. You wanted him in your mouth, that wasn’t the problem. You also didn’t want to be that close to his asshole either. He probably didn’t care because he was still intoxicated. You stare at his dick, it is absolutely throbbing for you, this snaps you out of any concern.

“Right, so it’s a little easier if we both lay on our side.” Confirmation that he’s done this before, wonderful. You want to roll your eyes at him, but you know he didn’t mean anything by the comment.

You lay on your left side, eyeing his dick that has begun to leak at the tip. You feel him move between your legs, as you stroke your thumb over his tip. His mouth is on you again, and you moan out that different sensation you’re getting from having him lick you from the opposite direction. You put on hand on his hip, and the other on his dick. You start out with just the tip in your mouth while your hand worked his base. You feel Harry groan into you, causing you to moan with him in your mouth. You had never done something quite so erotic. He licked you quicker and quicker, as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your mouth. He rocks his hips into you as you do to him, you’re way more turned on than you thought you’d be. His chin is rubbing against your clit as his tongue goes back inside you.

“Ahh, shit!” You say with him in your mouth, taking him deeper. You feel him hit the back of your throat as he rocks into you, and you choke on him for a second. He stops to see if you’re alright. “Fuck, don’t stop Harry!” You say pumping just for a moment before wrapping your swollen lips around him again.

You felt your stomach tighten and you knew your release was coming. You could feel tears streaming down your cheeks from having his cock so deep down your throat, but you loved the way he tasted. Neither of you warn each other, just as you’re releasing on his tongue, his hot come comes shooting to the back of your throat. You take as much of it into your mouth as you can, but you need to moan out from your high. You cough up some of his come back on his dick, and you try to catch your breath. Harry turns his body so he’s fully laying on his back. You swallow what you can of the come that’s still in your mouth. You feel him yank at your arm, and he pulls you up, so you’re lying on his chest. He’s stroking your hair, trying to steady his breathing. His chest is laced with sweat.

“How, how did you like that?”

“It was different. But it felt amazing. I love the way it feels when you’re do that and you moan into me, it’s so hot Harry.” He moves to kiss you but you back away. “I should really go rinse my mouth out first.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” His pupils are still blown out. You look at his dick, it’s twitching, could it really be getting hard again? “Lemme kiss ya.”

“Please, I just want to rinse my mouth out, hold on a sec.” You quickly go to the bathroom, and rinse your mouth out. You’re back to the bed quick, just like you said. “See? Okay, now I’ll kiss you.”

You lean down and kiss him, slightly tasting yourself on his lips, but it’s not a big deal. He sucks on your bottom lip, biting it pretty good, and you groan. Your hands are in his hair in seconds, pulling at it. He wraps his arms around you, and pulls you on top of him. You keep your lower half hovering over him, not wanting to make contact.

“Please, I’m so hard again, please touch me.” He says against your lips.

“I thought when guys drank like this they had a hard time getting it up.” You say taking him into your small hand, giving him slow pumps.

“It has the opposite effect on me, god that feels good.”

You pump him until he’s panting. You loved the sight of his parted lips, and the way his hands grabbed all over your body.

“(y/n), can I please come on your ass?” You’re surprised at him.

“Um, sure.” You squeak.

You get off him quickly and lay on your stomach. He grips himself in one hand, and puts the other on your hip. He pulls you up slightly so your butt is more in the air. You hear him moan out, and it nearly makes you come again. Sensing this, at the sight of you squeezing your legs together, Harry reaches around to rub your clit, careful to only use his thumb.

“Fuck!” You scream out, feeling your third release of the night come at the same you feel his hot come spread all over of your back and butt. You nearly collapse on the mattress. You hear the bed creak, and watch as Harry saunters to the bathroom, coming back with a towel. He wipes you clean, and you turn over, amazed by him and what his simple touch does to you. You know you need to get up to pee, if you don’t you’ll regret it. He puts on a clean pair of boxers, and watches you go into the bathroom. You’re still crazy wet. A mix of you and him. You almost feel bad having to wipe it all away, but no guy will ever be worth having a UTI for.

“Here, wanna wear my shirt? You always look so cute in my clothes.” He coos, holding up a t-shirt. You happily take it and put it on. You get back on the bed with him, and he hugs you close to his bare chest. “You did so good baby, so good. You were amazing.” He rubs your back. You loved the way he always tried to make you feel better. It’s not like you were having BDSM, it’s not like he slapped you around. It wasn’t like you needed time to come back to him. But he knew you were always after doing something new or different.

“It was really nice, Harry. A good suggestion.” You snuggle into him, and he puts the comforter over the both of you. “Thank you for always being so nice to me.” You knew he’d be rougher with you if you let him. You knew if you said the word, you’d let him raw you over his desk. That was the thing with him though. He always asked for permission, and he didn’t do anything unless you said so.

[camillemontespan]

double date [AU. Drake Walker, MC]

Just an AU I thought of writing, hope you enjoy. 

Anecdote: I genuinely once broke up with a guy I was seeing because he was horrified at the thought of pancakes for breakfast. He was watching his sugar intake and protein levels. I realised I didn’t need that kind of negativity in my life.

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @sirbeepsalot @drakesensworld @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @iplaydrake @katedrakeohd @carabeth @notoriouscs @be-still-my-aching-heart

*****************************************************************************************

‘Hey man, we’re nearly at the restaurant,’ Drake said into the phone. 

‘Awesome. See you in a second, I’m just getting to the door now.’

They rounded the corner and saw the gold fronted facade of the Italian restaurant. Leo was standing outside and he raised his hand in greeting. 

‘Drake! And girlfriend! How nice to meet you!’

Olivia shook his hand firmly. ‘Hi Leo. Drake’s told me so much about you. Not all of it good.’

Leo burst out laughing. ‘Ah, he warned me you have teeth!’ He shook his head, still chuckling, then looked at Drake. ‘Camille’s on her way, she’s running late from work. She apologises profusely and has told me to order the most expensive bottle of alcohol for the table and she’ll pay for it.’

Drake smirked. ‘Sounds like my kind of woman.’

Olivia elbowed him. ‘No whiskey for you tonight, Drake.’

Drake sighed and guided her into the restaurant. Leo clapped him on the back. ‘How nice is this, huh? A double date! We’ve worked together for ages and still not met each other’s partners. This’ll be fun.’

Drake fought the feeling of dread that was building in his stomach. Fun was not going to be on the menu.  Double dates were the worst. 

*****************************************************************************************

‘Sorry I’m late! Aaah I had a deadline and traffic was a nightmare, such a disaster.. anyway, I’m here, I’m here! Did you guys get the most expensive bottle like I told you to?’

Drake looked up to see a dark haired woman rushing towards their table at the window. Her hair was windswept and she was panting slightly. She had clearly been running. 

Leo stood up and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Don’t worry babe. This is my work friend, Drake, and his girlfriend Olivia.’

Camille shot them both a mega watt smile. Drake blinked in surprise. She was ridiculously pretty; gorgeous actually. Big brown eyes, caramel skin,  sharp cheekbones and a smile that lit up her eyes. ‘Really nice to meet you both,’ she said and Drake could tell she was genuine. 

Camille shrugged off her trench coat and sat down beside Leo, who threw his arm across the back of her chair. ‘And breathe!’ he joked. Camille giggled and opened her menu. ‘So, what are we ordering drinks wise?’

‘The champagne to share,’ Olivia told her. 

‘Ah, I’m not keen on champagne really..’ Camille said. Olivia stared at her. ‘I’m sure Leo said you were from France. How can you not like champagne?’

‘I was born in New York. I’ve got French blood but I’m not from France,’ Camille said, giving her a smile. ‘I don’t know, I just don’t like the taste.’ 

‘How about wine?’ Leo suggested. They agreed on wine and read over the food options. ‘I’m going to go for the lobster,’ Leo said. ‘Why not? We’ve just been paid!’

Olivia smirked. ‘I might join you on that. I do love pulling it apart.’

Camille looked like she was going to dry heave. ‘Gnocchi for me, I think,’ she decided. 

‘Babe, we’re trying to eat more protein!’ Leo said. 

‘No Leo, you’re trying to eat more protein,’ Camille replied. ‘You’re the one who climbs up all those mountains, you need protein. Meanwhile, I like carbs.'

'We're not eating carbs right now,' Leo chuckled.

'Yeah, at home. This is a restaurant, the rules don't apply.'

Drake smirked as he took a sip of wine. He liked her logic.

Olivia wrinkled her nose. ‘Ugh carbs, no thank you.’

Drake looked at Camille and saw her looking a little dejected. ‘I’m thinking the spaghetti carbonara,’ he announced. 

Olivia rolled her eyes and Camille flashed him a small smile. Drake gave her a wink and put his menu down.

'So what do you do at work Drake?' Camille asked.

'I work in the graphic design team,' he told her.

Camille grinned. 'That's really cool! Do you enjoy it?'

'Yeah, I do. Its not what I'd love to do in life but you know, it pays the bills..'

'Plus you get to hang out with me!' Leo chimed in. Drake smirked. 'That's obviously the best perk of the job.'

'What would you really like to do then?' Camille asked, studying him.

Drake blushed. 'Set up my own whiskey business.. I'd call it Lone Star.'

Camille looked delighted at this pipe dream. Olivia, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to throttle him.

'Lone Star as in Texas?' Camille asked. 'You're from Texas?'

'Born and bred,' Drake replied, giving her a warm grin.

'What do you do Olivia?' Camille asked. Olivia took a sip of wine. 'I work for Trend magazine.'

'What? Oh my god, I'm so jealous! Trend is my bible!' Camille squealed. 'I have all the Collectors Editions!'

'You have taste, girl,' Olivia said, giving her an actual smile. Drake breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Olivia was being nice. He thought Camille was done for after her 'I’m not keen on champagne' comment.

'What's Ana de Luca like? Is she as bad ass as everyone says she is?'

'More so!' Olivia said. 'She's incredible.'

Leo chuckled and looked at Drake. 'Shall we just leave these two to enjoy their date?'

Drake smirked and watched as the two women talked. This was the Olivia he liked. The Olivia everyone should get to see. Unfortunately, ice cold Olivia was becoming more common for him now. This was the first time they had actually been together in a week.

He zoned back into the conversation. 'I really want Camille to join me in my climbing but she won't,' Leo was telling Olivia.

'That's because I'm scared of heights,' Camille replied. 'Terrified of them actually.'

'Sometimes the best way to overcome a fear is just to face it head on,' Leo explained. 'Otherwise you'll never be free.'

'I am free, Leo.'

The table went quiet. Leo, sensing the awkwardness, tucked a lock of Camille's hair behind her ear. 'Come on baby, I was just trying to help.'

Camille downed the last of her wine and reached for the bottle to refill. Drake watched her and noticed that her hand was trembling.

Leo cleared his throat. 'I'm going outside for a smoke.'

'Ooh I'll join you!' Olivia said. Leo grinned and held out his arm for her to take. The two of them went out onto the terrace, leaving Drake and Camille at the table facing each other.

*******************************************************************************************

'You okay?' Drake asked. Camille nodded mutely. Drake bit his lip.

She then spoke. 'I'm thinking about breaking up with him.'

Drake's eyes widened in shock. 'What? Why?'

She sighed. 'It's just.. everything. I think he’s great but I'm just exhausted. He's so full on, you know? When I'm with him, I feel like I constantly have to be on. I've been working late hours recently, like staying in the office until 10pm and when I get home, I'm tired. But he always needs to be doing something. He doesn't understand that sometimes I just want to be by myself, binge watch Queer Eye and eat all of the carbs I want. But no, carbs are banned in our apartment. I miss pizza, Drake. Like I could cry when I think about how much I miss pizza. '

Drake's eyes roamed over her body. 'You're in really good shape,’ he said without thinking.

'Pilates and soul cycle,’ she replied, not caring.

'Ah gotcha,' Drake said. He leaned closer to her, conspiratorially. 'If it helps, Olivia's banned me from eating ice cream. Doesn't stop me though. Last week, half a tub had melted and instead of throwing it away... I drank it.'

Camille threw her head back and burst out laughing, causing some diners to look at her over their soup. Drake laughed too as he watched her. Camille picked up her napkin and dabbed at her watery eyes. 'Shall we order dessert just to spite them?' she joked.

'Let's get one to share!'

Their laughing died down and Drake looked at Camille seriously. 'So you're breaking up with him because you miss pizza?'

She bit her lip. 'That's one reason.. I just feel like a shadow of myself sometimes. I am fun and I am spontaneous, but you wouldn't think that because Leo is always going to go further with it. I look so dull in comparison. I feel boring when I'm with him. I'd love to try climbing mountains but the sheer thought of it makes me clam up but he doesn’t understand that. I wish I would say yes to drinks after working a 14 hour work day but I don't. I just feel like I've lost a little of Camille. You know? Leo burns so bright, anyone beside him just fades into obscurity. He needs someone who can keep up with him, challenge him.. and to be honest, that's not me. '

Drake reached out and touched her hand. She looked up, her eyes wide, and Drake reddened. He hadn't meant to do that.

'I feel like I disappoint Olivia on a daily basis,' he said quietly.

'How come?'

'We've been together for a year and during that time, I guess I struggled with alcohol.'

If Camille was surprised, she didn't let on. She kept her gaze on him.

'Whiskey,' Drake continued.

'But you want to start your own business...'

'I do and I never will,' he replied bluntly. 'I wish I could but after a few too many incidents, I cut down. I still drink whiskey but nowhere near the amount I was tanking everyday.'

'So Olivia is trying to help you stay away from it.'

'Yes, she is. I'm grateful to her for that but now, she just watches over me like a hawk. She monitors my whiskey intake. Sometimes, I feel like a child and the fact is, if I get tempted to have more than one, I feel I'm disappointing her. Like I'm letting her down. I know she can’t breathe easy any time we are in a bar or a restaurant like this and whiskey is on the menu. I joke about having one, because if you can’t laugh at yourself, when can you? But yeah..’

He trailed off.

Camille bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry.’

His eyes met hers. ‘My fault.’

‘No it’s not. Everyone has their demons, Drake.’ 

They stared at each other for a long moment. They jumped when they heard Leo’s voice. ‘You two look cosy!’

Drake cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. Olivia sat down beside him, ruffling his hair. ‘Food’s on the way,’ Leo told them. He flashed Camille a warm smile and she smiled faintly back.

*****************************************************************************************

Dinner passed by with no other tense moments or hiccups. Leo was his usual jubilant self, tearing at the lobster and waving its claws in Camille’s face. He was oblivious to the growing sadness that sat beside him. Olivia became more tactile, touching Drake’s hands, running her feet up his legs, calling him ‘baby.’ 

He knew it was because Camille was there. The two women may be getting on well, but Drake could tell Olivia was alert. She had obviously seen Drake and Camille getting along and felt the rising threat.

Was there a threat? Drake wasn’t sure but he knew that he liked Camille’s smile and the way she laughed without self consciousness. That she didn’t judge him and she just listened. He also liked the way she would tousle her hair and as she moved, her shirt would open slightly and he would catch a glimpse of the lace on her black bra. 

Enough. His girlfriend was there and Camille had Leo. He looked at Camille and Leo now; it was strange. Sometimes, Camille would give herself over to him and allow herself to be wrapped up in a cuddle. Or she would hold his hand on the table. Leo was very affectionate. 

‘Dessert?’ Camille asked, winking at Drake when the waiter took away their dinner plates. Drake chuckled and Olivia frowned at him, trying to work out the joke. Leo simply said, ‘Bill please, good sir!’ He was quite tipsy now.

*******************************************************************************************

Leo was very tipsy actually. He had drank more of the wine than anyone and had insisted on having a shot of whiskey before they left; Drake had declined a shot, much to Olivia’s relief. 

Camille was trying her best to hold Leo up but he kept slumping on her. Drake stepped in to help. ‘I love you man!’ Leo shouted. Drake sighed. ‘Love you too, Leo.’

Olivia flagged down two taxis for each couple. She gave Camille a brief hug goodbye and climbed in. 

‘Are you going to be okay with him?’ Drake asked her. Camille nodded. ‘Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle.’

Leo proceeded to vomit into the gutter.

Camille closed her eyes. Drake turned to Olivia who was waiting in the taxi. ‘Liv, I’ll be home later. I’m going to help Camille with Leo.’

‘Really, there’s no need!’ Camille protested. Drake held his hand up, silencing her. He waited for Olivia to respond.

‘Be quiet when you get in,’ was all she said. 

Her taxi pulled away and Drake put Leo into the other waiting taxi. Camille smiled gratefully and climbed in beside him, with Drake following. ‘54 Spring Street, SoHo please,’ Camille said. 

Leo’s head flopped down on Camille’s shoulder and she squeezed his hand. 

*****************************************************************************************

They had managed to get Leo up the stairs and into the apartment. Drake couldn’t believe that Camille had been willing to do it herself; she would have struggled. As Camille turned off the bedroom light, she padded through to the hallway where Drake waited.

‘Thank you for that,’ she said quietly. ‘Really kind of you to help.’ 

Drake shrugged. ‘Think nothing of it. Really.’

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and watched as he shuffled awkwardly. ‘It would be nice to see you again,’ she told him. ‘You’re a good guy.’

‘Here, put your number in my phone,’ he suggested, handing his phone to her. She took it and typed in her name and number.

‘Camille Montespan?’

‘Yup. So fucking French,’ she smirked. Drake smiled. ‘I like it. Montespan.’

‘What’s your last name?’

‘Walker.’

She tested saying it. ‘Drake Walker.’

He blushed now. ‘Montespan.’

There was a silence. Drake cleared his throat and reached out to open the front door. He turned to her. ‘Goodnight, I guess.’

‘Goodnight.’ She reached out to give him a hug. She was a tall woman but she felt tiny when he wrapped his arms around her. She smelled of coconut. 

This hug was lasting longer than necessary. Drake liked it.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Camille murmured. They began to part slowly, her hands still on his shoulders. He looked down at her. She had pretty eyes.

Their mouths crashed together suddenly. Drake’s hands were in her hair, tangling it around his fingers, and their tongues twirled against each other. He pushed her against the wall and Camille groaned, enjoying this. His hands roamed her body. She had delicate curves; he could feel her heart hammering. 

‘Oh god..’ he murmured as he kissed her neck. 

They heard snoring.

Camille pulled away from him, her eyes wild. Leo was in the other room. They had been kissing like teenagers while her boyfriend had been sleeping in the other room. Drake let out a haggered breath. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘No, I am.’

‘I’m just gonna go,’ he told her, cursing himself. Camille nodded briskly. 

He stole one last glance at her as he left her apartment. She looked like she had seen a ghost. 

******************************************************************************************

Drake watched the city go by as the taxi made its way back to his apartment that he shared with Olivia. He hoped she wouldn’t smell Camille’s perfume or the coconut scent of her hair on his clothes.

His phone pinged with a text. He opened it up, wincing at the screensaver he had of him and Olivia on top of the Empire State Building, smiling at the camera, and read the message. 

Camille. ‘Just found ice cream in the fridge. Sneaking some now. I’ll think of you while I eat it.’

Drake let out a laugh. Good, she wasn’t awkward for long. He texted back. 

‘Maybe we get dessert to share next time?’

His phone pinged back instantly. ‘Definitley. OMFG this ice cream is so good!’

He replied: ‘Not as good when it’s melted.’

A minute later. ‘Brb, just going to microwave it.’

Drake was about to respond but stopped himself. He put the phone in his pocket. 

I’m in trouble here.

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Wipeout

Prompt: Whumptober Day 10, Unconscious

Summary: MarkBop tries to skate down a handrail, key word being “tries.”

Warnings: Head trauma, some graphic descriptions

Tagging: @peribloke (ask to be tagged!)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

~

It was a bad idea from the start, but when did that ever stop Bingiplier? And when did that ever stop MarkBop from joining in, too?

“You sure about this, Bing?” Bop asks, staring at the handrail before them both. They’re at the top of a staircase near the skatepark, one that plenty of people have skated down before.

“Of course, dude!” Bing exclaims, “This’ll be sick! We’ve been practicing, haven’t we?”

That’s true, they have. But the rails they practiced on were shorter, and easier to grab with the board. A fall from their practice rail might bruise a knee. But here, to fall is such a long way down. The handrail is long, the staircase is steep. Bop is nervous.

Then again, Bop is nervous very often. Eric Derekson may have taken up the mantle of “house worrywart” since he came to Ego Inc., but the title was Bop’s first, and he’s still a close second in terms of freaking out about everything. So maybe the fact that Bop is nervous about skating down this handrail doesn’t mean much. Besides, Bing is so excited, and Bop loves seeing his boyfriend so happy. He doesn’t want to rain on his parade.

“You first, then,” Bop finally says. Bing grins.

“Challenge accepted,” he replies.

He gives himself a running start, of course, going back a few yards before putting down his board and kicking off. He glides, building momentum, until he reaches the handrail and jumps. The board follows like it’s attached to his feet, landing perfectly across the rail. Bop’s heart catches in his throat as Bing slides down, arms out to keep balance. It’s the same terror and thrill that stops his heart with every trick Bing attempts. But Bing glides all the way down the stairwell and jumps off gracefully, though his stumbles a bit on landing and slides right off his board.

“Oof,” Bing grunts, rubbing his side as he picks himself up off the ground. “Well, I think that was still pretty good. What do you think, babe?”

“It was great!” Bop exclaims, and he means it. “I was real nervous, but you barely even wobbled! That was so cool.” He looks at the handrail with trepidation. “I doubt mine’ll be as good.”

“Aw, you’ll do great, Bop!” Bing encourages. “Maybe you’ll be the one to stick the landing.” He grins sheepishly at his own joke. “Or maybe best two out of three.”

“Maybe just one…” Bop mumbles, too quiet for Bing to hear from the bottom of the stairs. Bing has already moved out of Bop’s way and is looking up at him, waiting.

Well, here goes nothing.

Bop uses the same running start as Bing. This part’s easy; Bop glides as smoothly as Bing did. The jump to the rail isn’t that hard, either; he’s done similar plenty of times before. The balancing, though, taking the railing one long second at a time and not getting psyched out, not looking down…that’s the difficult part. Bop’s landing on the rail isn’t as good as Bing’s was; it’s wobbly, and he does his best to recalibrate, regain balance on the way down, but speed and balance tend not to agree. He’s only made it halfway down the handrail when he loses his balance completely.

His head strikes the edge of a concrete stair. The effect is instant. The sun turns off.

~~~

Coming back is not instant. It’s laborious, long. Bop’s head feels underwater; heavy and indistinct. When he finally manages to crack his eyes open, the room is too bright to make anything out. There’s someone there with him, maybe more than one person, and he’s laying down in a bed. If his head were clearer he’d be able to put it together, but his brain feels like soup. Soup that aches.

“Oh my god, Doc, is he awake!?” someone cries. It sounds dull and faraway. “Is he okay, is anything–”

“Easy,” says someone else, “He’s still hurt, I need to evaluate him. We have to be alone for that.”

“Doc, c’mon, please–”

“Bing, come on,” says a third voice, more patient but just as worried, “We’ll see him later. It’s okay.”

The name “Bing,” even in the state Bop’s in, strikes him as important. But he’s still blinking the room into focus, still trying to recognize the one remaining person.

“Are you there, Bop?” he asks. He strokes Bop’s hair, and Bop sighs at the gentle, comforting touch. “That probably felt better than everything else your head’s been through lately, huh?”

Finally, Bop starts to see clearly through the fuzzy, aching haze.

“Doc?”

“Yep,” Dr. Iplier affirms, giving Bop a gentle smile. “You sure freaked us out earlier. How are you feeling? You shouldn’t be in much pain; you’re on about as much painkiller as I can give you.”

So that’s why Bop feels so detached and indistinct.

“Feel weird” he manages, “Headache.”

“Sounds about right,” Dr. Iplier says, “You managed to give yourself a depressed skull fracture; you’re lucky you didn’t get any brain damage. You’ve got a lot of screws and stitches in your head now, and they’ll be there for a while.” He pauses. “You have an interesting side shave now, too, under all your bandages.”

“How…long’s it been?” Bop asks.

“Five days,” Dr. Iplier answers. He sighs. “I won’t lie, Bop, it was pretty dicey for a while there. You lost a ton of blood and there was a lot of swelling and fluid buildup in your brain. I did some surgery to put your skull back together and ease the pressure on your brain, and you’ve been in a medically induced coma for the past few days to stave off brain damage. The fact that you can talk and have some awareness of yourself and your surroundings is a good sign, but you’ll be in the clinic for a while longer.”

Bop’s head is still swimming, but for a different reason now. It’s hard to believe he’s been out for so long, hard to believe all that damage happened to him. He’s only just now remembering what happened, but he can’t remember how exactly he got hurt. He knows he was skating with Bing, he knows they were gonna finally skate down that handrail, but he can’t remember actually doing it.

He explains as much to Dr. Iplier, answering as many questions as he can about how he feels and what he remembers until his eyes start to close against his will.

“Tired?” Dr. Iplier asks, a smile in his voice. He strokes Bop’s hair again. “Go to sleep. I’ll keep checking in, but press the call button if you need me.”

Bop nods minutely before sinking into deep, painkiller-laced sleep.

~~~

It’s a few more periods of wake and sleep spread throughout one more day before Bop feels well enough that Dr. Iplier decides he can have visitors.

Bop is sitting up in bed when Bing comes in. He’s an android, so he has no bags under his eyes, no bloodshot veins crisscrossing the whites of his eyes, but the fact that Bop can see his eyes at all is unusual. Bing’s sunglasses are tucked into his tank top, and his expression is more gutted and afraid than Bop has ever seen it. But even so, there’s a light to his eyes and his posture is so loose he looks fit to collapse with relief.

“Boppy,” he murmurs as he sits beside Bop in the plastic clinic chair, “How…how are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday,” Bop answers. His head is still swathed in bandages, but he’s not on as many painkillers and his mind is clearer. He’s even gained some memory from immediately before the accident. He offers Bing a smile; he can tell he needs it. Bing’s answering grin is shaky.

“Awesome, that’s–” He cuts himself off, savagely rubbing his eyes as his grin vanishes. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Bing–”

“It was horrible.” Bing’s eyes are already overflowing with tears as he starts to tremble. “You were bleeding all over the place, your head w-wasn’t shaped right, and you wouldn’t w-wake up. I thought you were dead. I thought I got you killed.” He sobs. “And then when Doc did surgery on you and said he had to put you in a medical coma, I th-thought you were gonna die. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I pressured you into skating the handrail, I never should’ve–” He can’t talk anymore through his sobs, and he helplessly buries his face in his hands.

“Bing, honey,” Bop murmurs, nearly moved to tears himself at Bing’s despair. He puts an arm around Bing, pulls him closer, tugs him until he’s laying on the clinic bed with Bop. Bing sobs into the crook of Bop’s neck as Bop strokes his hair, using one arm to hug Bing against him.

“I’m sorry,” Bing sobs again when he can.

“It wasn’t your fault, honey,” Bop tells him, “You didn’t make me do anything. I would’ve refused to do it if I’d wanted to, just like I’ve done before.” It’s true: Bop may have been nervous, but he wasn’t nervous enough to stop. He knows full well that Bing would never judge him for passing on a trick. He would’ve passed on skating the handrail if he’d known it lead to this, but at the time, he hadn’t wanted to. “How much did Doc chew you out for this one?” Bop asks, trying to bring some humor into the conversation. Bing laughs wetly, wiping his face as his tears start to diminish.

“Not at all, actually,” Bing admits, “I guess he figured I was suffering enough.” He pauses, biting his lip. “Dark let me have it, though. He was pissed. Yeah, I know,” he responds to Bop’s confused look, “I guess he can’t, like, subjugate us properly or whatever if we all crack our heads open and die. I think he would’ve yeeted me right into the void for a while if Doc and Ollie hadn’t vouched for me learning my lesson.”

“Is Ollie doing alright?” Bop asks. He remembers the third voice he heard when he first woke up.

“Yeah, maybe a little better than me,” Bing says, “Since he’s got his bros and everything. He’s…really been a godsend this past week. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.” He sits up to look at Bop. “Even with Ollie, I don’t know…” He swallows, near tears again. “I don’t know how I’d live without you.”

At that, Bop can’t not cup Bing’s face in his hands and kiss him, gentle and slow. Bing kisses back just as softly, hugging Bop to his chest like he’s a security teddy bear.

“I’ll be okay,” Bop murmurs after they break apart. “I already feel better than yesterday, and figments heal fast, right?” He smiles, then pauses thoughtfully. “Doc told me I have a side shave now, I guess ‘cause he had to get my hair out of the way for surgery?”

“Yo, that’s sick, dude,” Bing says, “Once you get your bandages off you gotta, like, do something really cool with it! It can be like a thing.”

“Oh man, I don’t know,” Bop laughs, “That might be a bit much for me. But I guess I’ll see how it looks. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”

“Yeah, your bandages cover everything. But I bet it’s cute.” Bing smiles. “You’re always cute.”

Bop laughs as Bing kisses his cheek. He hums when Bing kisses his lips like before, quiet and comforting.

[xukunstellation]

Stuck || Xiao Gui

Title: Stuck Pairing: Reader x Xiao Gui Genre: EnemiestoLovers!AU + College!AU + fluff Word Count: 2397 Summary: During a game of truth or dare, you find yourself stuck in a closet with the person you hate the most: Xiao Gui. Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and claustrophobia

A/N: My first Xiao Gui fic! It’s taken me way too long to write for him. I love this little bub so much. Please continue to shower him with love and affection, ty. The request originally only asked to be an enemies to lovers au, but I put my own spin on it and made it into a college au as well (which I’m modeling after American standards bc that’s all I know lol). This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so far on the blog, so definitely putting it all under the cut. Happy reading!

“Come on, (y/n)! Live a little!” your friend Zhou Rui begged you through the phone.

You were casually chilling in your dorm room hoping to finally get some relaxation time after a long day of classes. While you did manage to catch an hour or so to nap, your plans for peace were thrown away the moment your best friend Zhou Rui called you in order to convince you to go to this college party being held by one of his friends later tonight.

“You already know I’m not much of a party person,” you whined.

“It’s still better than whatever you choose to spend your Friday nights. You’re always cooped up in your room!”

“There’s nothing wrong with binge watching my favorite drama!”

You can virtually imagine him rolling his eyes at you. “It’s college, kid. You can afford to give up one Friday to have some fun. I’ll be there with you the entire time,” he reasoned.

Knowing how persistent he could be, you sighed in defeat. You guessed he was right. This week was packed with assignments, so you barely had any time for any kind of enjoyment. Maybe a party would be good for you.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you grumbled.

“Good thing you have me as your best friend in the entire world,” he sung, hanging up the phone shortly after.

As soon as you ended the call, there was a knock on your door. Rolling out of your bed, you opened the door to find none other than Zhou Rui standing there with a triumphant grin. He casually waltzed into your room and straight to your closet in order to cultivate an outfit for you.

“I’m pretty sure I can come up with something that doesn’t make you look like a bum.”

“Wow, rude. Best friend in the entire world, my ass.”

“It’s all love, kid.”

In little to no time, Zhou Rui easily managed to match a couple of your clothing items to make a bomb outfit. Not that you had any doubt that he would. The male was a fashion model for a reason.

After the both of you were ready, the two of your trekked over to whatever fraternity house the party was being held. It was slightly difficult to figure out which house it was considering all of the fraternities were hosting parties to kick start the weekend. Thankfully, Zhou Rui is pretty smart so the two of you made it to the party within good time.

As you watched Zhou Rui bro hug the host of the party (a popular senior named Qin Fen who was graduating this year), you scanned around the crowded room to see if you could spot any other familiar faces. In the middle of the mass of dancing bodies, you saw Cai Xukun who you shared your 10 am class with. Not too far from him was Wang Ziyi who was DJing the music for the party. Near the alcohol table, you recognized the one chugging a beer keg as Lin Yanjun (oh god, you prayed for his liver). In the corner of the room, you spotted your good friend Zhu Xingjie and his friend Zhou Yanchen.

And that’s when you spotted the devil incarnate himself.

Wang Linkai. Better known as Xiao Gui.

He was standing behind Xingjie and Yanchen so you barely noticed he was there. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to look in your direction. The two of you made heated eye contact as you glared at each other. Then, Xiao Gui proceeded to mockingly blow you a giant kiss, smacking his lips obnoxiously loud. With a look of disgust, you pretended to catch his ‘kiss’ and overexaggeratedly smacked it on your ass, causing Xingjie and Yanchen to snicker at Xiao Gui who glared harder from the burn you gave him.

You rolled your eyes and made your way through the crowd to try and find your best friend. You spotted him chatting with his friend Qin Zimo, a classmate you’ve met a few times who you remembered as being quite sweet, so you were surprised to see him at a party like this. Apologizing to Zimo, you dragged Zhou Rui away.

“Rui! You didn’t tell me that he’d be here!” you huffed angrily.

“Tell you who would be here?” he asked in confusion.

You nudged your head sharply to the left. Zhou Rui followed the direction until he saw where Xiao Gui and his friends were standing. He groaned loudly.

“Seriously? Xiao Gui?” he looked at you unimpressed.

“Duh, who else?”

He shook his head and responded, “I didn’t know he’d be here. Just ignore him.”

“How can I ignore him when he’s over there just... just...”

“Just what?”

“Breathing!”

The male deadpanned. “You sound ridiculous, you know that? What’s the deal between you two anyway? The two of you hate each other’s guts for seemingly no reason.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a frown pulling at your lips. “He’s the one that started it. The little prick is always finding ways to mess around with me and get on my nerves. He’s a huge jerk and I won’t stand for it,” you spat.

Zhou Rui gave you a thoughtful look and reasoned, “Why don’t you give the guy a chance? From what I heard from Xingjie, he’s actually not a bad person, so I’m not sure why he acts that way around you. I’m not saying you two have to be buddy-buddy or anything, but it would be nice to have you guys not try and kill each other every time you both are in the same room.”

“Me and Xiao Gui? Getting along?” you asked in pure disbelief. “Like that would ever happen. Not in a million years.”

At this point, Zhou Rui looked defeated, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get through your stubborn self. Throwing an arm around you, he began leading you away to the other room. “Let’s go, grumpy cat. I think a game of truth or dare can make you feel better.”

The game was already in progress but no one seemed to care that you joined in midway. A few rounds in, you did feel slightly better as you laughed at all of the absurd things people were dared to do. Some guy had to call a Chinese take out place and ask if they served sushi. Another guy had to brag on weibo about how much his “milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard.” One girl was dared to depict a human life through interpretive dance (she was also very drunk, so it was an entire mess). 

Much to your displeasure, you noticed Xiao Gui and his crew join in the game. Luckily, he sat all the way across from where you did. You tried your best to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you. Eventually, it was your turn to play and the asker coincidentally was Zhou Rui.

“Truth or dare, (y/n)?”

You debated in your mind for a bit before replying bravely, “Dare.”

However, you regretted your choice the moment you saw the shit-eating grin that appeared on his face. 

“I dare you to be locked in a closet with Xiao Gui for the remainder of the game.”

The entire room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles at his words. Your mouth dropped open in disbelief, immediately looking towards Xiao Gui who looked a mixture between smug and pissed off. 

Vowing to get revenge on Zhou Rui later, you mentally cursed at him before stomping your way into the nearby closet that was held open, not even waiting for Xiao Gui to follow you. A minute later, the male joined you in the closet. Without a second to waste, the closet door was slammed shut along with the tiny ‘click’ signalling that you were officially locked in with your worst enemy.

Fumbling around in the dark, you hovered your hands in the air near the walls to try and see if you could find a light switch. Unfortunately, the light switch was outside of the room. Stepping to the side, you bumped into a hard chest and stumbled back a little before being caught with an arm around your waist to steady you.

“Easy there, tiger. You want to be all over me that badly?”“ Xiao Gui questioned teasingly.

“Piss off,” you snapped.

You were quick to step away from him, his arm falling to rest by his side. Carefully, you slowly backed up to a wall and slid down to the floor tiredly. You heard shuffling and guessed that Xiao Gui had done the same across from you.

“I can’t believe I’m locked in here with you,” you grumbled to yourself.

You heard him scoff, “Last time I checked you’re the main reason we’re in this shit to begin with.”

“Trust me. The last thing I would ever want to do is be stuck with you. Now shut up.”

“You were the one who started talking to me first, idiot.”

“Then, stop talking to me. This’ll go by a lot faster if we pretended like we aren’t sharing the same air.”

It was silent after that except for the sounds of drunk cheering and muted music being muffled through the thick closet door. There was light breathing coming from across from you. Looks like Xiao Gui decided to utilize his time by taking a nap. Aside from that, everything in the closet was pitch black, You couldn’t see anything at all. Neither of you had your phones (Zhou Rui made sure to take them from both of you), so you didn’t know how much time was passing and you had no idea when the game would end. 

You sat there quietly as you tried to distract the uneasiness that began to rise in your stomach. As far as you knew, you didn’t really have a fear of tight spaces. But there was something about not being able to see or move much that started to negatively affect you. Gripping your hands into fists, you pulled your knees up into a fetal position.

“Xiao Gui...?” you called out quietly. Seeing that he was asleep, he didn’t hear you at all. Mustering up your courage, you called out to him louder.

“Xiao Gui!”

The said male groaned in annoyance from being awakened. “First, you tell me to stop talking to you. Then, you proceed to wake me up to talk. What the hell do you want?” he complained.

“Do you think they’ll let us out soon?” you asked softly.

“How am I supposed to know? I’m just as clueless as you are,” he answered before continuing with a mocking tone, “Why? Is little (y/n) scared of the dark?”

“...”

“...(Y/n)?”

You refused to answer him. To tell the truth, you were indeed afraid but you didn’t want to admit it to him. He wouldn’t let you hear the end of it and you don’t need that kind of torment right now. As the silence grew louder, so did the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Your body was shaking at this point.

You almost screamed in fear when you felt movement next to you, only for you to realize midway that it was Xiao Gui who was now sitting beside you. He  proceeded to wrap his left arm around you and pull you tightly to his side. This was the closest you had ever been to him. He smelled of clean linen with a hint of citrus. It was a calming scent that put you slightly more at ease along with the comfort of feeling something warm around you.

“What are you doing?” you meekly said, not used to this kind of behavior coming from Xiao Gui of all people.

“It’s obvious that you’re afraid. I’m not going to sit around in silence and watch you have an entire breakdown,” he said. 

His voice was surprisingly soothing and low, as if he was avoiding trying to scare you any further. You felt the presence of his hand linger in front of your face for a little before gently pressing it your cheek and wiping away a stray tear from your eye. You hadn’t realized you were crying. 

You turned your head in his direction and wondered out loud, “But why? You don’t even like me.”

“I actually like you a lot.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your worst enemy likes you? As in actually having feelings for you? 

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why are you always acting as if you hate my guts?” you questioned.

The darkness of the closet disguised the longing look in Xiao Gui’s eyes. “That’s a good question. I didn’t mean to be like this. When I first realized I liked you, I was completely confused as to how to deal with these feelings. I’ve never liked someone like this before. I panicked, so my reaction was to act like a jerk in order to get your attention. Unfortunately, that plan backfired on me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He chuckled sadly, “Yeah, I deserved that one. When we get out of here, you can go back to ignoring me. I won’t bother you anymore now that I know you practically despise me.”

You didn’t realize it yourself but your body had subconsciously leaned on Xiao Gui’s shoulder the entire time he was talking. There was something about the gentle way that he held you and was talking to you that made you feel comfortable and most importantly... safe. In his arms, you felt safe. 

“You know... you could have just came up and talked to me. I would have given you a chance,” you stated matter-of-factly.

He seemed to think this over before replying, “Well... I’m talking to you now. Is that offer still available?”

You hummed in response, “Take me on a few dates and we’ll see from there.”

The sound of the door unlocking reached your ears, followed by the blinding colors of fluorescent lights as the door opened. There were more wolf whistles and cheering from behind Zhou Rui, who stood at the door with an I-told-you-so face. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and exited the closet with Xiao Gui’s arm slung over your shoulder. You had a feeling you’d be stuck with him for much longer than you think.

[1989dreamer]

Twice Brewed

Summary:  Derek is, by nature, a very anxious person. Because of this, his sister has enlisted the services of his roommate, Isaac, to help him navigate the larger obstacles in his life. Who knew an overly flirtatious barista would be one of those obstacles?

Posted on AO3 here.

--

Isaac was sitting upside down on the couch, trying to count the ceiling tiles before the blood rushing to his head made him too dizzy. He was on number 252 when the apartment door flew open and his roommate stomped inside.

“Hey, Derek,” he greeted, grinning widely at the scowling man.

“Isaac,” Derek said, flicking his eyes over over Isaac’s body quickly, “what are you doing?” He set his backpack down beside the door, turning to lock it. Fastidious was Derek’s middle name. At least, according to Isaac’s observations.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Isaac turned so he could prop his head on a hand while he let the rest of his body slide onto the cushions. “You’re home early. I thought you were gonna stake out that coffee shop and finish your economics paper?”

“I was.” Derek lifted Isaac’s feet and slid underneath them. He sighed as he leaned his head back. “I got halfway through but when I went to get a refill, the new barista was there.”

“The one who refuses to give you straight black coffee?” Isaac wriggled his feet until Derek took the hint and started rubbing them. “What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything.” He did something if Derek is home nearly three hours earlier than Isaac was expecting him. “Well, actually he said, ‘This’ll put hair on your chest.’ And then he gave me the sweetest, most disgusting thing on their drink menu. I can still taste it!”

Isaac grimaced in sympathy. While Derek was prone to binge on sweet treats every now and again, his body had retaliated with Type 1 Diabetes. Something that sweet would definitely have had an effect on him. “Maybe you should just tell him you can’t have something like that.”

“I did! He fixed it by pouring more sugar in the cup. His coworker yelled at him.”

“Well, that makes it a little better, right?”

Derek shook his head. He buried his face in his arms, crossed over Isaac’s legs. “He gave me his number,” he mumbled. “And his coworker encouraged it.”

“What?” Isaac exclaimed. He sat up, pulling his legs from Derek’s lap. “What?” he repeated. “Seriously? The barista that tried to poison you gave you his number? Why?” Isaac has a suspicion, though, and if Laura were here too, she’d probably share it with him.

Derek shrugged. He wasn’t prone to imagining attraction for himself. In fact, until Isaac had moved in, the only mirror was in the bathroom and existed solely for shaving purposes. “His coworker seemed amused enough though.”

“Forget his coworker. What I want to know is: why is that barista still allowed to work there if he insults and endangers patrons?” Derek ducked his head, going back to covering his face, a sure sign he was blushing. “You didn’t tell them about your diabetes?”

“No.”

Another thing about Derek? He was intensely private. Isaac only knew about the diabetes because of Laura, Derek’s meddlesome older sister who had paid Isaac’s first month’s rent just to get him to move in with her moody brother. Turns out, Laura had no reason to worry as Derek took his insulin regularly (i.e.: when he needed to) and never ate anything that should remotely make his blood sugar spike randomly. Until he met this barista.

Now, the barista would not give Derek the drink he could consume and seemed dead set on poisoning (or at least, sickening) him.

Apparently, it was only because the barista was attracted to Derek.

“I can never go back,” Derek declared suddenly. He threw his hands up and waved them sort of jazz-hand-like only if the jazz had been melodic instead of peppy. Then he stood up from the couch and grabbed his bag, digging out his laptop. He dropped back onto the couch, the laptop balanced on his knees while it booted up. Shitty Internet connection would have to work to submit his paper (a week early too).

Isaac sighed at his martyrdom. “Just explain to the knucklehead why you can’t drink his flirtatious concoctions and be done with it,” he advised.

“‘Flirtatious’?” Derek paused in opening his document, and Isaac shrugged.

“I’d assume that’s why he gave you his number today,” he said.

“But,” Derek said, frowning. His brows drew low over his eyes before sharply climbing to his hairline. “He likes me? And he’s showing it by trying to kill me?” Isaac nodded. “What do I do if he escalates?” Before Isaac could respond, Derek started hyperventilating. “Oh, God, he’s trying to kill me,” he moaned, burying his face in his hands. “I can never, ever, ever set foot in there again.”

Isaac sighed. “Listen, all you have to do is talk to the guy. What’s his name?”

“Stiles,” Derek said, eyebrows wriggling down his face to settle over his eyes again. “What kind of a name is ‘Stiles’?”

Isaac shrugged. “Maybe it’s a nickname, kinda like how Laura’s always calling you everything under the sun but your real name?”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek conceded. “Come with me?”

Isaac rolled his eyes so hard he was afraid they’d pop out and squish on the floor. But, he sighed. “Yeah, I’ll go with you.” Because Isaac was a fantastic friend, and also he had no compunction about telling off the barista from hell.

“We’ll go when you finish your paper. That way all we have to do is talk to him.”

--

Upon walking into Twice Brewed, Once Served, Isaac narrowed his eyes at the line of three baristas. He immediately disregarded the perky girl with black cat ears stuck to her head. That left two men. One of which, tousled dark curls and a slightly uneven jaw line, was staring lovelorn at the cat-eared girl while the other, a mole-speckled, pasty-looking fellow, glared sullenly down at the dregs of a mug.

“Stiles!” Isaac shouted, ignoring the way Derek froze behind him. He was probably blinking hard and wishing he weren’t here right now. Well, in about a minute, Stiles would wish he wasn’t here either. The sullen gazer jerked his head up and stared wide-eyed at them.

“Yes?” he said, uncertainly. Isaac approached the counter, marching purposefully. He let his hand trail behind so that it smacked into Derek every few steps just to make sure the bastard was following. Isaac wasn’t doing this for himself, after all.

“Hi, yes,” he said when he came to a full stop. Derek brushed against his back before stepping to the side. “It’s come to my attention that you are refusing to properly prepare customer orders.”

“And who exactly are you?” Stiles asked with a suspicious tone.

“I’m a concerned party. Are you trying to poison my...client by ignoring his specific dietary needs?”

Stiles snorted. “What dietary needs? He’s in a freaking coffee shop. There’s no better way to drink it than doctored up.”

“What about diabetes?” Isaac demanded. “Have you thought about that? Your store offers free Wi-Fi and coffee made the way the customer wants. So, why do you, and you alone, Stiles, insist on screwing up my client’s coffee?”

“Is that your client?” Stiles asked smugly, nodding at Derek. “Look, he’s in a coffee shop, people get everything but coffee.”

“So I guess that makes it okay for you to ignore the fact that he can’t have anything but straight, black coffee because you know better, is that it?”

“What?” Stiles said eloquently.

“Dude,” Uneven Jaw laughed, “I told you to stop fucking with his order and just ask him out.”

“So you think this is funny too?” Isaac demanded. He felt Derek tugging at his sleeve, and when he glanced at him, he was surprised to see him almost in tears.

Uneven Jaw blinked, his friendly face falling into a scowl.

“Can we just go?” Derek asked in a small voice. “I think this is turning out worse than I imagined and I’d really like to go home now.”

“Do you need me to call Laura?” Isaac asked. Every once in a while, Derek got shaky and teary and the only way to calm him down was for Laura to do a spa day with him. Since Derek was in the middle of his midterms right now, Isaac figured a day off with his sister might hurt worse.

Derek shook his head. “Just, let’s go, please?”

“Can you tell me why you won’t drink my concoctions?” Stiles demanded, and Isaac shot him a murderous glare.

“Did you listen to me at all?” Isaac asked coldly.

The girl with cat ears gasped loudly. “He’s diabetic!”

“Gold star,” Isaac said with his icy tone. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

At least three other people in line followed them out.

The last thing Isaac heard before the door actuated shut was Uneven Jaw berating Stiles for endangering a customer.

--

Life went on, as it always did. Derek stayed home more, tapping papers out at a steady pace while Isaac kept going to class and doing his papers when they were due and not a month ahead of time. Laura did thank him for getting the barista off Derek’s back—after she dragged the story out of a reluctant Derek—but Isaac told her it was probably more due to the fact that Derek hadn’t been to a coffee shop in weeks.

And then, after his Media Relations in Television Studies class, Isaac ran into Uneven Jaw on campus.

“Hey, man,” Uneven Jaw said, clapping Isaac on the shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, good,” Isaac said. “How’s life for you?”

“It’s good, it’s good.” Uneven Jaw scratched at his chin before offering his hand to Isaac to shake. Isaac ignored it. “Look, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for how Stiles was treating your friend. If I’d known that what he was doing was so bothersome, I would have stopped him sooner.”

“Look,” Isaac started and then stopped and stared at Uneven Jaw until his eyes brightened and he said, “Scott.”

“Scott,” Isaac repeated. “Honestly, I don’t care about your token apologies. It was obvious, even to an outsider, that Derek was uncomfortable being approached by Stiles, especially in the manner he conducted himself. You encouraged him to seek Derek out and make overtly flirtatious gestures toward him. It was only after you realized that not only was he making Derek supremely uncomfortable, but Stiles was also endangering him, that you did more to dissuade his behavior.”

Scott blinked. “Dude,” he said, “Stiles got fired over that. I got demoted. Hell, my hours were cut.” He looked down at his shoes, scuffing a toe against the crack in the sidewalk. “Look, all we want to do is apologize to Derek, but we never see him on campus or anywhere.”

“Maybe that has more to do with the fact that Derek doesn’t want to see you,” Isaac said. “I’ll pass on the message, but if Derek still says no to meeting with you so you can apologize face to face to him, then you’ll have to let it go and chalk it up to one of life’s lessons.”

“Deal,” Scott said, grasping Isaac’s hand before he could pull it away and pumping it a few times. Then he traipsed off, phone out and chirping as he typed one-thumbed to presumably Stiles.

Isaac sighed in irritation. He hoped Derek wouldn’t want to meet his tormentors just so he could tell them to fuck off for good.

Unfortunately, when he returned to the apartment, he found Derek sitting on the couch, bare feet on the coffee table while Laura painted his toes a pretty shade of green that matched his eyes.

Ugh. Next, she would want to do his.

“So,” he said, slowly, slipping off his jacket to hang up, giving the Hales time to ignore him. When he turned around, both Laura and Derek were staring at him in interest. “I ran into Scott today,” he finished, plopping onto the couch next to Derek and jostling him with his shoulder.

Derek’s face shuttered and he pulled his feet away from Laura.

“What?” she asked. “What am I missing?”

“Scott is the other barista,” Isaac explained. “The one that has apparently decided he wants to apologize to Derek’s face.”

“What?” Laura asked again. “Why? Is that ‘Stiles’ supposed to be there too?”

“That’s the plan.” Isaac eyed Derek. He was pale, shaking and hugging his arms around his knees. “I told him to leave it alone if you still weren’t ready to accept their apologies.”

“I think this means he’s more than not ready, don’t you?” Laura asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. She swept her arm out and indicated Derek’s whole being. “If just a mention of those fucking idiots is enough to do this, what will actually meeting them be like?”

“I think I should though,” Derek mumbled. Laura did a double-take. Derek shrugged. “I’ve been talking to the campus counselor. She thinks I’m letting my anxiety rule my life.”

Isaac did not say anything although he wanted to. From the look on Laura’s face, she appeared to be fighting the same urge.

Derek stared down at his hands. “I know,” he said quietly, cheeks coloring. “I know, okay? I am...I need to put myself out there and do something. I can’t just spend the rest of my life hiding behind people willing to fight for me.” He clenched his hands into fists before opening them. “I’ll meet with Scott and Stiles and tell them I don’t want or need their apologies. I’ll do it myself.” He looked up, and Isaac saw the determination warring with uncertainty in his eyes. “But, would one of you come with me?”

“I’ll do it,” Isaac volunteered. He knew, if Laura was there, not only would Derek be unable to say what he wanted, but the dunderheads would be in actual danger. If Fastidious was Derek’s middle name, Hothead-Fists-of-Fury was Laura’s.

Laura glared at him and Derek shot him a look of thanks.

Isaac shrugged. What were friends for if not to bolster and support?

--

Isaac and Derek were hanging out in the library, Isaac working on his Media Relations paper while Derek typed at his six papers equally.

“How do you not get your ideas all jumbled?” Isaac questioned as Derek flipped from a book on Spanish linguistics to one on child psychology.

“I have a little box inside my head that lets me compartmentalize,” Derek said without looking up from where he was painstakingly copying down the information contained on the page. The only indication that he was joking was the way the corner of his mouth lifted after a few seconds.

Isaac grumbled without heat and went back to outlining the basic niceties journalists needed to exhibit when on the job.

They worked in near silence, the only sounds either laptop keyboards clacking or the scratch of Derek’s pen as he organized his notes.

Suddenly, Isaac’s stomach rumbled. Derek smothered his grin as he finished his thought and closed his book, a piece of receipt paper marking his page.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Ready to eat, you mean,” Isaac corrected. He saved his document a few more times before he closed it and ejected his flash drive. Then, he packed his laptop away. Despite having far more materials spread out, Derek was packed up at the same time as Isaac.

Before they could leave though, someone shouted, “Wait!”

As one Derek and Isaac whirled to stare at where a red-faced Stiles was climbing the stairs. In one hand, he balanced a tray of disposable cups, the other clutched his phone.

“Look,” he huffed when he reached them, “I’m sorry to sneak up on you like this, but Scott texted me that you were here. I know I was supposed to wait for you to get back to him with Derek’s answer, but I-I really need to say my piece.”

Automatically, Derek stepped back, letting Isaac shield him. “Speak quickly,” Isaac said.

Stiles looked relieved. He handed the tray of cups to Isaac. “They’re all black.” He glanced at Derek and then focused his attention on Isaac. “They’re apology coffees. For Derek. If he wants them.”

“I don’t,” Derek muttered, but he accepted the tray all the same, staring down at the cups with concealed intrigue.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you,” Stiles said. “I truly am. I’ve been told that I am overbearing with my affection, but that is no excuse for not listening to you or respecting your wishes.” Stiles pulled out a chair and fell into it dramatically (or so Isaac thought). He grabbed Derek’s hand, briefly tracing the lines across his palm before letting him tug away. “I’ve hurt you, I could have harmed you, and I want you to know that I truly am sorry for that.”

Derek murmured, “It’s okay,” at the same time that Isaac said, “I’m glad you got fired.”

“What?” Stiles blinked at him.’

“You heard me,” Isaac said, coldly. “You’re not apologizing because you really want Derek’s forgiveness. You’re seeking absolution for your guilt. Assuaging it by apologizing arbitrarily. What you say means nothing to you if it means you can get Derek to forgive you.” He turned to Derek and stabbed a finger at his chest. “And don’t think I didn’t hear you say that. ‘It’s okay’? No,” he shook his head, “it’s not okay. What if you had drank Stiles’ stupid love drinks?” He gestured at the coffee and Derek set the tray on the table, wiping his hands on his pants. “At the very least, you would have become moderately ill. At the worst…”

Isaac had seen Derek once when he had high blood sugar. Laura thankfully had been there and able to administer a dose of insulin. The other, just as frightening side of it, Isaac hadn’t had to experience, but from what Laura told him, it was terrifying too and was also why she didn’t let Derek live alone anymore in spite of her brother’s protests.

“At worst what?” Stiles asked.

“Look,” Derek said, quietly, “how much sugar you put in the coffees I ordered from you would have been enough to throw my blood sugar out of whack. I have Type 1 diabetes, which means that my body doesn’t produce enough insulin. If I ingest too much, I could go into a diabetic coma.”

At Stiles’ shocked face, Derek hurried to add, “I’m not usually in any danger of that.”

“But I could have killed you,” Stiles murmured. He stood up and grabbed Derek’s hands. “I am a terrible person. I refused to listen to you because you were cute and I wanted to date you.”

Isaac gave Derek an I-told-you-so look when his friend glanced at him. Stiles seemed unaware of their exchange and continued, “The least that could be done to me is my being fired. I could have put you in the hospital or worse, killed you. I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are taken care of the way you want to be.”

“Does that include leaving me alone if I want that?”

Stiles dropped Derek’s hands, stepping back and nodding frantically. “If you want me to, then you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You made me uncomfortable,” Derek said. “You never gave me what I ordered. You have little constraint and did not follow the wishes of either my friends or me. How can I trust you now? What makes today more special than all the times I visited your coffee shop?”

Stiles shrugged. “I can’t make you believe me, and I’m not going to try. That’s going to have to be good enough.”

Better, Isaac thought, was if Stiles could just fuck off entirely instead of standing there, scuffing his foot on the worn carpet while Derek flushed and stared down at his own feet.

“Okay,” Isaac said, not loudly, but both Stiles and Derek jumped. “You’ve said your piece. Now leave. I’m hungry and Derek promised me food. You’re not invited.”

“I didn’t think I was,” Stiles said, maybe a little angrily. He softened his glare and turned back to Derek. “I am sorry for how I’ve treated you and I wish you the best. Have a nice life.”

He scurried away, leaving Derek staring mournfully after him.

“No,” Isaac said. “No. Derek, don’t do it.”

“Don’t do what?” Derek asked, innocently.

“I know that face.” Isaac stabbed his finger at him. “That is the face of a man who knows he shouldn’t forgive his tormentor and yet already has. No. Let him go. If you run into him without either Laura or me and you still want to give him a second chance that one, you’re not obligated to give him and two, that he hasn’t yet earned, then by all means, go ahead. But, I ask you to wait, think it over. Truly evaluate why you would ever talk to him again. And then, if you still decide you want to be with someone who won’t listen to your concerns or take your health into consideration, then go ahead. All I ask is that you not involve me in your future endeavors.”

“Fine, okay. I won’t talk to him.” Derek’s face still said he wanted to chase after Stiles, and Isaac scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I won’t stop you,” he said again. “Now, I really would like to go eat something.”

--

Isaac was in the middle of a conversation with his friend (or sort of friend) Boyd discussing the upcoming test in their shared biology course when Scott and Stiles approached.

“Can you please tell my stupid friend to leave your friend alone?” Scott pleaded.

Isaac glared at Stiles, slowly dragging his eyes up and down his lackluster baggy plaid shirt and untucked t-shirt with ripped jeans and dirty sneakers. “No,” he said to Scott. “Tell him yourself. I’m not in charge of Derek’s emotions. Just his health. As long as Stiles doesn’t endanger that again, I’m okay with Derek following his heart. Even if his brain is being stupid about it.”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. Boyd snickered.

“He’s insulting both of you,” he said. “If Derek is still interested after the shit you pulled, especially with his crippling anxiety, then more power to him. But, if he suffers under your watch, you can bet your skinny ass you’ll be held accountable.”

“I don’t know you,” Stiles said.

“And hopefully you never have to,” Isaac said pointedly. He shoved Boyd toward the student center where they were meeting Derek and Erica, Boyd’s girlfriend, for a quick study session. “Don’t follow,” he threw over his shoulder.

“What if we were going this way anyway?” Stiles shot back.

Isaac shrugged. “Can’t stop you.” Nor would he want to. He’s already spent more time embroiled in this Stiles-drama than he ever wanted.

So Scott and Stiles followed them to their meeting. Could be worse, Isaac decided. They could be talking or Laura could still be visiting. Well lookit there, Laura sipping on a cappuccino, sitting next to Derek.

“Laura,” Boyd said, mischievously.

Isaac leaned over to Scott and whispered, “If you want to live, run now.”

“Boyd?”

“I want you to meet some classmates of ours.” He pointed to Scott and Stiles in turn. “This is Scott McCall, he’s in my Intro to Lit class, and this is Stiles Stilinski, former barista at Twice Brewed, Once Served.”

Laura’s head snapped up and she pinned Stiles with a truly frightening glare. Derek grabbed her arm and forced her back into her seat.

“Stop it,” he said, annoyed. “He apologized. Multiple times. We’re okay now.”

Laura growled, but when Derek made to pack up his books, she subsided. “If you’re sure.”

“Look,” Scott said, “it was nice to meet you, but we really need to get to our own study session.”

He tried to pull Stiles away, but Stiles shook him off. “Listen, I don’t care that you all hate me. Hell, I hate myself most of the time. Especially for how I treated Derek. All I want is the chance to show you that I won’t do it again. Derek is willing.”

Laura eyed him coldly. “What Derek wants to do is independent of what the rest of us do. Just because you’ve somehow made up to my little brother, it doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to forgive you.”

“Fair enough, but stop acting like I’ve actually killed him.”

“You could have!” Laura yelled. “And the fact that you keep badgering Derek means that you’ve haven’t truly grasped it.” Quieter, she said, “I almost lost my brother because of you. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that. I’d appreciate it if you never tried to justify yourself to me again. I’ll respect Derek’s decision, whatever he chooses, because I love and trust him.”

Stiles looked at all of them, studying each face until he came to Derek, who, Isaac noticed, was staring at his book, shaking. Laura noticed at the same time and reached out to brush her fingers along his arm. Derek relaxed enough to blindly reach for her hand.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled softly. “I don’t want you to hate me too.”

“I don’t. I won’t,” Laura reassured him.

Isaac tapped Scott’s shoulder. “Now would be a good time to go,” he said, nodding at Stiles. Surreptitiously, Erica slid Derek’s phone from his bag and flipped it open.

“Is she deleting my number?” Stiles asked as Scott led him away.

“Probably,” Scott replied. “It’s for the best. Give them time. I’m sure you’ll still see him around. Let him come to you, Stiles. Sometimes pushing isn’t always the best method.”

“I really fucked up, didn’t I?” And then they were down the stairs and gone away.

Isaac turned back to their group. Laura and Derek were embracing while Boyd and Erica had their heads together over an open book. Isaac settled into the seat next to Derek and took his phone from Erica.

She hadn’t actually deleted Stiles’ number, just added the word ‘wait’ after his name.

“It’s still your choice,” he said, handing it to Derek. “But we all think it would be a good idea to think about what you want from Stiles and how to ask it from him.”

Derek closed his fingers around the phone. “How do I know when it’s right?” he asked.

Boyd answered, “You just will.” He tapped Derek’s hand. “It might be tomorrow or it might be in two years, but you’ll know when it’s right. Don’t settle for anything that makes you uncomfortable and definitely don’t settle for being pressured.” Boyd glanced at all of them pointedly before adding, “Even if that pressure is coming from your friends and family.”

“I think I understand,” Derek said, staring down at his book. He slid his phone back into his bag.

After a few minutes of watching him silently, the rest of them started working again too.

--

Every so often, Isaac would see Stiles or Scott around campus. Usually, if they saw him, they’d walk away. Once or twice, Isaac could see Stiles staring longingly at Derek, who, slowly but surely, was starting to incorporate actual human interaction into his life.

The beginning of Finals Week, the dining hall hosted a late night breakfast, and Derek, in the middle of one of his studying binges, dragged Isaac out of bed to it. Probably because Erica had brought Boyd and they were studying for their final on Wednesday.

The dining hall was crowded, and it took a fair bit of maneuvering to reach the tiny table Erica had staked out.

Unfortunately, Stiles and Scott had also decided to seek late night nourishment and had decided that no other table than Erica’s would suffice. (In all likelihood, they had arrived late, and there were no other open spots.)

Derek set his things down with a thump that was barely heard over the dull roar of people talking with their mouths full.

“I’m getting an omelet,” he announced and marched away.

“Me too,” Isaac muttered and made to follow but Erica gripped his wrist.

“Stiles has a question,” she said.

“I do?” Stiles looked up from his stack of pancakes. “Oh, yeah, I do. So, I’ve been talking to Derek when we cross paths. I want to ask him on a date again, but I don’t know if he’s ready yet.”

“Everyone is ready at different times,” Boyd said sagely. “Eat your pancakes and don’t ask us. Ask Derek when he gets back. If he says no, respect that decision.”

“For what it’s worth,” Isaac said, “I think Derek is trying for you. He’s putting himself into situations where he’s usually not because of his anxiety. I don’t mean to give you false hope or a reason to badger him more. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Stiles confirmed. Derek set his plate down by Erica’s elbow and reached for her Calculus book.

“You’d better hurry, they’re closing the line soon.”

“Tell me one thing,” Stiles said to Derek as he dropped into the seat between Isaac and Erica.

Derek grunted, already flipping the book open.

“Once we’re done with finals, do you wanna catch a movie or something?”

Derek froze. “A movie? Like, a date?”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed. “Is that something you’d like to do?”

“After finals?”

Isaac noticed that Derek’s hand, clenched on his leg was shaking, and he reached out to grip it.

“Can I think about it?” Will the offer be rescinded was what he meant. Isaac was there when Jennifer, the TA for their Modern Literature class, asked Derek on a date the first week of class and then took away the offer when Derek just stared at her. Since then, she had been frosty toward both Isaac and Derek, but that could have been more because Laura threatened to go to the President to get her expelled if she ever tried something like that again.

“Yeah, totally,” Stiles said. In the same breath, he turned to Scott and asked, “Want a pancake?” And that was the end of it. No ridiculing Derek for wanting to take time, no pressing for him to accept right away. Isaac frowned down at where he was still holding Derek’s hand. It was endearing of Stiles, and that made Isaac uncomfortable.

“So, we’re agreed that Harris sucks dick and that it’s unlikely anyone is getting a good grade,” Stiles was in the middle of saying when Derek dropped a folded napkin on Stiles’ plate and hurriedly left the dining hall with a red face.

It wasn’t his usual form of anxiety, and Isaac was torn between going after him and trying to explain Derek’s actions to Stiles’ shocked face.

Boyd calmly reached across the table and plucked the napkin off Stiles’ plate, unfolding it and showing Stiles that it was Derek’s phone number.

“Must have made a good impression,” he concluded, letting Stiles take the napkin. Isaac rolled his eyes at the sappy, happy look that crossed Stiles’ face.

They definitely deserve each other, he thought. And it didn’t seem to be as bad as he’d thought it could be.

He won’t tell them that.

They might think he actually cared.

~ The End ~

[sporks-and-stars]

tips for people going into oral surgery

I recently had surgery to remove two teeth from my mouth and one that never formed roots from my gums, and it was sort of an interesting experience that I wanted to share in case anybody else is as terrified as I was.

The first thing they do is take you into a room with you, your ride home, and your oral surgeon to discuss what they're going to do. They're very clear about what's going to happen. If what they're saying doesn't line up with what you think was supposed to happen, tell them, because mine didn't -- they were going to remove four teeth, I thought they were only pulling two, and we had to get consent from my orthodontics place for the updated procedure. You'll have to sign off on a permission form. If you have any other questions or concerns, ask them now.

Depending on the order you do things, this might happen first, but at some point, they'll hook up a few things to you. There are three sensors that will stick to your stomach and chest, a little disc that sticks above your collarbone to monitor your breathing, a heart rate monitor that clips to your finger, and a blood pressure cuff. There's nothing at this point that's going to stick into you, and no tubes that will go down your throat. They're just putting the sensors on to check that they work; you're not going into surgery right away. They might adjust some things.

They'll turn the machine off and give you a bonnet; put all your hair in it. You'll look like a dork. Your ride home will probably take blackmail photos.

Your ride home and the surgeon who explained things will leave at this point. You might have to wait a bit, but soon enough, someone else will come in. They'll start the sensors up again (the machine will beep; it does so consistently) and tell you to lean back. She'll lean the chair back and then put you on laughing gas. It's a mask that only covers your nose. She'll ask you pretty frequently if the dosage is okay. I was lightheaded and it seemed hard to get enough air in my lungs. I told her, and she brought it down a few notches. Your limbs will feel pretty heavy. You'll be relaxed. If you're anything like me, though, you won't spill all your darkest secrets. Laughing gas calms you down rather than opens you up. One thing laughing gas does is make you feel like the room is spinning back and forth very slowly. It's not really noticeable until you look up at the ceiling tiles and see they're rotating a little.

An assistant will come in at this point, and they'll walk you through a couple things. The first surgeon will tell you to breathe (inhale, exhale); they'll probably keep doing that a few times while you're awake. Your laughing gas mask stays on through the entire procedure, I'm pretty sure.

Your main surgeon should come in at this point. You'll probably recognize him from any consults you might have had or from the orthodontics place you go to. They'll greet you and carry on conversation -- how's summer going, any vacations, excited for school to start up again -- while they mess with a couple things that are out of your range of vision. I'd expressed concerns about the IV, so they numbed my arm beforehand. They put it in at the crook of my right arm, and I barely felt it. No, really. This isn't some mindless reassurance that it won't hurt; I actually barely noticed it. I told them and they laughed.

They'll probably start pumping the sedative in at this point, but it took longer to kick in for me than I think it would have for a lot of people. I was awake when they put the numbing gel on my gums (very minty, very strong) and I was also awake when they gave me the novocaine shots, one on each side of my mouth. They hurt more than the IV did because my gums were so sensitive, but chances are you'll be unconscious by now anyway.

The sedative took a while to kick in, but it hit pretty hard when it did. Everybody seemed glowy and bright and everything was hazy and a little bit dizzying (probably because I wasn't wearing my glasses). I was out for the half-hour the procedure took, and the next thing I remember is someone helping me into a wheelchair with a bunch of gauze in my mouth.

I was dazed and out-of-it when they wheeled me to the recovery room, which is kind of like an elementary school nurse's office, to be frank. It was dark and there were cots lining the walls. I slept for about half an hour. This is the point, actually, that you're most likely to spill your darkest secrets, but what's said in the recovery room stays in the recovery room. She helped me into the wheelchair again after a while, replaced the gauze in my mouth, and handed me a reusable icepack, and then she wheeled me out to the main hall.

My mom was waiting, and my dad was pulling the car up to the curb outside. They helped me into the car (it's hard to walk, let me tell you) and I reclined the seat. You'll be sent home with a prescription for a painkiller, a pack of gauze squares, and some ice. I slept for the 20 minutes it took to get home and then binge-watched Marvel movies for the rest of the day.

They put two stitches in my gums. The stitches would dissolve on their own in a week or so, but if they came out, that was fine. I was told to ice my gums when I got home, half an hour on and half an hour off.

Your gums will be swollen and painful. If your instructions say '400mg painkiller every four hours', it's been four hours, and you're not really hurting, take it anyway. Keep taking it every 4-6 hours until your gums aren't swollen anymore, which will be a few days. Depending on the medication, it might be okay to take an extra pill at the end of the day to get you through the night. I wasn't in too much pain during the day, so I wasn't taking full doses, and I upped my dose when I went to bed.

I was allowed to eat when I got home, but I was bleeding for a while, so I didn't. Don't eat bread until day two or three after the surgery. Stick to yogurt, ice cream, pudding, and mashed potatoes for the first day or two, then add in eggs and white bread (NOT whole grain). You should be back to normal eating in a week or two. I have to chew with my front teeth because they removed my back ones, and this'll be an adjustment I have to make.

Good luck!