#i mean he meant it in a 'kids these days wear their headphones too much and that means this book is irl going to happen because of it'

[little-klng]

Hey did anyone else have a teacher who badly misinterpreted the messages of a classic book they were trying to teach? I had a teacher in highschool who had us read Fahrenheit 451 and when we got to the part where the main characters wife was shown to constantly be wearing headphones and drowning out most of her life, he made a huge fuss in making us interpret that as being exactly the same as us teens wearing our headphones all the time and it still lives in my head rent free

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Castiel Imagine: Winchester!Reader falling asleep on him in the Impala

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader, Younger Winchester Reader

He couldn’t safely teleport anymore since his disobedience, and he was bound to the earthly means of transportation ever since. Dean joked that he looked like a kid in the backseat when he joined you there, you had stuck your head out and jokingly asked which of them was the Mom then. That set off an interesting discussion on the topic, but you whispered to him that Sam was clearly the Mom. Castiel had frowned and curiously gazed at your brothers at that.

Sharing a backseat with you meant a lot of things, it meant that when you hit a part in your book that you particularly liked you would turn to him with a smile and tell him about it. It meant that sometimes you stopped looking out the window with your headphones in to give him an earpiece so he could listen to it as well. You then would return to look outside and rest your head on your knees while he sat still and looked on straight as always. It meant that you would always hand him a bit of your snacks on the drive, despite him explaining to you that he didn’t need food to survive. At some point he just took what you gave him and ate it with his usual stoic expression.

You were very insistent on treating him as their own.

He didn’t know why, but you seemed to care about his opinion on things that he really didn’t know much about. Like politics, or the clothes you were wearing that day. He squinted and tried to find something to say in those moments, „They look.. functional enough.“ He had said after a few moments, „Functionality is associated with comfort right?“ You slightly tilted your head, „I guess, yeah. You ask like you don’t know what comfortability feels like.“ He blinked, „If I can move around that should suffice.“ You somehow concluded from that that he needed a set of ‚lazy day clothes‘, whatever that meant.

This time it was raining heavily, you hardly went forward since Dean couldn’t drive as fast as he usually would in the storm, and he wouldn’t stop complaining about it too.

You had put your book down a while ago as it seemed to become harder and harder for you to stay awake. Increasingly uncomfortable with sitting for hours you had pulled your legs in and shifted a bit more towards him in that notion.

Castiel sat still as always, when his eyes suddenly shifted to the side when he felt a weight on his shoulder. He blinked, swallowing thickly when he felt your face nestle further into his clothes as sleep fully took over you. Your weight must have shifted to eventually sink fully to where he was seated. You were warm, and your lips parted with the soft, steady breathing of slumber.

It was like were suddenly a ton of signals and sensations going on in his form- he usually never got this close to anyone unless it was in combat. But you took over all his senses at once and he didn’t know what to do. Your scent mixed with the smell of rain that streamed in through the small crack of the window you left open. Your warm breath fanned over him, your knee brushed against his thigh.

It was rude to wake up humans when they slept, he learned that through plenty of pillows thrown at his face by Dean so.. so he should just let you be, right? He gazed at the book in your lap, still weakly held onto by your hand. He carefully reached out to untangle your hand from it before it fell down and woke you up, but once his hand brushed against yours your fingers twitched upwards to cover his.

It was so natural for humans to hold each other, their forms completed each other perfectly, like hands. And it came so intuitively to them that even in your sleep you felt and sensed another hand and got closer to it with your own, with the smallest movements your state of sleep allowed you to.

You always treated him like you were equal, and even if he didn’t take as much harm in a situation as a human might you were the first to advocate for his safety. Were you simply.. fooled by his human form? His gaze dropped, the thought somehow caused him disappointment.

Sam and Dean had gotten quiet, both of them had noticed the scene.

„Can I tell you something?“ Dean made eye contact with him through the mirror, both of them agreed. „Sometimes I think Y/n doesn’t understand I‘m not a human.“ Castiel said, quiet as not to wake you. Sam raised his brows and turned a bit in his seat to look at him.

„I don’t think so. I think.. they just don’t know how to show their affection ‚angel like‘. Humans show each other that they like them in different ways, but part of it is meeting the needs of the other human or getting close to them, you know?“ Castiel frowned, „I don’t.“

„Well you don’t need to eat or something like that, and Y/n knows that.“ Dean said, „But they don’t want to exclude you from the group, and they don’t know how else to show affection but the human way.“ He said and shrugged. „They don’t want you to feel left out just cause you don’t need what we do.“

Castiel looked at you again. You.. liked him? You wanted him to feel belonging? He had never expressed that he felt uncomfortable, and sometimes he did feel.. disconnected. Piloting this body around. trying effortlessly to understand and relate to the references and behaviors that came with being Human. The jokes, the conclusions you all seemed to come to simply because you were the same species and family.

He never talked about it, but you assumed or understood it anyway.

Castiel bit his lip and his eyes flicked from your face to your hands, and he carefully intertwined them with you more. Maybe he could show you appreciation by mimicking and reciprocating some of what you were doing. It felt.. like he was doing it right. It felt right, and not only in a technical way.

Hm.

[featherlesswings]

I turned 39 today, and I’m feeling like I should share some wisdom.

Be silly. Don’t let the brain worms win: you are allowed to be silly and enjoy yourself. Probably nobody will laugh maliciously, if you’re not still in school, but if they do - that’s on them. They are jealous that you are free.

Wear what makes you happy (as long as it’s weather appropriate and covers what’s necessary for the venue.) Don’t let yourself get stuck in a “same outfit every day because if I change my style, someone will NOTICE and they will SAY SO,” loop. Also don’t let the old rules about these bodies being allowed to wear this kind of clothes and those bodies under no circumstances being allowed to wear that kind of clothes rule your life. Wear. What. You. Like. The worst that can happen is someone will be rude (and that just means they’re not worthy of your awesomeness,) and the best thing that can happen is someone who IS stuck in the old rules will see you looking amazing in the body you have, and think, “oh, I can do that too!”

Likewise with hair. If you’re not in some situation that restricts what your hair looks like, like a religion or a branch of military or some fancy office job where they have super strict dress codes : don’t be afraid to try something daring with your hair. Dye it the color you’ve always dreamed of. Grow it long, if you want. Cut it short, and discover your real face. If you wear your hair in a ponytail all day every day because you don’t like it to be down, but you’re afraid it won’t look good short : just get it cut! You can ask a stylist what they think would look good on you. It grows back, and it’s just hair! Hair is like fingernails. It’s not that big a deal.

Jump in puddles! Preferably with rain boots on, because I’m terrified of nematodes, but barefoot every once in a while is okay too. Doesn’t matter your age. Especially if you have kids, jump in puddles with them! I made one of the best friends I’ve ever had because she saw me jumping in puddles with my babies.

Trust your own instincts. Even if your whole life, you’ve been told not to believe what you see, not to trust your own mind. If something feels wrong, act accordingly. Don’t let the rules of polite society keep you from protecting yourself or pulling out of an uncomfortable situation. Trust yourself.

If you can, if it’s available to you, take care of your mental health. Whether it be therapy, meds, reading texts about similar experiences, meditation, whatever. Praying doesn’t count, I’m sorry.

Ask for help. If you have social anxiety or feel yourself getting overstimulated or know your own limits - tell a friend, ask them to help. I’m terrified of restaurants with overhead menu boards. My husband knows what I like, so when it’s too much, I have him order something he thinks I would enjoy. Don’t be ashamed to look up specifics online before you go somewhere you’re unfamiliar with, so you can have a plan.

Before making a decision that makes a big impact on your future, think about the long term. Don’t get a pet or conceive a child on a whim.

Tell your friends you love them, often. Show them, in whatever way is your way.

You will lose friends, over the years. It’s going to be okay. Some people are only meant to share a part of your life, not see it to the end.

If it’s available to you, get out in nature from time to time. Unplugged. This one is hard for me, because I’ve got to have headphones stimulating my brain all the time, but it’s important to let your mind loose from time to time, and being outside and being quiet can help with that.

Eat before you go shopping. Sounds simple, but it will save you money and frustration. Trust me. Honestly, eat before you leave home whenever possible, unless you’re going out to eat.

I know most Gen Z and Alpha folks already have this worked out, but you do not owe the world your immediate assimilation into the 1950s cardboard cutout life. My young women & AFABs : you do not have to get married and start having kids to be taken seriously as an adult. Those of you raised evangelical will know exactly what I mean. Take your time exploring who you are, who you want to be, and what you want out of life, before tying yourself to someone who might ask you to make yourself smaller and put aside your dreams to make room for theirs.

Do art! Even if it’s bad! Especially if it’s bad! Draw on envelopes & napkins! Get cheap paints and go wild! Water color sets & watercolor paper are not expensive. Doesn’t matter if it’s dollar store stuff, or even thrift store craft supplies. Make something with glitter. It doesn’t have to be something someone would buy. Art for the fun of making art, in my opinion, is just as important as moving your body every day if you can.

I will end with my favorite quote from Space Mom, may she rest in moonlight.

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do and eventually the confidence will follow.”

- Carrie Fisher

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Prompt 4 with Tony and Bruce for the dialog prompts part 2 please

It just has potential

oh it so does. it's so them

prompt: “I’m not doing that.” “Why?” “People might talk to me.” (from this list)

Read Changing Things Around here on ao3

~~~

Tony had never been happier. Bruce taking the offer to move into the Tower and utilize his lab was like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place. 

Having another person in his space felt right. They didn’t even really work together for the most part. Tony had always worked alone, but sharing his space, knowing another brilliant mind was in the room, was a breath of fresh air. 

Still, he sometimes forgot Bruce was there. Having not worked around another person in so long meant he was used to doing things a certain way. 

Like blasting rock music far too loud, and letting every surface get cluttered to the point he had to clean just so he could find that one wrench he needed to finish tuning up the Iron Man suit. 

Which Bruce, bless his soul, tolerated up to a point. He kept his own space tidy, making sure that everything got put away exactly where it needed to go. He never told Tony to turn down his music, but he took to wearing headphones when Tony really cranked up the volume. 

After a few months of cohabitating, it almost seemed like they were rubbing off on each other. Tony seemed to keep his tools in some kind of order, even if it only made sense to him, and Bruce joined in on singing along to the music he knew.  

It was a good thing for the both of them. 

Even Pepper seemed to notice the change. She thought Bruce was good for Tony. 

Hence the reason she was trying to convince the both of them to go to a conference in San Francisco. 

“Pepper, please,” Tony begged. “Why do I have to go?”

“Because you’re the biggest contributor to the program, and you should show interest in the work of up and coming tech geniuses. Bruce, come on, you can come too. Maybe show off some of your own work as a guest speaker.”

“I’m not doing that,” the man said, not even looking up at her. 

“Why not?” she asked. 

Finally, he dragged his head up to meet her gaze. “Because people might talk to me.”

Her lips pursed, and she inhaled sharply. “It’ll be good for both of you to get out of the lab,” she argued. “It’s only a weekend.”

“Pepperpot, my darling, please don’t make us do this. I’m not kidding when I say I’d rather go to board meetings for an entire day,” Tony told her. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Be honest with me, what would it take to actually get you to go to a conference?”

“A lot,” he said flatly. 

“What about a guest lecture at MIT? You always like supporting the students at your old school.”

“Could we turn it into an old-fashioned science fair? Like the ones we had when we were kids?”

Bruce nodded with him. “I like that idea. We could be judges, that would really get us involved.”

“But wouldn’t people talk to you?” Pepper asked, mimicking what he said earlier. 

“Sure, but it’s different when it’s college kids who are passionate about their fields. The San Francisco thing is going to be rich people who have never done anything for themselves in their lives because it’s easier to hire someone to do it sucking up to us because it would be an ‘advantageous opportunity’,” Bruce emphasized with air quotes. “I would much rather talk to college kids,” he shrugged, going back to working on his project. 

Tony raised an eyebrow at her, and Pepper knew she had lost. “Fine. I’ll go see what I can do to make that happen. We’re still talking about San Francisco later,” she said, glaring at him. 

“No we’re not.”

“Not even if it means getting to spite Justin Hammer?”

Tony hated that she knew him so well. “One day?”

“Two.”

“Thirty-six hours and I will build you anything you want.”

“Deal. How do you feel about redoing my entire kitchen?”

“Like it would be my honor, Ms. Potts.”

“Good. Do you think you could make an automated teapot? Like your coffee maker, but for tea?”

“I’m sure I could figure something out.”

“I’ll help,” Bruce chimed in. “I could use one of those myself.”

“Excellent. Pack your bags and be on the jet as soon as possible. I expect you to start on my kitchen the second you’re back in New York.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked about out of the lab. 

They watched her until she was out of sight, and when she was, they both let out a long sigh. 

“She scares me,” Bruce said, making a face.

“Right? Why do you think I hired her?” Tony asked. “No one else could do her job quite so effectively. Having her take over as CEO was the single best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Clearly. However, I don’t want her to come back here to yell at us, so you need to go pack. I’ll get a head start on the tea maker.”

“I honestly don’t know why I hadn’t thought to make one for her before. It would have been the perfect birthday gift for her last year.”

“Well, we’re doing it now, and that’s what’s important. Seriously, get out of here. I don’t want to see her angry.”

“And that means something coming from you, Jolly Green Giant. Don’t have too much fun without me, you hear?”

Bruce just waved him off, but Tony grinned. Having someone else around was a definite improvement.

[harryspet]

sweet sister | peter parker

[Warnings] dark peter parker x innocent reader, reader is extremely innocent, manipulation, male/female masturbation, somnophilia, stepcest, hj, vaginal sex but not really? 

A/N: This is based off a request I got for a innocent reader where Peter teachers her about sex. Reader is 18 and Peter is around 21. DARK THEMES SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which you’re May and Happy’s foster kid and Peter takes advantage of your innocence. 

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 2.9k

You came home from school like it was a normal day. Walking up the steps to your family’s brownstone, clad in your school uniform, and loud music blaring in your headphones, “May!” You shouted too loudly, walking down the hallway towards the kitchen, “Did my package come?”

You stopped in your tracks as you saw three figures standing in the living room. Happy, May, and … some kid you didn’t know. Your eyebrows raised in confusion at the young man standing with your foster parents. 

“Y/N, this is my son Peter!” May smiled, trying not to be awkward. She approached you, urging you forward. Now you recognized him and your eyes widened because of how easily you missed it. He was in all the photos on the mantle but, now, he looked a bit older. 

You were not what Peter expected, at all. By May’s description of you, he thought you might be a middle schooler. His eyes trailed over you, the way you filled out your uniform … Peter snapped out of it, moving forward to hold out his hand to you.

“Hi, I’m-” Interrupting him and surprising him at the same time, you went in for a hug. Peter hesitated for a moment before hugging you back. You noticed he had a strong grip. 

“She’s a hugger,” You heard May whisper. 

You pulled away and offered your hand for him to shake. He took it, smiling, but still a little confused by the long greeting, “I’m Y/N. You look just like May! I mean, you’re very pretty like her.” Happy always went on about how pretty May was and you always agreed. 

You watched as his cheeks reddened. Was it something you said? ''Thank you very much, I haven’t heard that one before.”

You looked back at May who seemed to improve the interaction. You smiled, worrying that you had made him nervous, “Peter finally has a break from his busy schedule to come see us. He’ll be here with us for at least a week. May and I thought this would be a good time for you two to get to know each other.” 

May had taken you in two years ago but this was the first time you were officially meeting Peter. He was always halfway around the world fighting crime and could only stop at May’s work every once and awhile. You never thought you’d ever have a full family like all the people on the television did. 

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” You heard Peter say and your heart did a little backflip. Your very own big brother.  “What’s this about a package?” 

“Oh,” Your face fell, “Uhm, they’re just books.”

Peter gave you a look of inquiry, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “You like to read? What kind of books?”

You opened your mouth to make up some excuse but Happy interrupted you, “I put your package on your bed, sweetheart. Why don’t you show Peter his new room?” Right, you had taken Peter’s old room. 

“Okay!” You perked back up, glad the subject of books was over, “Follow me, big brother!”

That was easy, Peter thought. She didn’t seem to give a second thought about accepting him which was endearing but scared Peter to a certain extent. How trusting was she exactly? May had warned him that she was a little eccentric … and a little emotional. 

Peter tried to keep his focus up as he followed you up the stairs. A part of him was a little let down that you were wearing shorts beneath your plaid skirt. 

“May says you have like a sixth sense. And that you can sense when danger is near. She talks about you a lot, you know? You call it a Peter tingle, right? I thought that was a really cute name but I’m not supposed to bring it up around you apparently-” You were rambling, as usual, and had passed your bedroom but you noticed that Peter wasn’t following you anymore. 

“You made it pink,” You heard Peter say as he peeked into your room. He adjusted the black backpack on his shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice his muscles. He was like the boys you read about in your books but … he was technically your stepbrother. 

You walked toward him, “May said I could decorate it how I wanted. Do you hate it? You hate it, don’t you? I’m really sorry. It’s just that it’s my favorite color and-”

“No way, I like it!” He quickly assured you, not wanting to see what happened when you finally ran out of air. Peter walked inside and you followed him. There was no twin bed anymore but a regular-sized bed with a white canopy. 

There was a pile of stuffed animals in the corner that Peter noted, “You have a lot of stuffed animals …”

“Those are the ones they give you in family court,” You explained to him before pointing over to your bed, “I keep the ones Happy and May give me on the bed, those are my favorite.”

“I see,” You spoke so casually about being in family court that it made Peter wonder what your story was. There were at least ten stuffed animals there, “Which one’s your favorite?”

You liked that question, smiling wide, as you walked over to your bed. Peter watched you carefully as you bent over to grab a gray penguin, “I like penguins a lot. My first Christmas here, May got me this and a penguin puzzle. I’ve done it a million times now but we could put it together if you wanted.”

“I can’t imagine anything better, Y/N.”

You were going to be very fun to get to know, Peter thought. 

+

The family had gone out to dinner that night and had been the rest of the evening putting together a hundred piece, penguin puzzle. It was one of the best days of your life and, as you expected, having a family was wonderful. Having Peter was just an extra bonus. You wished he didn’t have to leave. 

The next day, as you walked down the steps that lead from your school, you didn’t expect to find Peter waiting for you. You ran up to him and hugged him, of course, and you savored the moment when his strong arms were around you. Some girls you didn’t know gasped and practically swooned as they watched you two. 

“I have strict orders to take you straight home so you can start right away on your homework,” You frowned until Peter continued, “But I think we should stop for ice cream.”

You were practically bouncing with excitement as Peter grabbed your hand and lead you down the street. 

At the small parlor, you licked at a cone of chocolate ice cream while Peter stuck his spoon into his ice cream sundae. Peter’s eyes wandered over to your mouth, imagining your wrap your lips around his-

“You never said what you liked to read, Y/N.”

You blushed, your nose wrinkling, as the embarrassment filled you, “It’s silly … you don’t want to hear about it.”

“I do,” Peter insisted, “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

You took a breath, “They’re … they’re romance novels. It’s a series one of my friends at school told me about. She thinks I’m too … too babyish. Apparently, there are scenes in it ... “

“Scenes like what?” You blushed even more. 

“Bad scenes,” you whispered and Peter pretended to think the subject was taboo, “She wants me to learn about … dirty stuff. These guys are taking us to prom and she wants … she wants us to have our ‘first times’ together. I don’t even know what that means! But I can’t tell her that or she’ll think I’m even weirder than I already am to her.”

Buried treasure. Peter had stumbled upon pure gold.

“Y/N, you’re talking about sex?” Peter narrowed his eyes at you. 

“Sex?” You spoke the word like it was completely foreign on your tongue, “I think that’s it. Sounds gross, right?”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s kinda gross if you think about it too deeply but it’s not meant to be gross. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s quite beautiful, actually.”

Her eyes went wide, “You’ve done it a bunch, haven’t you?”

Peter shrugged, “A few times but only with special people. If the guy who’s taking you to prom isn’t special then you definitely shouldn’t give him your first time.” Peter would have to do some research on this guy and make sure he didn’t even think about coming near her. 

You looked solemnly at your melting ice cream, “I must be a total weirdo then …”

“You’re not, Y/N, trust me. Eighteen is still young.”

You leaned forward, whispering, “I haven’t even kissed anyone, Peter. People do that in middle school.”

Peter leaned forward next, entrancing you with his eyes, “Do you really want to get some experience? Because … I could help you. I’m probably better than those trashy books.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Do brothers and sisters normally talk about stuff like this?”

“Don’t you want to be friends too?” You instantly nodded, “Then I can help you out, as a brother and a friend. But if you want to read your books-”

“No, no, you can teach me!”

And you easily stepped into his trap. 

+

That night, Peter slipped out of his room clad in his pajamas. Your door slowly creaked open and you sat up in your bed. You rubbed the tired from your eyes as Peter peaked in, “My room is freezing … and I can hear Happy snoring through the walls.”

You pulled back your comforter, patting the spot next to you, “You can sleep in here with me,” Peter entered all the way before slowly shutting the door. 

“Really? I can sleep on the floor …” 

You shook your head, “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Peter moved in the darkness, climbing in beside you. You pulled the covers over him and you both lay down. Peter watched as you turned over before tiredly murmuring, “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Peter waited a good hour before moving closer to you. In a slow movement, he had pressed himself against you, taking in the scent of your hair, as he admired the lines of your body. It was a risk but he touched your waist, his hands trailing over to your stomach. He felt the soft skin of your back as well before reaching into his pants. 

He touched himself to the thought of you and he almost panicked as you moved. You turned to your other side, not facing him. Watching your sleeping face sent Peter over the edge and he muffled his grunts with a pillow. 

He wasn’t in your bed when you awoke the next morning. 

+

Happy had surprised May with a romantic dinner that night so Peter and you were left alone that evening. You were brushing your teeth in your jack and jill bathroom when Peter walked in suddenly. You looked over to see him only wearing a pair of basketball shorts. 

You blushed, looking back at the mirror before spitting out the foam in your mouth. He stalked closer to you and you noticed something different in the look in his eyes, “I was thinking something, Y/N, about what you told me at the ice cream shop.”

You put away your toothbrush, turning off the sink before wiping your mouth with a hand towel, “I thought you had forgotten …” 

Peter smirked, “Far from it, actually. I was thinking about how you said you want more experience. With kissing boys and things like that, right?”

You nodded slowly, growing nervous. 

“I think the first thing you should learn is how to pleasure yourself before you learn about pleasuring someone else,” He held your hand, rubbing soothing circles into your palm. 

“Pleasure?”

Peter nodded, “Sex is all about pleasure,” Peter held your hand it slowly brought it against his crotch. You felt something hard and flinched away, “It’s okay, don’t worry.” 

It was such a weird feeling. Only recently had you learned that boys and girls even had different parts. 

“Right here is where guys can feel pleasure,” Then Peter reached out to touch you. Through the fabric of pajama pants, you could feel his fingers brush against your folds, “This is where girl’s feel pleasure. Let me show you.”

He assured you that everything was going to be okay as he slid down your shorts. Before you could step out of them, Peter swiftly lifted you onto the counter and you yelped at the sudden movement. 

He took your hand and pressed your fingers against your crotch. He tried to guide you as best as he could, standing between your spread legs, “Oh my stars …” You breathed out, savoring the foreign new feeling. You wanted to run away from it and run to it at the same time. You looked at Peter with frightened eyes as he slowly moved his hands away.

“That’s it, good girl, keep rubbing,” He praised you, loving the sight of you discovering your own body. You kept going, rubbing circles over that sensitive area through your light pink panties. You leaned back, lifting a leg on the counter, so you could get a better angle.

“Is this good Peter?”

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Doesn’t that feel good?”

You nodded, practically whimpering. You looked at Peter differently than before, you didn’t see the boy you saw before. You thought about how handsome he was and how sweet he’s been to you all week. You felt the wetness growing beneath your legs and you blushed as you look down, “Peter, I-I  think I’m peeing …”

Peter gave you an amused smile, “That just means that you like it, Y/N. That you’re aroused,” Peter grabbed your hand and moved it away from your crotch. You found yourself missing the feeling and you watched as he slid off his pants and underwear. The sight of his manhood felt foreign but aroused you at the same time. 

Peter slowly palmed his manhood as he leaned into you. You practically froze as his lips touched yours. He didn’t even have to speak because as he slowly left soft pecks on your lips, you started to lean back into him. Your hands touched his neck as you started to move your lips against his. You liked it … No, you loved it, “Your lips feel squishy,” You gushed and Peter laughed, turning his head as the kiss became more passionate. 

You let your leg fall back over the counter and, as it did, Peter slowly slid off your underwear. Then suddenly, he lifted you. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you into your room. He sat on your bed, leading you to straddle him. 

“I want to try something,” Peter said before pecking your lips again. 

You were all in. 

He laid back on your bed, and you sat on his legs, “Touch my cock,” You thought the word was silly but you could tell what he meant. It felt harder than you expected and as you gripped it on your hand, a guttural moan exploded from Peter, “Spit on it.”

“Peter-”

“It’s okay, it’ll feel better that way,” He tried to assure you and you hesitated before pulling your hair back. The trail of spit fell onto his member and you felt gross for a moment until you saw his reaction. 

That sound he was making you even wetter. 

Peter grabbed your legs, pulling you up more until your private parts were positioned right over his, “I want you to rub yourself against me, can you do that?” Peter asked. With all his fantasies coming true, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last. 

You nodded. You held onto Peter’s chest as you slowly dragged your private parts against his. His cock was pressed against his stomach and your lips moved up and down his length. You felt it then. That pleasure and his pleasure mixing. You kept going, starting to feel something building up in your core. 

You bit down on your lips, liking the feeling of when his tip rubbed against your sensitive bulb. Your wetness acting as even more lubrication, you thought you were making quite the mess but Peter didn’t seem to mind. 

You moved faster, Peter’s groans encouraging you and your curiosity of that thing building up inside you kept you going. Your toes curled as you got the feeling of a waterfall rushing off a cliff. Your mind went blank for a moment and your body shook as that damn finally broke. 

You moaned, riding out the feeling and that's' when you felt Peter convulsing. You felt his cock twitch as white spilled from the tip of his member and onto his stomach. Peter’s head rested all the way back and you couldn’t help but smile as you realized that you had both reached your tipping points. 

“Well, was that it? Did I do sex?”

“Sort of,” Peter said, completely out of breath. The eagerness in your eyes wasn’t something he expected, “You have a lot more to learn, Y/N.”

“Then can we do it again, Peter?”

+

Hope you enjoyed this! Feel free to check out my masterlist for more Peter fics! There is a short sequel to this! 

PART TWO

[ushiwakaout]

Things I believe Bokuto Koutaru (timeskip: pro MSBY volleyball athlete ) would say if you lived together (from the moment you wake up, to the moment you fall asleep).

university art teacher! reader

warning: mild swearing? bad spelling :)

request are open: here

“MMm five more minutes.” (5:40 am)

“But baby~*whine* I’m tired”

“Stop trying to uncuddle me please.”

“Nooooooooo~ get back here.”

“Baby *pout* now I’m cold”

“Baby if you don’t come back here and cuddle me, I will die.”

“I will die on our bed, right here, right now.”

“Is that what you want? Alright. Fine!”

“Ugh- Y/n... I don’t feel so good... I think I actually might be dying. Gran, gran? Is that you? I’m coming gran gran!”

*fake dies w/ tongue out*

“Wow okay, so you wouldn’t cuddle me even if it meant you’d save me, alright, I see how it is.”

“Nope, no. I don’t want your kisses anymore, shoo~ go shower stinky.”

“Baby wait, come back, you didn’t give a good morning kiss.”

“Mmm, you’re kisses are the best... Now shoo~ you’re presence is bother me.”

“DON’T USE UP ALL THE HOT WATER, I’M ALWAYS FREEZING!”

“You know what- Stop screaming in the shower, it’s too early.”

“What? It’s not like I haven’t seen you nakey before.”

“Move you’re sweet ass over.”

“You’re s’tiny”

*Small fem section so if you don’t identify, you can ignore*

“You’re boobies looks so small compared to my hands.”

“Wait, look, look *begins to coddle your chest* see, they look so cute.”

“Ow! What are you hitting me for.”

“Let me just.... hold them.”

*End-Continue*

“How about I wash your hair and then you can wash mine, yeah?”

“What do you mean you’ll be late for work.”

“Five more minutes.”

“No, no, no. Not those jeans, those are the ones that make your ass look good.” (6:00 am)

“Now I won’t be able to pinch you’re cheeks all day.”

“Wear the other top, it matches with your skin tone.”

“Here while you where getting pretty I made you a [favorite flavor] protein shake.”

“I’ll walk with you to the station.”

“Give me your hand, I wanna hold your hand.”

“So small”

“What do you mean I have big hands, you’re just small.”

“Wait for me at the school, I have practice today so I can walk with you.”

“It’s no big deal, the gym is like 10 minutes away, just wait for me okay?”

“But I’ll let you know if I run late, most likely- I will run late.”

“Mmm give me a kiss before you go.”

“Another one.”

“Just one more.”

“If I kiss you some more you’ll miss your train.”

“Have a good day at work baby, just one more kiss.”

*you can’t tell me this mother fucker wouldn’t slap your ass the way he slaps a volleyball right before he leaves and just whistles as if HE DID NOTHING WRONG*

“Honey! I’ve brought lunch!” (1:00 pm)

“Oh- you’re with a student... I’ll be quiet now.”

“Finished? Good. I brought you a bento box made with love.”

“Well yeah bought with love, same thing.”

“Did you miss me, of course you did, right?”

“You only get your bento if you kiss me.”

“Mmm one more and i’ll think about it.”

*this man will full on start a makeout session with you but youre stomatch starts to growl and he just laughs at you*

“I also bought you [favorite drink], i’m the best boyfriend huh.”

“How’s work been? Good? That’s great baby.”

“Any new art pieces you’re working on.”

*you cannot tell me that this man would not some how get paint all over his hand and slap your ass after you walked by him while you show him the small exhibition of art you have*

“sorry, your ass just looked good.”

*he’s not sorry*

*you’d be showing him art and this man would touch you everywhere*

“Do have time for a quicky?”

“What do you mean not here? It’s not like we haven’t before”

“But baby~ you just look so good.”

“I can’t keep my hand off you.”

“Give me one more kiss before I leave.”

*one kiss my fucking ass. THIS MAN WILL PICK YOU UP, SIT YOUR ASS ON YOUR DESK AND KISS YOU SO HUNGRILY. It’s those types of makeout sessions where when you part a string of spit just connect the two of you*

*he will also grind on you, trying to get some sort of friction going on- but then the bell rings. You’re very quick to push him off.”

“I’ll see you later baby.” *softest forehead and nose kiss he’ll ever give you... he’s flustered you enough.*

*will not stop thinking about your little makeout session in the art room while he’s at practice and end up just abuse the shit out of a poor volleyball*

“Baby i’m back~” (6:40 pm)

*he had texted you that he would be late to picking you up but luckly you brought your headphones and started to work on a secret art piece of bokuto*

“Baby~”

“Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you- ARE YOU PAINTING NAUGHTY PICTURES OF ME?!”

“Do you need more reference? Yeah?”

“Does that mean we can have sex tonight?”

“OW! I’m kidding... Well, no I’m not.”

“Stop being so shy, let’s go get food.”

“I’m hungry again.”

*you arrive to the restaurant and he leaves you outside for like 5 minutes just to make sure they have the table you guys like sitting at and he comes back to a guy trying to hit on you*

“Hey, hey, hey man, back off- They aren’t interested.” (7:00 pm)

“You okay?”

“Baby I know you’re a tough cookie, i just wanna know if you’re okay?”

“Let’s go inside, our favorite table is open.”

“What do you mean I eat too much meat, that’s mean y/n”

“Here, try this, its nice and juicy.”

“Don’t be a pervert and open wide.”

*Bokuto is very serious about his meat*

“I want dessert now, lets go to the market that has those cakes you like.”

“Baby! Baby! We need to go now! I just stole this cake from a kids hand!”

“I DID IT FOR YOU! DON’T YELL AT ME!”

“They’re gonna know I avoided my taxes that one year! I’m gonna go to jail!”

“I won’t be able to play volleyball!

“Or eat meat!”

“Oh right, I wouldn’t be able to kiss you either.”

“No~ come here and give me a kiss. I committed a crime for you.”

“Let’s go home, I wanna eat this cake.”

“Home sweet home, time to eat cake :)” (8:10 pm)

“Sit on my lap and eat this cake with me.”

“You fell so good on my lap.”

“My lap is your throne now.”

“No take backsies.”

“Oh hold on, I think Akaashi is calling me.”

“No, no, no, where do you think you’re going.”

*this man will make you coddle him like a koala so he can get up and get his phone just to sit back down with you on his lap*

*this is when Bokuto is most quiet is when he’s listening to Akaashi complain about something because he knows he need’s to let it out somehow.*

*He will start grazing his fingertips against your skin, kiss your fingertips, kiss your shoulder, neck, cheek. If you nuzzle into his neck he’ll start playing with your hair or the back of your neck.*

“Baby did you fall asleep?” (9:10 pm)

“I didn’t mean to wake you, you can go back to sleep now.”

*he will take off your jeans and put you in one os his shirts before tucking you in. will leave your socks on bc you have cold feet*

*he will also shower because believe it or not, this man does not smell when he sweats, you’d think he’d smell like ham or something but no... he legit has no smell- it’s weirder that way*

*when he come out of the shower he ends up waking you up again*

“Baby, can you cuddle me tonight.”

“You’re so warm baby.”

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Sleep well baby.”

extras:

“I do not fart in my sleep! Stop lying!”

“Why am I so beefy? Because I eat beef.”

“Atsumu get away from my baby. Sakusa! Attack!”

“The boys are coming over?! WHY DIDN”T YOU TELL ME?! Did i leave my undies in the shower?!”

“Big boobs? Chile anyways.”

“PUT YA MASK ON! PUT YA- Oop I don’t even have mine on right... anywho.”

“Look I took a video of y/n while they where sleeping, they started drooling.”

“Yes it was gross but i couldn’t move, look how cute she looks.”

“LOOK BABY! I painted an owl! Good ain’t it!”

“What do you mean I can’t have meat?! That should be illegal.”

“sawarasenai kimi wa shojo na no. boku wa yarichin bicchi no osu dayo- OH! You’re home! You didn’t hear that did you?!

[berrynarrybanana]

Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles​ for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice! 

Word Count: 11.9 k 

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry 

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol) 

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV 

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed. 

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.” 

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.” 

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.” 

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.” 

“Great.” 

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily. 

College was not supposed to be like this. 

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all. 

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack. 

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.” 

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks. 

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!” 

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.” 

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.” 

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.” 

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself. 

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake. 

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor. 

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide. 

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?” 

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.” 

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?” 

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.” 

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.” 

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.” 

                                         🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?” 

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.” 

“Ah, I do understand then.” 

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row. 

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in. 

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground. 

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store. 

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!” 

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled. 

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button. 

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.” 

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around. 

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat. 

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!” 

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!” 

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery. 

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?” 

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.” 

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl. 

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head. 

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin. 

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles. 

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention. 

It was a trick that never failed. 

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern. 

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.” 

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. 

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal. 

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her. 

I hated being a man sometimes. 

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink. 

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.” 

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” 

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding. 

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.” 

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.” 

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter. 

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her. 

I was so totally fucked.

                                        🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?” 

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders. 

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here. 

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

 Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine. 

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room. 

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck. 

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs. 

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back. 

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.” 

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.” 

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me. 

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan. 

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?” 

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes. 

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.” 

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.” 

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent. 

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t. 

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum. 

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

                                        🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV 

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes. 

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water. 

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets. 

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door. 

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone. 

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little. 

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.” 

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile. 

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes. 

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked. 

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded. 

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed. 

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window. 

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out. 

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?” 

“Yes, please.” I nodded. 

I could take my makeup off in my sleep. 

I’d done it before, actually. 

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. 

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together. 

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-” 

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin. 

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

                                         🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV 

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone. 

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine. 

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed. 

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me. 

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-” 

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.” 

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.” 

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.” 

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop. 

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

                                         🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV 

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head. 

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine. 

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.” 

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.” 

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?” 

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better. 

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered. 

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling. 

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.” 

Fuck being friends. 

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach. 

I was truly fucked.

                                           ⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV 

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it. 

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head. 

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him. 

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders. 

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped. 

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin. 

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine. 

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field. 

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms. 

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!” 

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips. 

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!” 

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me. 

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely. 

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. 

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.” 

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?” 

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment. 

I hated when he did stuff like that. 

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply. 

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down. 

“What happened?” she asked softly. 

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?” 

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

                                                        ⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off. 

I hated what I was doing to Piper. 

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear. 

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real. 

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut. 

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid. 

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat. 

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker. 

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves. 

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips. 

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled. 

                                                    ☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV 

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth. 

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked. 

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat. 

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it. 

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table. 

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El. 

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face. 

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.” 

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?” 

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.” 

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

                                           ❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house. 

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all. 

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either. 

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked. 

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head. 

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me. 

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would.  I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.” 

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect. 

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers. 

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips. 

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek. 

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles. 

“Snow.” I said softly. 

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine. 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

                                                 🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV 

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh. 

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.” 

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now. 

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves. 

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly. 

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod. 

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

                                               🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV 

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch. 

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep. 

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background. 

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.” 

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through. 

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head. 

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.” 

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core. 

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants. 

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.” 

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight. 

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly. 

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance. 

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?” 

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.” 

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit. 

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner. 

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles. 

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down. 

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?” 

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding. 

“I want that.” I whispered. 

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up. 

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt. 

This was all I ever needed. 

[novelconcepts]

24 and 10, just because I'm curious how these two could possibly be combined

confusing a handshake for a fist bump and lifting someone up out of excitement

She hasn’t seen Jamie in two years. Hard to believe that. Hard to imagine. Jamie was such a fixture of her life at Bly, such a steady lantern in the dark for all those months--late-night conversations, endless hands of cards dealt, what felt like half the Wingrave wine cellar drained dry between them--that Dani genuinely forgot what it was to not have Jamie in her world. Jamie, who had been there for a single summer, feeling like the sanest measure of her entire life.

And then Dani had moved on. Hadn’t had a choice. The job was for the summer, and Wingrave had decided to try his hand at fatherhood, of a kind. There was no place for an au pair any longer. And there were other roads, Dani sensed, calling her name.

She’d said goodbye, and it had hurt. Hannah, holding her close. Owen, sniffling back tears without apology. The kids, clutching her around the legs. 

Jamie, extending a hand. 

Jamie, who had so quickly become her best friend in all the world, extending a hand. 

She’d bumped it stupidly, her fingers curled into a fist to keep from properly touching Jamie’s skin. It hadn’t been intentional, exactly, though some part of her--red-faced and replaying the moment on a loop in the cab--thinks it might have been safer to lean into the mistake. If she’d taken Jamie’s hand, given it a firm shake, she’s not sure what would have followed. Not sure she would have been able to keep her balance, with her thumb braced along the backs of Jamie’s knuckles, with Jamie’s palm smooth against her own. 

Better to look stupid, she decided, in the long run. Anyway, their time together had lasted all of three months. Seasons come, seasons go, and Jamie would forget her soon enough. Surely. 

It’s been two years. Two years, and Henry Wingrave--cleverer than he’d looked, sneaking booze into his teacup at an awkward interview--had somehow found her address. The letter was neatly printed, an invitation: Miles’ thirteenth birthday, back at the manor. He hadn’t asked for much. They all missed her.

They all. 

She tells herself not to think about it on the flight over. Tells herself not to pick it apart, calling a cab. Tells herself, remembering with a stutter of mortification how her loose fist had jabbed Jamie’s outstretched fingers, they means very little. A kindness, she suspects. A polite phrasing. We all miss you, Miss Clayton, very much. 

Do you? she wonders, wringing her hands, gazing out at the once-familiar landscape. Do you all miss me? All of you?

As if one doesn’t matter just a little more than the rest.

As if she hasn’t been dreaming of one member of that little family more than she’s comfortable with. 

She hasn���t seen Jamie in two years, and she’s almost terrified to find out what might have happened to their too-easy, too-warm friendship in her absence. Jamie had not been an easy wall to crack open in the first place. She’d been tough and wiry at the start, with wary eyes and a short temper. Kind, yes, and easier to talk to than she’d had any right--but difficult, all the same. It had taken weeks for Dani to coax her into genuine conversation. A month before she’d believed Jamie truly did brighten, to see her coming through the door. 

Two years. How tall could those walls have grown by now? How heavy might the door barring her from Jamie’s life be, with all those months of silence stretched between them?

Why didn’t you write? she imagines Jamie saying, her mouth curled in a grim smile. Didn’t even try, did you?

Not true, though Dani can’t fathom telling her so. Dani did try. Over and over, not just for those first few months, but for two years. Two years trying to put it all down on paper. Two years trying to explain how Jamie--her eyes gleaming in the firelight, her smile sweet, her hand brushing Dani’s without thought--had been the only person on her mind, no matter what she tried to do about it. 

Two years trying to find the words for a letter to explain what she knows, and what she can’t believe, and what she can’t get away from: that it had taken only a single season, to fall in love. That it had taken only a single season to find someone she honestly can’t imagine life without. 

Jamie wouldn’t understand. 

Two years. And now she’s here, pulling up the winding drive to that big old house she’d called home for almost no time at all. She’s here, stepping out of the cab, feeling no older than the au pair who had run from grief and wound up finding a short-lived, powerful purpose. 

They’re waiting for her, she realizes--lined up outside the house like Flora’s dolls. Hannah, as beautiful as she remembers, with a brand new ring on her third finger. Owen, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his apron dusted with flour. Flora, almost willowy with newfound height, launching at her, and Miles, broader in the shoulders, brighter in the eyes, reaching to kiss her hand. 

Henry, too, looks pleased to see her. He looks healthy, his skin no longer the sallow of a man hidden away from the world. He smiles, and he presses her into a loose embrace, and she thinks it was worth going away, if this little family was able to bloom in her absence. 

They’re all here. They’re all wonderful.

Except.

She doesn’t ask where Jamie is. Tries her damnedest not to let them see the crestfallen expression she turns inward, the plummet of her heart. Jamie isn’t here. Jamie has, perhaps, moved on, too--found a new job, a new life, elsewhere. 

Jamie is gone, and no matter how wonderful the rest of them are--no matter how glad to see them she is--this will never feel quite right. 

“You’re just in time,” Hannah is saying. “Supper’s about ready, we’re just going to set the table. If you wouldn’t mind doing one thing?”

Pasting a smile onto her face, Dani nods. “Anything. Point the way.”

“You remember the greenhouse, I assume?”

A flutter, kicking up in her chest, hard enough to rattle her voice when she says, guardedly, “Of course.”

“Our last party is working late,” Hannah says, sounding slightly grumpy. “Again. Honestly, you’d think she’s growing the key to immortality out there, with the hours she’s been keeping.”

“She--” Dani swallows. Keep it simple. Keep it normal. It’s been two years. “She’s still...?”

“Grouchy?” Owen suggests. “Stealing my best biscuits?”

“Here,” Dani breathes. He looks perplexed, his head inclined in affirmation.

“Of course. Couldn’t pry her from those roses, the stubborn woman.”

They say it like it’s obvious, like the story was only ever going to play out this way--but even as she’s striding across the grounds at a brisk pace, Dani isn’t sure she believes it. Could it be a prank? An elaborate way to get back at her for leaving? Maybe she’ll reach the greenhouse, place her hand on the door, and find the place gaping open with nothing but ghosts for company--

Jamie’s back is to her, the gray of her coveralls stamped with dirt. Her hair is loose, her head bobbing, and Dani--her steps cautious as she confirms, yes, this is the same woman who has been turning up in her dreams for months--realizes she’s wearing a pair of headphones. Her hands are steady, though her boot taps out a rhythm, and when Dani gets close enough, she picks up the hum of Jamie singing under her breath.

Jamie, no different than she recalls. Jamie, exactly the same, bopping along to the Walkman poking out of her pocket. 

Jamie, who turns and leaps with surprise, jerking the headphones down around her neck. 

“Christ,” she breathes. “Scared the living shite out of me.”

“Sorry.” She isn’t, though. Somehow. Maybe because Jamie’s bewildered expression is already giving way to a huge smile. Maybe because Dani suddenly can’t breathe, overwhelmed by the memories of this very room--cards and conversation, wine and laughter. Jamie’s hand, brushing her own. Jamie’s eyes, searching her face. 

Jamie, never quite closing the gap. Never quite daring. 

“You weren’t meant to be here until six,” Jamie is saying now, brushing the hair from her eyes. Dani glances at her watch.

“It’s six-thirty-nine.”

“Fuck,” Jamie mutters. “Lost track of--was supposed to help in the--never mind.” 

She’s staring at Dani like she can’t quite believe her own eyes, her smile so enormous, Dani can’t imagine how she’d ever thought Jamie could be gone. Jamie, who is such a fixture. Jamie, who is so reliable, so wonderfully here. 

“Can I hug you?” she asks, and Jamie all but charges toward her. It’s a clumsy embrace, arms tangling around shoulders, Jamie’s hips bumping her own. Jamie, who hugs her so hard, leaning back, Dani’s feet actually leave the ground.

“Missed you,” she breathes into Dani’s ear. “Wanted to write. Wanted to--didn’t know what I’d fuckin’ say.”

Dani buries her face in Jamie’s neck, inhaling the long-missed combination of soil and sweat, that undercurrent of mint that follows every cigarette. It’s not a polished, pretty scent; it reminds her of summer afternoons, of hard work, of Jamie’s smile flashing over a glass of water. 

It reminds her of the heat in her fingertips, the urge to catch Jamie by the sleeve and pull her close, the reflexive lean of her body into Jamie’s on the couch as they both teetered toward dozing off. 

“We’re supposed to be at dinner,” she says, relishing the slide of Jamie’s skin against her own. “We’re late.”

“M’always late, these days,” Jamie replies. “Think it’s worth it this time.”

“Can we--” Dani swallows. “Not now, I know we’re supposed to--for Miles. But after? Tonight? Can we talk?”

I can’t walk away again, she thinks. I can’t go another two years without this. I can’t put it in a letter, but I can’t let it go, either. Not without knowing.

Jamie can’t read her mind, she’s sure--and yet, Jamie’s hand cupping her cheek, Jamie’s thumb pulling gently across her skin, seems to find everything in the silence. Jamie nods once, letting her hand fall away. 

“Think I’d like that very much, yeah.”

It takes every ounce of self-control, not to hold her hand all the way back to the house.

[blitzturtles]

Title: Fever (Ao3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba, AbbaBru, (Platonic) Bucci Gang

Summary: “Hey, so… where’s Booch?” Mista asks, leaning back in his seat.

All eyes are on him suddenly, before they gravitate to the chair that Bucciarati frequently takes up as his own.

Notes: For Day 1 of Sicktember, "Fever", because I never do anything on time. @sicktember

The morning goes like any other. One by one, the Don’s closest filter into the kitchen to get their first cup of coffee and whatever they feel like scrounging up for breakfast. There’s mundane conversation between the more wakeful lot; they aren’t allowed to talk about work until everyone’s finished their meals, which means the conversation doesn’t get much more interesting than whatever they’ve managed to get up to since the night before. It’s an odd sort of rule, but it helps to ensure that they can maintain some boundaries between their professional and personal lives, which further guarantees that they get more time together as a family, rather than as a team.

“Hey, so… where’s Booch?” Mista asks, leaning back in his seat.

All eyes are on him suddenly, before they gravitate to the chair that Bucciarati frequently takes up as his own. It’s empty with no sign that the man has made it downstairs, despite their designated breakfast time ticking by.

Narancia elbows Abbacchio to get his attention when he doesn’t seem to pick up on the same thing the rest of them have. He makes a motion for Abbacchio to take off his headphones and repeats the question.

“How should I know?” Abbacchio deflects with practiced ease, but there’s an edge to his tone. Sharper than even his usual morning demeanor calls for, and it’s clear--from the way his eyes fixate on Bucciarati’s spot--that he’s as concerned as the rest of them.

“You sleep in the same room,” Fugo points out, matter-of-fact and oblivious to the daggers that Abbacchio shoots in his direction.

“Yeah, well--” Abbacchio falters. He doesn’t actually have a reply for that.

“Maybe we should go check on him?” Trish asks, ever the most reasonable of the bunch, aside from perhaps Giorno.

“You don’t need to go… crowding him,” Abbacchio trails off as Mista and Narancia race out of their seats, already making a beeline for the stairs. He sighs and gets up to follow them.

What he doesn’t tell the group won’t hurt them. They don’t need to know that Bruno had been complaining of a headache the night before, or that he crashed unusually early. Or that he had been less than compliant about waking up with Abbacchio.

“So much for ‘just a headache’,” Abbacchio mutters under his own breath as he follows the kids up the steps. He can hear the rest behind him, each as eager as the first two to check in on their once-leader. “Hey, knock it off,” he calls when he finds Mista and Narancia outside the door to their bedroom, banging on it obnoxiously.

“But he’s not answering!” Narancia whines, dramatic and loud.

“And you think this will help?” Abbacchio raises his eyebrows, but he moves to unlock the door. The moment he opens it, he can see what his tired eyes failed to notice earlier. Bruno’s face, as little of it that is visible, is bright pink. There’s sweat clinging to his brow, and it’s obvious he’s been tossing and turning since Abbacchio left, which means he likely spiked a fever sometime recently.

Abbacchio ignores the kids in favor of making his way to the bed. He frowns at the dry, parted lips and the labored breathing that greet him. Bruno’s eyes haven’t so much as cracked open a hair, despite the sheer volume of Mista and Narancia. The rest of the gang catching up doesn’t seem to phase him either, even though none of them seems to be capable of shutting up.

Without thinking, Abbacchio undoes the clips that must have been left in from the night before. It speaks volumes to how poorly Bruno felt at the time. He always takes his hair down before bed, and Abbacchio isn’t sure how he missed that not-so-little detail.

“What’cha doing?” Narancia asks, startling Abbacchio out of his thoughts.

“He doesn’t like it when his hair gets sweaty,” Abbacchio explains without thinking. He splits Bruno’s bangs down the middle to pin them on either side of his face. It isn’t the most fashionable look, but it should hold.

“Guess you would know, huh?” Mista asks with a raised eyebrow.

Abbacchio feels his cheeks burn red at the suggestion, and he turns around to give the kid his best death glare. “That’s not what I meant.”

Mista throws his hands up quickly, “I was joking.”

“Don’t,” Abbacchio answers gruffly. He turns back to Bruno, trying to work out the best way to take out his top braid without disturbing him too much. He settles for loosening it instead, careful to avoid tugging it in a way that might pull. The point is to reduce the pressure, not add to his discomfort.

“He wears his hair down when he goes fishing,” Giorno speaks with such sincerity that it’s all Abbacchio can do not to snap at him, too. Plus, it would probably disappoint Bruno. If he were awake.

“Yeah, I pointed that out too. It’s weird.” Abbacchio shrugs. He would think that having your hair stuck to your skin with salt water would be worse than sweat, but he guesses that Bruno finds some nostalgia in it. He’s long given up on understanding certain things about his partner.

“I think it’s safe to say he’s sick,” Fugo points out, breaking the silence that follows. “We should probably get his fever down.”

“Right, yeah!” Narancia nods enthusiastically, then stops for a moment and looks dumbfounded, “How’d we do that?”

Fugo smacks him on the back of the head, “With medication and cold towels, obviously.”

“Hey!” Narancia spins on his heels, so he’s facing the other teen. He crowds in on Fugo until their chests are pressed together and Fugo’s reaching for something in one of his pockets.

“Cut it out!” Abbacchio snaps at both of them. He pinches the bridge of his nose and wonders why he ever let the whole group up here in the first place. He’s more than capable of taking care of Bruno on his own, even if he had missed the earlier signs.

“I can go get medicine,” Trish says, a bit meek compared to her usual self, and she’s gone before anyone can say otherwise.

“I’ll go get towels?” Giorno looks uncertain. He’s never had to deal with anyone else’s illness before. Not like this, and he’s always taken care of himself while sick. Usually by pushing through until his body sorted itself out.

“I’ll go with you,” Fugo offers with a half-smile. It’s meant to be reassuring, and Giorno seems to take it as such.

Abbacchio’s just relieved to have less people around. Mista and Narancia linger, but he elects to ignore both of them in favor of tucking the blankets in around Bruno. The best thing for a fever is to sweat it out, after all.

By the time the other three get back, Narancia and Mista have made themselves busy by going in search of a thermometer. It’s really more like a competition between the two, but Abbacchio doesn’t care as long as it keeps them distracted.

“I brought some water, too,” Trish says as she extends her bounty to Abbacchio. In one hand is a bottle of water; in the other is the medication she must have scavenged her own medicine cabinet for. That or the Team first aid kit. There’s actually a few of those throughout the house, but Bruno’s the only one that bothers stocking them, and that’s only when he knows to. For the most part, they run out of supplies because someone uses them without remembering to say anything later.

“We got hand towels in a bowl of ice water. It should keep him going for a while,” Fugo explains as he nods to the bowl that Giorno’s carrying and deposits his collection of towels on one of the bedside tables. He takes one and unfolds it enough to make a thin strip out of it. He dunks it into the water and squeegees out the excess before handing it to Abbacchio.

“Thank you,” Abbacchio says, taking the towel and placing it gently on Bruno’s forehead. It’s worrisome that he hasn’t stirred in the slightest. That despite all the ruckus, he’s remained sound asleep. Part of Abbacchio wants to leave him that way, but he knows getting the fever reducer in him will help him faster than the towels will. He gently shakes his partner’s shoulder and calls his name until familiar blue finally peaks open.

Bruno’s eyes are red around the edges, and there’s no focus to them. He blinks at Abbacchio a few times. Slow and owlish.

“You’re sick,” Abbacchio explains with little to-do. “You just gotta take these, and you can go back to sleep.”

A quiet hum is all he gets in response, and it’s damn near enough to convince Abbacchio to take Bruno to the nearest hospital. He’s never known Bruno to be cooperative a day in his life. Not when it comes to being sick or injured, but he forces himself to be reasonable. To think logically. Bruno isn’t indestructible. He’s allowed to feel like shit, and that means he’s allowed to want nothing more than to be left alone to sleep off the worst of whatever bug he’s managed to catch.

“I know,” Abbacchio murmurs, more to himself than Bruno. He helps Bruno sit up enough to take the pills and helps him back to lying down after that. He fixes the blankets and puts the wet towel back on Bruno’s forehead. Once he’s all settled, it takes only seconds for Bruno to pass back out.

“It’s weird seeing him like this,” Fugo admits, quietly.

“I don’t like it,” Trish’s voice is somehow softer, but there’s more to it. Her tone holds something else, and Abbacchio curses himself for not picking up on it sooner.

“He’ll be fine,” he says, doing his best to be reassuring. The problem is that he generally isn’t. “It’s been awhile, but Bruno does get sick.”

“Yeah,” Fugo says quickly, eyes following Abbacchio’s. “He’ll be fine, probably by tomorrow. Besides, Giorno can help if he needs to, right?”

Giorno looks a little startled to be pulled into the conversation, but he’s quick to nod, “If there’s any kind of damage, I can replace it.”

“See? All good. You all should get to work. It’s late already,” Abbacchio points out. Never mind the fact that he doesn’t plan on leaving Bucciarati’s side, which means they’re down, not one, but two men for the day. “And, if you see Narancia or Mista, tell them to forget about the thermometer.” The best thing they can do for Bruno at this point is leave him alone and let him rest.

“Right, yeah, let’s--let’s do that,” Trish says, stumbling over her words as much as her feet. She’s quick to reach for the door, obviously relieved to be dismissed without having to do so herself. Abbacchio can’t blame her. He doesn’t like seeing Bruno like this either, but he doesn’t have a recently deceased-from-illness parent at the forefront of his brain. He knows how much that still eats at Bruno. He can only imagine what it does to a teenager whose memories of the event are fresh.

Fugo follows her with a simple nod of his head at Abbacchio. A small sign of his appreciation that someone is taking care of the man that he sees as his savior, even now. Abbacchio mimics the gesture in acknowledgement and almost turns his attention back to Bruno before he notices Giorno, lingering by the door.

“What?”

“It’s--” Giorno swallows, “It’s nothing. Take your time. We can work out whatever we need to until he’s feeling better.”

“I will,” Abbacchio says with a tone that’s almost dismissive. Truthfully, he’s grateful for the permission. To hear it aloud rather than to think it to himself, but he won’t admit that. Least of all to Giorno. “Don’t forget to take the other two with you.”

“I will,” Giorno echoes with the slightest curve of his lips.

Cheeky little shit, Abbacchio thinks, but he watches Giorno with a near fondness reflecting in his gaze. It’s odd how much the little bastard has grown on him. Not, he supposes, unlike the rest of them. Maybe it’s all the time they spend together, given Abbacchio’s position in Investigations. Or maybe it’s the mutual concern for Bruno’s wellbeing. Whatever it is, Abbacchio’s glad the kid sees things his way. Just this once.

[te-quiero-verde]

Okay here we go: my answers to ALL of the asks I reblogged 🙄

Thank you SO MUCH @ginny-lily 🙄

This was so fun 🙄

Describe your favourite shirt

Don't care about clothes enough to have one

If you could, would you change your eye colour?

No

Name of an artist you think is underappreciated

Emy Taliana

Favourite flower?

Dandelion

Preferred type of weather?

Storms

A poem you think describes your closest friend?

Hmm let me write one: PURE EVIL. BUT I LOVE HER. THE END.

Do you keep your fingernails long or short?

Short (for climbing)

Favourite sea animal?

Don't have one (it's not sharks. I don't have favourite animals)

Favourite land animal?

Again, I don't have favourites. I have absolutely no preference for birds, moths and shieldbugs. I love all animals equally.

Are you religious? Spiritual?

Religious? No. Spiritual? Not really

Can you fold a fitted sheet?

Umm? I can fold sheets?

Are you part of the lgbt+ community?

You know what? I think I might be xD

What's saved as your phone's lockscreen?

Do you thrift?

That's an American word. I'm skipping this question

What's your natural hair colour?

Brown

Have any pets?

No

Would you ever try going vegetarian or vegan?

Already vegetarian; would consider going vegan one day (but would probably fail)

An animal you wish hadn't gone extinct?

Uhh, all of them?

How many languages do you speak?

English and un-fluent Spanish

Do you care for clothing brands?

Not at all

Favourite scent on a person?

Coconut? Or nothing?

Have you ever been camping?

Yes, many times

Do you play an instrument?

Used to play the piano

Gold or silver jewellery?

Gold

Any piercings or tattoos?

No but I wanna get tattoos! And maybe get my nose pierced as well

How many pairs of sunglasses do you own?

One

Would you ever want to play a game on television?

I'd be too scared of getting things wrong on a quiz game, but things like Total Wipeout (do people know what that is??) look so fun!!

Have you ever lived on a farm?

No

If you had the option, would you choose to move to another country?

Of course! I'd go and live in Rome with my sister!

Relationship status?

Single

What is your best school subject?

Spanish or English

Any unpopular opinions?

As you know, my opinions on food xD

Another name you think would suit you?

I've been told my name suits me very well?? But imagine if I was called Moon or Rain or Ocean...

A subject you enjoy learning about?

Ancient Siberian tribal rituals involving fly agarics 😏

A -core you enjoy?

Is it just me who doesn't understand all this aesthetic stuff?? I don't know 😂 I really don't know

An TV show you used to love? (AN TV SHOW???? WHAT IS THAT???? ARE THERE PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD WHO DON'T REALISE THE LETTER 'T' IS A CONSONANT???? IT'S *A* TV SHOW)

My parents never let us watch normal kids' TV when we were little, so all we used to watch were cartoons like Tom and Jerry and Bugs Bunny 😌

Any interesting family stories?

This is the best I can come up with:

You know those blocks with letters of the alphabet on that you have when you're little to help you learn how to write? Well apparently my dad used to spell rude words out with them 😂😂 and of course I had no idea what they meant so he could get away with it (he is just generally the most immature person ever. 😝 For example, EVERY time we eat melon he makes jokes. Every time anyone mentions buttering toast he makes jokes. Every time anyone says or does anything remotely innuendo-sounding, he makes jokes. And honestly I love him for it 😂)

Do you wear your socks mismatched?

I prefer to walk barefoot everywhere, but yes, when I have to wear socks they're ALWAYS odd

Your thoughts on magic - does it exist?

Maybe... ✨

Form of art you enjoy doing?

I can't art 😝

Any sideblogs?

Nope

YouTubers you enjoy watching?

Jonna Jinton, Keara Graves (IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHO THEY ARE, YOU MUST WATCH THEIR VIDEOS!!!! THEY'RE AMAZING AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH), Dan and Phil, Frank James, and my group of cringey American YouTuber friends (the AMP squad)

Do you have a type?

I can have more than one type right? I love people with red hair, goths, weird people...

Twin beds, queen, or king?

Queen? I think?

Do you have strong feelings against the colour pink?

No

A food you've never tried?

I don't think I've ever had steak? And I probably never will

Dogs, cats or fish?

Dogs

Do you collect anything?

Let's just say I went through a phase that I'm not proud of, and I may or may not own about 30-50 lip balms 🙈

Earbuds or headphones?

Headphones

Jean jackets?

I... have nothing against them? But I've never owned one?

Have a job?

Nope, too lazy 😇

Kill the spider or take it outside?

Make cute eyes at them and tell them how adorable they are, then either leave them to it or take them to my room

Do you think you can sing well?

Amazingly 😉

Favourite flavour of gum?

Mint?

Shuffle your playlist, what's the first song that comes up? (that should be a semicolon 😜)

Enter Sandman - Metallica

Icecream or cake? (ice-cream!!! Hyphens exist!!!)

Cake

Can you do your own makeup?

Nope

Ever written fanfiction?

Surprisingly, yes

How many blogs do you follow?

341

Do you brush your teeth before you eat?

You mean before every meal???? I don't do that! But I normally brush my teeth before breakfast

Type of phone you have?

Samsung Galaxy S20 5G apparently

What's your first choice at the vending machine?

BBQ Mini Cheddars (or crisps, to be less specific)

Beach or pool?

BEACH

Least favourite condiment?

I don't know? I think I love them all?

How much sugar in your tea/coffee?

None because I only drink chamomile tea

Ever broken a bone?

No

Rings or necklaces?

Necklaces (but I very rarely wear jewellery because I forget it exists)

Do you still play Minecraft?

I love Minecraft!!!! But I usually only play it at Christmas

Ever ridden a motorcycle? (MOTORBIKE 😡)

No

Favourite holiday?

Christmas ^^

Opinion on 3-in-1 body wash?

What is this question?? 😂

Practical, but I don't trust it

Do you follow politics?

Not really. I like taking online quizzes though so I've done this a few times, and that's as far into the world of politics as I'll go xD (WHY AM I NOT FURTHER LEFT??? I SHOULD BE FURTHER LEFT?? THIS CONCERNS ME??)

Your instagram handle?

I'm not sharing it on here! I've been thinking about giving you my normal insta though, Fransiska (if you want it)

[ghostyy-boy]

Why didn’t you tell me?

A fic with Kit and Ty where Ty finds out he is autistic. This is mainly me projecting, so read at your own risk. CW for slight ableism.

“I never realised how much you can take from someone by not allowing them the words they need to describe themselves”

-Lord of Shadows, Cassandra Clare

It was just simple infiltration mission; get in, get the information they needed, get out. It really shouldn’t have been an issue for Ty, but tonight, for some reason, it was. The sounds of the crowds of people around him were too much, the lights from the club were flashing too fast, too brightly. He wasn’t wearing his headphones either, which didn’t help (he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything important). Kit was at the door, trying to negotiate with the bouncer to let them in. Since he and Kit had met again they had fallen into a sort of awkward friendship, neither of them bringing up what had happened before. Ty didn’t think their current relationship could handle that.

“Come on, why it such a problem? We’re both 18.” He heard Kit say.

“I don’t know, there’s something off about the two of you.” The bouncer replied. Kit sighed. He had been trying to get them in for at least the last 5 minutes. Ty’s hands fluttered by his sides. While he knew the inside of the club wouldn’t be any better, it would be something. It would be progress, instead of standing in wait slowly wearing down his ability to cope. Kit kept trying to convince the bouncer to let them in, and just as he seemed to be making process was when it all fell apart.

The large group of people, all talking quite loudly, was what finally broke the last bit of strength keeping him together. He started to pace and finally decided to put his headphones on, his hands fluttering more violently now. The bouncer looked over at him and pointed.

“What’s wrong with him?” He asked Kit. Though it was a sentiment Ty was well used to hearing, the comment still stung a little.

“Nothings wrong with him,” Kit defended, “He’s just autistic. Do you have a problem with that?” The man looked down awkwardly, then moved out of the way to let them in.

“Finally.” Kit muttered while rolling his eyes. “Hey, we’ll be quick, okay? Are you going to be alright?” Ty nodded, not fully paying attention to the rest of what Kit was saying about the mission. Autistic was what Kit had called him. Ty had never heard that word before, though he knew it was some mundane concept. Was he autistic? While he didn’t know what it meant, something about the term felt right, as if it was some piece of a puzzle that had been missing for years finally clicking into place. He made a mental note to ask about it later. For now, he had the job to focus on.

-

The job went fine; Kit managed to get the information they needed, Ty managed to not completely break down. Now they were back at the institute up on the roof. He still wasn’t feeling completely fine, but Ty was holding together much better now. Though what Kit has said still stuck in his mind. He’s just autistic. Eventually, Ty’s curiosity got the better him and he decided to ask Kit about it.

“Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“What does autistic mean?” The question caught Kit off guard. “I heard you tell the bouncer that I was autistic.” He elaborated.

“Ok, yeah, so autism is, it basically just means your brain works a bit differently. It’s nothing bad. Autistic people tend to have specific interests they really care about, like Sherlock and animals for you. It can also mean being more sensitive to certain sensory inputs like loud noises and stuff. And having issues with social cues and sayings, and eye contact.”

Listening to Kit explain it, everything made sense. Every struggle to make conversation, every time noises and crowds felt like broken glass in his head. Every time he felt different, strange, alone, like a failure. To think all of that could’ve been avoided by knowing a single word. While he was glad to know it now, that happiness was overwhelmed by anger. Anger at the years of not knowing. Angry at his family, at himself, for not knowing. And then there was Kit, who seemed to know so obviously that he was autistic.

“How long have you known.”

“What?”

“How long have you known that I was autistic?”

“Since I met you basically. I knew a few kids on the spectrum before I ended up at the institute, you had a lot in common with them.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?” He was almost yelling now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I, I didn’t think it was important.”

“Well it was ok? It was important!” Tears started well in his eyes and he felt like breaking down completely. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself, at other shadowhunters for not knowing. I’m angry at the world and at how much better I would have felt growing up if I’d just known that I was autistic.” Kit approached Ty and held out his hand hovering around Ty’s shoulder, waiting to see whether touching him was ok. When Ty nodded, he pulled him into a hug.

“It’s ok. It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to be angry at me. I’m sorry for not telling you, and not realising that it was important.”

“Thankyou” Ty whispered back. They stayed there like that a little while longer, almost like that day on the roof of the London institute, until both of them decided that sleep was necessary.

The next morning, there was a pile of books outside Ty’s door on autism. He picked them up and started to read the first one, and just like on the roof everything made sense. It explained him perfectly. And while that anger was still there, he let himself relish in the happiness from finally being able to understand himself.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading, and sorry if the characterisation is off.

[thechangeling]

I was reading your co-signing the narrative post- great post btw- and your thoughts on Kit Lightwood helped me figure out exactly what bothers me about the way other characters talk about and treat him.

So, there’s this kind of this running “joke” in TLH that Christopher’s interests are boring, that everyone else puts up with it him as though it’s this big nuisance, that everyone zones out hearing him talk… and on and on and on.*** And then there’s this scene where Grace is genuinely interested or at least not bringing him down about his self-expression and the things that bring him joy, and that’s romanticized as special when it’s really kind of the bare fuckin minimum. Like, I’m not saying James/Matthew/Thomas had to immerse themselves completely in every sciency detail but the constant “jokes” implying that Christopher’s work is boring or incomprehensible or not worth their time is just so tiring. There’s always an undercurrent of “Christopher’s just playing around uselessly” (which is not true and even when he’s having fun with his work then it’s still automatically WORTHY and VALUABLE because it makes him happy!) Not to mention this recurring problem directly contradicts the value that Christopher’s work has (beyond its inherent value) when he sends it into the world to literally save lives: the poison antidote, the fire messages that will probably come about in CoT.

And the thing is, the merry thieves’ disinterest is directly meant to foil grace’s interest in order to lend the Grace/Kit relationship a certain significance, as CC assigns to it. I’m not saying shared excitement over an interest/hobby/career/field/etc isn’t sweet platonically or romantically. I just really dislike how the idea CC is using is “no one else can bear to tolerate Kit’s ‘quirks’ but Grace, and that is Endearing, and so they are Soulmates (TM)” rather than the much healthier and positive idea that “Kit does cool sciencey stuff which his family and friends generally don’t share as strong a passion for but still don’t huff about it like it’s somehow a chore or a burden on them, and then Grace comes along and she does happen to share a similar passion and that’s the beginning of their ties to one another.” That second reasoning is what could make their friendship really refreshing; we don’t need ableism poorly twined into romance to enjoy that relationship.

I haven’t read TDA in a while but I’m thinking we could also find touches of this with Ty partly because so much of when we see him is from Kit’s POV? Not that Kit means harm or thinks himself heroic but CC on the other hand is a repeat offender in “abled/white/straight/cis character is ultimately and completely responsible for the salvation of disabled/POC/queer character in this aspect.” And I’m kind of half dreading the wicked powers for that reason among others …

I apologize if all this seems obvious or rambly. I do sometimes have trouble articulating things exactly but when I read your post i had a lightbulb moment and I wanted to note it down.

Have a great day!

***Side Note: this is why I really enjoy fan-created content that explores Christopher’s relationships with people (even people he didn’t interact with on-page in the canon) without that annoying and problematic aspect built into the framework of the relationship.

^^^^^^^^^THIS ALL OF THIS!!!!!!

Full disclosure this is gonna be kind of long sorry. But you have stumbled across my favourite topic to rant about. Allistic saviorism. Basically the name is pretty self explanatory. It's when an allistic person fictional or otherwise has the desire to or actively attempts to essentially "save" the autistic person from the horrors of the world or their life, or even themselves because they think that the autistic person isn't strong or capable enough to fix/handle it on their own. All of this is usually done for very self serving reasons. Part of this is also allistic people being praised as heroes for being nice to autistic people or asking them out, or loving them.

I don't neccesarily think that kitty is an allistic savior ship on it's own. I think that there are definitely peices of those beliefs scattered throughout the books and it might get worse in TWP. That's honestly something that I'm worried about too tbh. But honestly I think that the fandom made it a billion times worse.

This mainly allistic fandom wanted to romanticize the idea of Kit taking care of Ty and shouldering the burden of his "unpredictability." Kit is the only one who can get through to Ty. The only one who understands the mystery that is Ty 🙄. Some of this is canon too. For example, Ty can look Kit in the eye, he lets him touch him. He doesn't wear the headphones when Kit's around right? And Kit was able to calm him down during his meltdown.

And while some of this is really cute from a romantic perspective, it's also kinda problematic because it reeks of allistic saviorism. It promotes the idea that Kit is like Ty's "cure." And that's just impossible.

And honestly I know I've contributed to this in some ways. Because if I'm being perfectly honest with you, there's a part of me that enjoys that. The romantization of autism.

The idea of being taken care of.

The idea that someone could love an autistic person and see them as "beautiful" and "extraordinary" and all the things Kit calls Ty, was incredibly moving and appealing to me as a kid. It still is. Because I grew up on stories of charity cases and allistic saviorism making headlines with prom dates. I was super secretive about it, but I was always a romantic growing up. But I thought that it was impossible for me to have a real love story because people like me don't get that. (Not to get all sob story on you sorry. I overshare. It's an autistic thing.)

And there are some really compelling things about kitty that really do work. And I'm not trying to suggest that Kit learning to help Ty with the ...shall we say more colourful traits of his disability is a bad thing always. It's not. But I think the issue is with Ty's lack of pov and Ty's lack of a narrative in the books. It makes him seem like less of a completely developed character and more like, "Kit's" you know?

And because we don't have Ty's pov we don't really get what makes Kit have this sort of calming effect on him or why it's different. And more importantly we don't get why Ty's letting him in, we only get Kit pushing past his boundries. The entire thing becomes about Kit essentially and that's at the root of all allistic saviorism.

Also like you mentioned before, Kit is seen as special to a certain extent because he can handle Ty. That's not neccesarily something the character believes obviously, but again with CC co-signing the damn narrative with the way she makes the impact Kit has on Ty such a big deal in everyone's eyes and in QOAAD she really emphasizes the drain Ty's necromancy plan is taking on Kit, suddenly Ty's grief becomes all about Kit and with no pov from Ty, it's more allistic savior bs.

Honestly most of this isnt actually THAT bad it's just when you throw it all together and look at the ugly history and let's be honest present, of autistic people being silenced and spoken over by our caregivers and loved ones and we are treated like burdens on them, and how those people are praised for loving us, it kinda looks bad. But the fandom definitely made it worse.

I always get criticized for criticizing kitty by allistic people with, " well if you think they're so toxic then why do you even ship them?" Which is a piss poor take lacking in any nuance. An autistic person has the right to critique a dynamic involving an autistic character. More to the point, you can love something and be critical of it. I swear when this fandom finally figures that one out... we could accomplish so much.

I'm really hoping this is making sense it's like 2 in the morning. As for Grace and Christopher's dynamic I agree with you. I basically have nothing to add. Bare minimum. Should not be idolized. The way the others treat him should not just be brushed off as no big deal. It's ableism.

Basically it's just a bunch of classic mistakes that come from a neurotypical abled writer writing nd characters. Some mistakes are more damning then others. But it does make me scared for TWP.

I can only hope.

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks for all the love this past week ❤️ It meant a lot to me.  Here’s 4600 words of subpar writing 😝 And FYI, we’re not getting too sad around here.  This is the only chapter they’ll be apart.  That means reunification next week!

April 12th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was with her family.  

It was Easter, and they were celebrating together, thankfully.  She was more grateful for it now more than ever, considering the state of the world.  She had stayed camped out at her apartment for the last two weeks with Kasha, who had come back from Evan’s place and was none the wiser about William being there for the fourteen days prior.  It made the most sense to Aberdeen because she still had to pay rent, and because she didn’t want to put Minerva through a stressful move again.  So, she stayed put.  Plus, now that she was living on her own, she’d know she’d go crazy if she lived with her family again.  Especially with Siena back from Ottawa because of classes in some weird state of limbo.  The sisters were thankful that Camden was independent enough to be able to learn on his own and not be constantly watched – and so was Orla.  She had enough to tackle, having her grade one class turned into online learning until further notice.  Everything was messy, and unprecedented, and weird, and not understandable, and weird, and chaotic, and confused.  

But Aberdeen had her family.  And Aberdeen had Willy.  

They’d kept their promise about calling each other every night.  Aberdeen would lay in bed and put in her headphones (so Kasha wouldn’t hear) and they’d FaceTime each other for a majority of the night, alone in their rooms, talking about anything and everything.  Sometimes they’d fall asleep talking, and their phones wouldn’t shut off, and Aberdeen would wake up an hour later and see the brightness of her phone screen still lit up, and she’d see William sleeping on the other end, his face so peaceful yet so burdened with responsibility of caring for his siblings while his parents and other siblings were eight hours and an entire continent and ocean away, and she wouldn’t have the heart to end the call.  

Things were fine in Tampa, from what he told her.  Jacquie had calmed down considerably.  Alex was…Alex – always trying to make jokes and make light of the situation.  They barely left their house, but because there were three of them there, it wasn’t too bad.  There were a lot of board games played, a lot of Netflix series watched.  From across the countries, Aberdeen and William were watching Tiger King together.  She didn’t think she’d watched anything as horrifyingly crazy.  William would crack jokes about her putting him in a meat grinder and feeding him to tigers.  She could only giggle.  

She knew that today the siblings were going to go for their first “outing”, just to get some sunshine, along the Courtney Campbell Bridge.  She hoped the weather would cooperate for them.  And once they were all home, and once Aberdeen was back at her place, the routine would begin, and she’d crawl into bed, and she’d FaceTime Willy to hear all about it.

Good Friday meant they had fish.  Easter Monday meant Orla’s roasted lamb and much of the same sides that were prepared on Christmas.  They’d still video chat with their grandparents, Camden would still play hockey in the driveway, and Aberdeen and Siena would go down into the basement and watch episodes of Brooklyn 9-9 or another show.  Routines, in a time of a global pandemic that brought so much uncertainty, were accepted with warmth.  Even for just a day, life was going to feel normal.  Orla and Mirza had even gone so far as to get their kids chocolate eggs.  It didn’t matter that the youngest didn’t believe in the Easter Bunny anymore or that the girls were in their early twenties – the gesture went farther than that.  They were all together again, even if it was just for the day.  

When Orla placed the roasted lamb at the centre of the table, asking Mirza for his plate first, Aberdeen took a giant whiff of the smell and immediately felt more relaxed.  She filled her plate with carrots and asparagus and Yorkshire pudding before her mom piled on the lamb and sauce.  

“So where’s our good friend William these days?” Orla asked as she finished serving everybody and sat down in her seat.  She immediately grabbed her knife and fork to dig in.  “He didn’t want to come for Easter?”

“I’m sure he wanted to come and have your lamb, darling,” Mirza said.

“He’s in Tampa,” Aberdeen answered, smiling slightly at her parents’ interaction.  “His brother and his sister went there at the start of lockdown, and so when he was good to go too, he went.”

“William quarantined for fourteen days too?” Mirza asked.  “Why?”

“He spoke to one of his Swedish friends on the Predators so he had to.  I bet the whole team did,” she explained.  

“Did you guys quarantine together?” Siena asked.

Aberdeen rolled her eyes.  “Hah.  Good one.”

“William has sisters?” Camden asked.

“He has three,” Aberdeen smiled.  “All of them are younger than him.”

“I can’t imagine three of you and Siena.”

Everybody at the table snorted.  “We can’t imagine three of you either, buddy,” Siena quipped back.

Camden smiled, then focused his attention back to Aberdeen.  “So what’s he doing in Tampa?”

“I don’t know.  Hanging out with his brother and sister.”

“Why don’t you call him and ask?”

“Camden,” Aberdeen said, “I can’t just call William Nylander and ask him what he’s doing so my little brother can know,” her tone made it seem like it was the most out-of-this-world idea.  But it was a total lie.  William would be at her beck and call – he always was.  If she called him right now, he’d answer.  If she called him and asked him what he was doing because Camden wanted to know, he’d answer her and tell Camden what he was doing.  He was just like that.

“I think the most important question we should be asking about William, considering the circumstances in our world right now, is whether or not he’s safe in Tampa,” Mirza interjected.  He stuffed a roasted potato into his mouth.  “Is he safe?”

Aberdeen nodded.  “He’s safe.  And he’s with his family, just like we are.”

***

Aberdeen could hear the video game sounds coming out of Camden’s Nintendo Switch as she lay in his bed, cuddled up to him while browsing through her phone.  It was later – later than she thought – but she wanted to stay at home for a little while longer, at least until Camden went to bed, because, well…it was a global pandemic and she wanted to see her family.  Her dad would drive her home eventually – she knew that.  But she wanted to spend some time with her younger brother, even if it was just cuddling with him while he played video games and she browsed Instagram.  Sometimes physical contact was the best contact; sometimes nothing needed to be said.  

“Hey Aberdeen?” he whispered.

Apparently something needed to be said.

She looked over at him and saw that he’d placed the Switch face-down on his chest.  He was looking up at her.  “Yeah bud?”

“Are you scared about the pandemic?”

Aberdeen softened immediately.  God, she wished he could stay this age forever.  She didn’t want him to grow up and turn into a moody teenager.  She wanted him like this forever: young and innocent and the little boy who cries over meeting Kyle Lowry.  “Of course I’m scared,” she admitted.  “Are you scared?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Mom’s home so it’s okay but I’m scared about dad.  What if the virus is on one of the envelopes or packages he has to deliver?  Or, like, on a mailbox?”

Aberdeen cuddled closer to her brother, if only to provide physical assurance.  There were so many unknowns about the virus.  It didn’t help that there was wall-to-wall coverage of it on the TV all the time.  “I don’t think the virus works that way, Cam.  I think—”

“But did you see how fast it spread in New York City?  Mom and dad were watching the news one night and the number of people who have it is so high,” he was so concerned.  

“I think dad’s work put a lot of, like, safety rules in place so nobody will catch it,” she tried to calm his nerves.  “Dad wouldn’t be working if it wasn’t safe.  Look at my work.  They’re not letting me work because it’s not safe.”

Camden considered his sister’s words.  She could practically see the gears shifting in his mind.  “I guess so,” he acquiesced.  “But I still think about dad a lot when he’s working.  Mom’s even praying a lot more now.”

“I figured she would be,” Aberdeen nodded.  “Listen Cam, I’m scared about everything too, but the reason why I’m not worried about dad is because dad’s a really smart guy, and we’re a family that listens to doctors and public health experts who are trying to make everything better,” she explained.  

“And don’t forget the epado…epid…”

“Epidemiologists,” she smiled, saying the word for him.  “Them too.  I’m listening to them.”

“Mom thinks I won’t go back to school this year at all.  She told me I’m gonna help her teacher her first graders,” he giggled.  “Imagine that!  At least I don’t have to take EQAO this year.”

“Lucky you,” Aberdeen wiggled her eyebrows at him.  “Hey, if I order some masks, what designs do you want on them?”

“Raptors and Leafs, obviously,” he smiled.  “Do you even need to ask?”

“Well excuuuuuuse me—”

Their conversation was interrupted by Aberdeen’s phone ringing from its place on her chest.  When she flipped it over to see who would be calling her at this hour, she should have known better than to wonder.  It was William.  It would only be William.  But he was requesting to FaceTime her.  Just as she was about to reject the call, she heard Cam gasp.  “Is that William Nylander?  He’s calling you?!”

She gulped.  “Cam—”

“Answer it!  Answer it!”

She swiped her screen.  She prayed to every saint that he wasn’t already topless.  When he finally appeared on the screen, he was wearing an oversized t-shirt.  She’d have to pray the rosary tonight.  “Hi William,” she greeted formally – no “Hi baby” or “Heeeeeyyyyy” like she usually did, hoping he’d get the hint.  

“Hello…” he answered back awkwardly, not realizing immediately why she was being so formal.  When she tilted the camera and he saw Camden lying beside her smiling from ear-to-ear, waving frantically at him, he understood.  “Heeeyyy Camden,” he greeted, waving back.  

“Hi William!” Camden said.  “How are you?”

“I’m good, buddy, how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he shrugged.  “Aberdeen told me you’re in Tampa Bay with your brother and sisters.”

“I am,” William nodded, shooting the quickest of looks to Aberdeen.  “She texted me to let me know you guys were apparently missing me today at lunch.  I already know my lunch wasn’t as great as the one your mom made.”

Camden giggled slightly.  “It definitely wasn’t.  Mom made lamb today.  Hey William?”

“Yeah bud?”

“Aberdeen told me you have three younger sisters.  I have two older ones.  How do you do it?!”

William burst out laughing, as did Aberdeen.  “Ooooooh Camden.  If I knew, I’d tell you.”

***

“How are you, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen get into her bed.  He’d called her again when he knew it was safe – when she was back at her apartment after her dad drove her home.  He hadn’t expected Camden to be on his earlier phone call, of course, but they’d spoken for about ten minutes until Camden was satisfied.

Aberdeen took a deep breath.  She was going for it.  “Jag mår bra hur mår du?” she replied in near-perfect Swedish.

She watched as William’s eyes bulged out dramatically and smiled mischievously.  “Minskatt?!” he gasped dramatically, even going so far as to sit up in bed.  She could only giggle.  “Minskatt where did that come from?  Are you…”

“Mhm,” she nodded before he could finish his thought.  “I ordered a bunch of Swedish language books and I’ve been learning since you left.  I wanted to surprise you.”

“Minskaaaaatt,” he repeated, except this time in a more playful accusatory tone.  “What have you taught yourself?”

“Just the most basic stuff,” she said.  “Hello, how are you, where is the washroom, that kind of stuff.  Verb conjugations are going to come later.  And…” she trailed off.

“And?”

She smiled again.  “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker,” she whispered.  

It was the most amazing thing William had ever heard.  It didn’t matter that the pronunciation was a bit off – it was incredible.  Incredible.  So incredible that he couldn’t handle it.  He smiled from ear to ear and buried his face in his pillow as he giggled.  “Minskatt…you have no idea how beautiful that sounds,” he said.  “Like…you honestly have no idea.”

“Do you like the surprise?” she asked.

“I fucking love it,” he said.  “Minskatt, you’re too good to me.”

“I want to learn more.  I want…I want to like, become as fluent as I can so that I can speak to your family in Swedish.  You know, when we’re in Sweden.  Whenever that is.”

William’s heart practically burst in his chest.  If it was possible, he would have spontaneously self-combusted right then and there at her words and their sweetness.  “If I could take you to Sweden tomorrow, I would.  God minskatt, I miss you so much.  I’m dying over here.”

“Me too.”

“I want to touch you so bad,” he admitted.  “I was dreaming about it the other night but then I woke up, and I couldn’t fall back asleep again.”

Her heart fluttered.  She’d dreamt about the same thing too last night and woke up sweating.  She’d never been this sexually frustrated before, even in her single days.  To think of the time they spent together during quarantine, only to have him leave and be unable to do those same thing…it was a lot to miss.  A lot to look forward too, as well, once they reunited.  But for now, she could only miss it.  “How were you touching me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

She could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.  “You know how,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she said, slipping her hand underneath the covers.  She snaked it down her body and underneath her pajama pants and underwear.  “Tell me how you were touching me.”

William watched as he watched her one arm move and her hand disappear.  He gulped at the sight of it.  “I was touching your pussy,” he huffed, slipping his own hand under the covers.  

“Was it wet for you?”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing hold of his cock, stroking it almost immediately.  “Is…is it wet right now?”

“Getting there,” she nodded.  

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhm,” she said, her eyes drooping slightly.  She waited a few moments as she continued to touch herself before she finally continued.  “Tell me how you were touching me.  What were you doing?”

“I was fingering you.  And my thumb was rubbing your clit…how you like it,” his voice was low.

“Mmmmm,” Aberdeen hummed, mimicking what he was saying and doing it to herself as best she could.  She’d done it for so long as a single woman that she’d practically mastered it, but ever since she’d been with William, he’d mastered it in the short amount of time too.  There was nothing he did that didn’t turn her on.  “I had your cock down my throat in my dream last night.”

“Oh fuck,” William huffed, not expecting that at all.  He thought, as always, this was gonna be about pleasuring her by some good old-fashioned phone sex.  He didn’t think she’d go so far as to include him too, considering how new the experience was.  But they were doing this.  “Was it deep in your throat?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded.  “It hit the back.”

“Fuuuuuck Aberdeen,” he huffed.  He imagined the feeling and it sent shivers down his spine.  He got hard almost immediately at the thought as he kept stroking himself, but ever since he’d been with Aberdeen, his own hand didn’t fucking cut it anymore.  She gave him the best handjobs, the best blowjobs…everything she did was the best to him.  

“Remember when I sucked you off in the backseat of your car?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet.  William nodded his head quickly.  “Remember how you came in my mouth?  You tasted sooooo good, Willy.”

“Ab—Aberdeen—fuck, don’t—”

“I can’t wait to taste it again.”

William’s eyes rolled back.  “I can’t wait to taste your pussy again.”

“When you come back home, I want you to fuck me like you did during quarantine,” she continued.  “Fuck me hard how I like it, Willy.”

“Ab—are you—look at me when you cum, Aberdeen,” William demanded.  He could tell by just a quick look that she was almost there.  “Look at me when you cum.”

“Are you close?”

“Y—Yeah.”

“Cum with me, Willy.  Think of my tight pussy when you cum.”

She could see his face contort slightly as he closed his eyes.  She bit her bottom lip and tried to suppress a loud moan, writhing in her bed and squeezing her legs together as her orgasm took over her body.  She heard William moan too, low and guttural, and when she saw his chest heaving just as much as hers was, she knew he came too.  

As her breathing steadied out, Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle slightly.  “I can’t believe we just did that,” she admitted.  “That was—”

“That was really hot,” William finished her sentence, albeit more bluntly than her tone.  “That was—we did that quick but God it was hot.”

“Yeah,” Aberdeen nodded.  “Nothing compares to the real thing though.”

“No, it doesn’t,” William agreed.  “The second I land in Toronto – finish quarantine – whatever, I’m taking you to my place and I’m fucking you senseless.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle and smirk at his words.  “Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

April 14th, 2020

“What did you and your brother do that day?” Aberdeen practically screamed into the phone as the video played on what seemed like an infinite loop on her laptop.  “Seriously.  What made you think to film that?”

“We practiced for a long time!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure the Toosie Slide dance took a lot of practice.”

“It does!”

“Your poor sister.”

“She lived.”

Aberdeen snorted.  “And what are those shorts, William?!”

“Um, excuse me?  Are you making fun of my shorts?” he giggled.  “I thought you’d like them, seeing as they show off my thighs.  We both know how much you like my thighs…”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

***

April 20th, 2020

“Did you get some sun today?” Aberdeen asked sarcastically, seeing William on FaceTime looking redder than a tomato.  

“You’re funny.”

“Have you heard of sunscreen?”

“I wore sunscreen,” he grumbled.

“Sure you did.”

***

April 25th, 2020

“Have you been writing a lot, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen concentrating on her screen, hearing her furious typing through the microphone.  They were on the type of call where the participants just went about their business, connected through the screen, watching the other do their work while also doing their own.  William was just being dumb and scrolling through golfing websites, but Aberdeen was actually being productive.

“Mhm,” she nodded.  “I just…well, you saw how much I wrote when we were together too.  In between the sex,” she chuckled slightly.  “But after you left, there was just this huge burst of inspiration and energy.”

“I think it was the sex,” William deadpanned, causing Aberdeen to laugh.  “The sex inspired you.”

“Well you definitely gave me the energy,” she smiled.  “Too bad what I’m writing isn’t a sex diary or something.”

“What are you writing, minskatt?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Um…” Aberdeen began, trying to formulate what she was writing into words.  “It’s about a girl.  Well, a group of girls.”

“You mean like that TV show Girls?”

“Better,” Aberdeen huffed.  “Lena Dunham is awful.”

William smiled.  “So a group of girls?”

“A group of girls and their relationships with each other.  And the expectations they have for each other that sometimes may not work in their favour.”

“So is it semi-autobiographical?”

Aberdeen side-eyed him.  Everything in writing was at least somewhat autobiographical.  But he didn’t need to know that.  “Maybe.”

***

April 27th, 2020

“I miss you so much,” William mumbled, his voice sleepy.

“I miss you too,” Aberdeen said, equally as tired.  “I can’t wait for you to hold me.  I can’t wait to just cuddle.”

“Me too.”

***

April 30th, 2020

For the first time in weeks, Aberdeen wasn’t doomscrolling about COVID-19.  She was doomscrolling about William.  

It started innocently enough, by Aberdeen reminiscing on the first time he drove her home from the airport and he spoke about his contract negotiations and how they turned a lot of people sour on him.  She believed him right then and there, but she didn’t go looking.  Now, with nothing to do and a curious mind, she went looking.

And she hated what she found.

Entire articles, practically one written every week, about his trade value.  Those same articles devalkuing him as a player and downplaying his role on the team as a top-six forward.  Panels of analysts and experts demanding that the Leafs trade him.  Entire Twitter accounts dedicated to blasting every single little thing he did on the ice.  Men with nothing better to do than to obsess over him and call him every name in the book.  

And then there was the video from Tim & Sid, the popular sports radio duo in Toronto that Aberdeen listened to for fifteen minutes once, but couldn’t get past Sid Seixeiro’s dumbass opinions.  In the video she watched, he took a less than 10-second clip of something William had said in a post-game interview during a loss against the Panthers and asked, indignantly, “What the hell is wrong with him?”  He then proceeded to go on a five-minute rant about the entire locker room having an attitude problem, how Willy had an attitude problem, how he didn’t care about the team…and people believed it.  She knew it.  People gobbled it up.  It was their serotonin while they hated him and called him a pussy on the internet and threw glasses at him in bars while drunk.  She felt sick to her stomach that these people felt this way about him.  

She’d been crying for a while before she picked up her phone to call him.  Her hands were shaking as she dialled his number, waiting for him to answer.  “Hi minskatt,” he cooed after the fourth ring.

“Willy,” she greeted, her voice shaky.

The last time she’d called him in such a state, she was being followed from her apartment.  William’s mind immediately went into overdrive.  “Minskatt?  What’s wrong?”

“Willy you know I love you, right?”

He softened slightly.  “Of course I do.  Why would you—”

“—I love you every way you are—"

“—Aberdeen—”

“—And I know you’re a good person and I love you so much, more than anything—”

“—Aberdeen—Aberdeen—stop.  What is this about?”

She took a quick breath.  “What everyone says about you, Willy.  They’re horrible.  Horrible.  I was reading and I was watching these videos and they’re just awful to you and—”

“Aberdeen, I told you not to watch those videos,” he said.

“Willy, please,” she begged.  “How could they say those things about you and not even know you?  How can they still be so bitter after your contract negotiations?!”

“Aberdeen—”

“I love you, Willy.  I love you every way you are,” she repeated.  “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you.  I love you.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Aberdeen,” he said calmly but fiercely.  “Aberdeen, you can’t listen to them.  I learned how to tune them out a long time ago.  Even if I did…I don’t care what they say about me.  I know who I am, Aberdeen.  I know the truth, and they don’t.  And you do too.”

“I do, but I just…they’re so awful, Willy.  I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Like I said…I know my truth.  My family knows.  And you do.  The most important people in my life know the truth and that’s all that matters.  I don’t give a fuck about what they think of me,” he said.  

Aberdeen stayed silent.  She knew she was overreacting, but damnit, she needed to overreact.  She’d been a part of the hockey world now for what felt like a century, and if what she had with William was going to last, it would be a major part of her life for years to come.  She needed to learn to roll with the punches.  But at the same time, she felt like if those punches were unjustified, then she was justified in being upset about them and wanting to speak out.  “I just love you so much,” she whispered, her voice much calmer now but still a bit shaky.  “God, I’m such a horrible girlfriend.  I’m calling you crying about the stupid Toronto media on the night before your birthday—”

“It’s okay, minskatt,” he interrupted.  “I would rather you call me then cry alone.  Besides, my birthday isn’t going to be special because you won’t be here.”

“Willy, don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” he replied.  “I wish I could spend it with you.  Fuck, I wish I could fly you down to Florida on a private fucking plane just so I could spend time with you.  I’d kill someone just to hold your hand right now.”

Her heart fluttered.  “I wish you’d come back to Toronto,” she whispered.  “When you get back, Willy…I’m gonna let you hold my hand so hard.”

They both snorted.  “I’ll be eagerly awaiting my gift, by the way,” he said, knowing that whatever she had in store for him for his birthday would be waiting for him when he got back to Toronto.  She made it that way – she promised, and he’d accepted.  He was dying in anticipation, but he’d accepted. 

“Want a little piece of it now?” she asked.

He smiled.  “You know I do.”

***

May 1st, 2020

Happy birthday I know you’re spending the day with your brother so it’s okay if you don’t text back I just want you to know how much I love you.  I’m sorry that I waited so long.  I’m sorry I denied it for so long.  You have been so good to me Willy.  I hope I’m half as good to you as you are to me.  I’ve never felt the love that you give me every single day from another person and I think that’s because the universe was saving it for ~you, for  ~you to show me, because I can’t picture it being from anyone else.  I love you so much and I miss you.  Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker.

i love u more than anything minskatt Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker always i will always love u i wish u were here with me nothing is the same without u

nothing is the same without you either I love you so much Willy

i love u aberdeen

[haloud]

things we could burn in one go (eminence) - chapter 8

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Forrest returns from his trip, and he and Alex clash over Michael’s presence in his life.

Excerpt:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

Sorry I’ve been so quiet. It’s been a pretty stressful few days. I love the pictures, and I hope your trip was fun.

Alex pressed send and sent a picture of himself and Buffy cuddling in the early morning along with it.

Forrest’s reply was almost instant.

 No problem, babe. It’s been great, but I’m also ready to be home…and see you again.  😉

He sighed. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words to explain the situation before Forrest walked right into it, to explain why he was sharing his home with Michael, to explain why Alex balked and deflected and talked his way around every suggestion that Michael could be on his own now, that he was healed enough to make do alone. Maybe Forrest wouldn’t understand, but Alex owed him at least that much. Right?

Looking forward to seeing you, too, he said, then dropped his phone onto his chest and ran a hand over his face.

The house was quiet around him. Michael was an early riser, but a stealthy one; thus far, even Alex’s hypersensitive hearing hadn’t been piqued or sent into an anxious, paranoid spiral by so much as the sound of a foot tread from rooms away. At first, the silence troubled Alex, brought up thoughts of Michael laying stuck in his bed afraid of disturbing Alex, afraid of him, but he’d started his own day only to find Michael’s already begun enough times now to find the quiet peaceful, thoughtful.

The buzz of his phone was jarring in comparison. He picked it up to check it.

 Oh yeah? Been lonely there without me?  😉  😉  😉

Alex threw an arm over his eyes and groaned.

He was saved from having to come up with a response by another message coming through quickly: Kidding—the first group just got called to board, so I don’t have time for all that. See you soon, babe.

Alex responded, See you soon. Sure you don’t need a ride from the airport? Call me if Wyatt flakes.

 I will. But I think it’ll be fine.

Okay. He hesitated again. This was his last chance to say something about Michael before Forrest was back in Roswell. But, chickening out, he just said, Call me even if you just don’t want to spend three hours in the car with him.

Forrest responded with a kissing emoji, and that was that.

Eventually, Alex got out of bed and got ready for the day. He’d taken to not wearing his uniform when off base in deference to Michael’s deep discomfort with it, and, though at times inconvenient, it was worth it to walk into the kitchen and see Michael at the table with a bowl of cereal, and for him to look up and smile at Alex instead of lean back and close off.

“Got any plans for today?” Michael asked as Alex checked his watch and grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter to eat on his way.

“Nothing much beyond work. Forrest is coming home today. He has a short layover in Denver, so between that and the drive from Albuquerque, he should get back to Roswell around the time I get off.”

“Oh. Right.”

Michael’s voice was flat, and Alex didn’t know what to do with it, so he stood at attention and waited for Michael to make the next move.

“Max will be devastated,” was all he said. In her basket in the corner, Buffy slept on.

Alex’s lips quirked up. “Maybe we can set up play dates for them. Honestly, Forrest would probably appreciate someone taking her to the park or something when he gets deep into writing or research.”

“Huh. I’ll let Max know.” He took the last bite of his cereal and stood to rinse it in the sink. Every day he regained a little more strength, but Alex’s keen eyes still couldn’t miss the uneven shakiness of his limbs or the hollowness around his eyes.

Alex checked his watch again. He needed to get going, but it was harder than he’d ever expected to leave Michael in the mornings, a thought that left guilty grit in the pit of his stomach. His heart and mind hit on a pattern he didn’t mean, a dangerous domestic assumption that wasn’t fair to anyone, not Michael, not himself, and not Forrest. The first few days, laying in the dark at night trying to locate Michael’s beat and breath from across the house, he’d told himself it was just worry for him that rooted those thoughts in his head, that if Michael was in his house for any other reason, things would be different. If it was a lie, well, Alex was comfortable with lying to himself.

“I’ll make myself scarce,” Michael was saying as he put his bowl in the drying rack.

“What?”

He shrugged and turned to face Alex, leaning his weight back against the counter. “I figured it’d be awkward if your boyfriend showed up and I was here. So I’ll make sure I’m gone by the time he gets back.”

“Michael, no.” Alex’s heart pounded sickly in his chest—Jones lying in wait to get Michael alone—Michael collapsing to the floor of his trailer, red pouring from his mouth, ears, and eyes—Michael powerless and pulled over on the side of the road to Sanders’s, apprehended and shoved in the back of a Project Shepherd van—"You can stay here as long as you need to—until we know it’s safe and the threats are eliminated. It’s not pity, it’s the same reason Max is living with Isobel right now, right? And she’s only got the one guest room.”

He was babbling, excuses flowing like wine. But no sacrificed dignity was too far if it meant keeping Michael safe—making him understand.

Continuing, he said, louder and firmer, “Frankly, no potential target should be alone right now. This shouldn’t wait until Thursday—I’m going to get in contact with Maria, Rosa, and Kyle today and work out a buddy system. Someone might have to double up; would it bother you if Maria—”

“Alex,” Michael interrupted softly. “It’s okay.”

Alex stopped in his tracks. When had he started pacing?

Michael stepped forward and, with only a heartbeat’s hesitation, so quick Alex might have imagined it, he put a warm, solid hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“If you think it’s safer, I won’t go anywhere.”

Swallowing, Alex nodded. His hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t pick it up to wrap it around Michael’s wrist and hold him there.

While they stood there, caught in the moment, dawn through the window catching dew on a spider’s web, Alex’s watch beeped little and tinny.

“Looks like you do gotta go somewhere,” Michael said, voice comfortingly casual, dropping his hand and stepping away.

“Right. I do. Look, we can just tell Forrest you were too sick to be alone. If he gets pissed, I’ll deal with it. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to come between—”

“You’re not. I should have told him, but I didn’t, so I’ll handle the fallout. I have to go.”

“Okay.” Michael didn’t look comforted, but he didn’t fight. “See you later. I might pick up a half day at work, too. Not pushing myself,” he pre-empted.

Alex was now running too late to argue, so he had to leave it there, with just a text to Max at a red light: Michael going to work today. Call me if anything happens.

He didn’t hear from Max all day, and when he checked his phone after work, he had only a couple brief messages from Forrest confirming he made it to Denver and made it onto his connecting flight.

Made it to ABQ alright? He texted, and by the time he got home, he had a response.

 Yeah. Super tired. Maybe I should have asked you after all…I’m stuck in the car with Wyatt’s music, ugh.

Michael’s car wasn’t in the driveway like Alex might have expected if he’d gotten a ride to Sanders’s and come back, but Alex took a deep breath and postponed spiraling over anything until he confirmed whether or not Michael was here. Shouldering his bag and locking his car, he made his way inside, responding with his other hand. Ugh indeed. I hope you brought the good headphones for blocking it—and him—out.

 You know it, babe.

“Michael?” he called.

“In the den,” Michael replied.

There, Alex found him stretched out on the couch, ankles crossed and propped up on the arm so Buffy could sleep beneath them, a book in his hands that he set aside as Alex entered the room.

“How was your—what the fuck?”

Buffy’s head perked up at Alex’s voice, and she gave him a baleful look.

Michael grimaced. “Don’t freak out—”

“What the hell happened?”

In two strides, Alex crossed the space between them and grabbed Michael’s hand to examine it. He sported thick white gauze wrapped around his palm, and Alex had to fight down a scream of pure frustration.

“I just burned myself at work. It’s not as bad as it looks—Max just went overboard dressing it since I wouldn’t let him heal it.”

Alex scowled. Traitor.

“Have you had Kyle look at it? Why didn’t you let Max heal it? Why—”

“Alex! It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He sat up so their eyes were closer to level; Michael’s eyes were golden and earnest and exasperated and Forrest might already be back in Roswell and Alex couldn’t stand it.

Michael continued, “I’m not stressing Max’s heart or wasting Kyle’s time with something like this. Little injuries are common in the shop. I really am gonna be fine. You need to breathe.”

Following that advice, Alex closed his eyes, breathed in and counted, breathed out and counted. Of course something as small as a minor burn wouldn’t register to Michael. Alex had held those hands, felt them on his body, counted every tiny white scar and callous, claimed and cherished them when one was warped with pain and grief. This little injury was normal, routine, not anything to protect him from, not any proof of Alex’s failure. He needed to calm down.

“Your car isn’t here,” he said, changing the subject off of such heavy things.

“Yeah, Max picked me up and dropped me off. I could have driven, but you’re not the only person being overprotective right now.”

Hm. Maybe Max wasn’t such a traitor after all.

“And is Sanders—"

He cut off at the rattle of the doorknob. Buffy echoed the sound with a bark, and instinct had Alex reaching for his gun; he rotated himself to be between Michael and the door, even as Michael hissed in displeasure. But he couldn’t defend himself like this, without his powers, so Alex wasn’t taking any chances.

“Alex, hey, babe, you left the door unlocked!”

Oh. Alex dropped his head down and took his hand off his gun, running through his hair instead. Right.

“Hey, Forrest,” he called back, checking his phone as he spoke. No missed calls or messages. He caught Michael’s eye and grimaced as Buffy clambered off the couch and loped towards Forrest’s voice.

“Everything okay? It’s not like you to…”

Forrest froze in the mouth of the hallway, locking eyes with Michael on the couch, who in turn flicked his eyes to Alex like he had the answers to the awkward situation that just landed in their laps.

“Michael! This is unexpected. I didn’t realize you guys hung out,” Forrest said with impressively convincing but still false cheer. He tilted his head and shot Alex a questioning look, too, and defensiveness rose hackles in Alex’s head.

“He’s been sick, had a pretty bad fever a few nights in a row, so I told him to come over, since he lives alone and all,” Alex lied brusquely.

“Ah. Well. I hope you’re feeling better?”

“I think I’m gonna go chill outside,” Michael said, leaping up with a vigor he clearly didn’t possess at the moment, wobbling dangerously and, after righting himself, staggering toward the door.

Thank god his car wasn’t here so he could only get so far if he decided to take off.

As long as he didn’t suddenly rediscover the ability to teleport that almost killed him, that was.

“He’s been here for how long?” Forrest asked as soon as they were alone, voice still false and light. His eyes were lined and exhausted from travel.

Alex shrugged and, inclining his head to suggest Forrest follow him, he headed to the bedroom to put his gun in its safe. Buffy watched them go.

“A few days,” Alex said as they walked. “Like I said—he was sick, and he lives alone. Sorry, I should have warned you.”

“Oh. Well, I, uh. That’s okay, I guess. I didn’t know the two of you were that close?”

The safe beeped, and Alex stowed his firearm and closed it, spun the dial, and waited for the whir of the electronic lock engaging too. Then he turned to face Forrest and said, “We’re friends. We spend time together sometimes. You know, Thursdays?”

“Every Thursday.” Forrest’s voice was flat again. “Do you guys only hang out on Thursdays, or…?”

“We have different schedules, so it’s mostly Thursdays, but not always. Hell, Forrest, he was there when the two of us met, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“That was months ago, and I’ve barely heard you mention him since we started dating, only seen him once, when we went to the bar. Remind me who comes to those little get togethers again? Or is it just you and Michael.”

“It depends on the week,” Alex said, growing increasingly defensive. His back was to the wall; he didn’t have much room to maneuver. His ears were ringing slightly. “But there are usually—we have the same entire friend group, hell, I invited you to a couple Thursdays, and you always said no! But, yeah, Michael hosts them, we hung out one on one a few fucking times, should I start giving you a numbered list of my known associates, or what? Fucking hell, Forrest.”

“Okay, okay, God. No, I don’t care who you see, I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know, you’re exes! You’re—you’re almost more than that, even; I may not know the whole story, but you have unfinished business or whatever! I know your song was about him. So the idea of you two spending a ton of time together makes me insecure. And I know you can handle yourself, but I worry, with Guerin being—"

Alex drew back at that. “Guerin being what? He’s not dangerous just because he doesn’t meet your perfect standards, holy shit, Forrest.”

His own voice whispered wasting his life nastily in his ear, but he shoved it down. That was guilt for another time; right now his energy was better spent defending Michael from whatever the fuck accusation Forrest was trying to point his way.

“Right, right, I know.” Forrest ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“That doesn’t really make it better,” Alex snapped back.

Forrest sighed heavily. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, I was just really taken aback seeing him here after being gone—and you being so distant. Can you see how that might feel? Even though I trust you?”

Alex took a deep, cool breath. Yes, he could see it. He’d sat with the guilt and anxiety about it for days, even as he’d been unable to let go of Michael in his grasp. He could at least be gentle about Forrest’s reaction now. He reached out and took his hand and said, gently:

“Michael and I used to date, yes. But we’re friends now, and nothing else.”

But no matter how sincere he tried to be, Forrest’s face told him something in there was hollow. Alex’s stomach twisted.

Even if, the thought intruded, even if he did decide to cheat, he wouldn’t put Michael through all the hiding and sneaking and secret-keeping it would take, wouldn’t do that to him. Again. He shoved that thought away with force, before it could get its claws in him, as nauseous with stress as he already was.

A brief smile flickered across Forrest’s face. “Okay. Thank you. I trust you, okay? I do. I’m sorry for getting all controlling.”

He leaned up, and Alex kissed him lightly.

“Hey, now that Michael’s gone…” Forrest raised an eyebrow and tugged Alex’s hand lightly in the direction of the bed. “I was hoping we could have a date night in? Celebrate my homecoming? As long as you don’t have any plans, that is, I missed you and wanted to do something a little spontaneous…”

“Hold on, he stepped outside to let us talk, he didn’t leave leave. He’s staying until he’s out of the woods with whatever he’s got.”

The glitter that had sprung up in Forrest’s eyes winked out again. “He looked fine to me.”

“He almost passed out when he stood up! I’m not leaving him by himself while he’s sick. That doesn’t mean we can’t still go out—”

“And what, I’ll have you home by ten with a nice chaste kiss on the doorstep? Or we can go back to my place, where Wyatt will be playing Xbox in the den.”

This was the sharpest Forrest had ever spoken to Alex, and his mind spun blank tape trying to come up with the appropriate reaction. Where was this coming from? Had Alex crossed such a line, gone so far that Forrest wouldn’t trust him at all? What about his reaction to Michael bled so far out of the boundaries he tried to draw, betrayed his heart so badly with no regard for what he knew he should want? What was wrong with him?

Forrest continued, just as piercing, “Or would we still come back here? Because I figured that’d be off the table, since you’ve gotten pissed any time I even hinted we might do anything with someone else within restraining order distance, but I’m more than happy to fuck with Guerin in the next room.”

Shock dropped Alex’s jaw at that one. “What the hell is your problem tonight? If this is how insecurity looks on you, maybe I don’t want to fuck tonight anyway. Maybe we should go out some other night.”

“I just don’t get why he has to be here, and not at his sister’s! Or hell, his girlfriend’s? Does she know he’s here?”

Utterly out of patience, guilt firmly faded in the face of budding fury, Alex snapped back, “Forrest, you are more social than this dumpy town knows what to do with. You’re involved in like four events every weekend, half of them at the Wild Pony, you cannot tell me you didn’t get that Maria and Michael broke up the first three times someone told you.”

“So his new girlfriend’s, whatever.”

“What, just because he’s bi, he has to jump right into—”

“That’s not what this is about, that’s not fair, Alex!”

“Okay! Fine. But what is it about? Because…”

Alex’s heart pounded harder as he realized what had his anxiety rising so fast and thick in his throat. Forrest set the tone and pace of their relationship, even if he set it as slow as he thought Alex needed, and Alex let him because Forrest was the one with dating experience, the one who knew how these things were supposed to work. But…

Swallowing hard, Alex said, “Because if this is you saying I’m choosing Michael over you—if you’re trying to tell me I can’t be friends with my ex, that’s a hard line for me. That’s not your call. I’ve never hidden how important Michael is to me from you, and it’s not on me if you elected not to notice. You’re not turning this on me when he needs my help.”

Forrest scowled and raked his fingers through his hair. “Never, huh? ‘It was a long time ago’ ring a bell to you? Never mind. Whatever. Just…you’re too nice, Alex. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of by a deadbeat ex or friend or whatever he is.”

“Deadbeat?” Alex whisper-shrieked. “I just told you he’s my friend, and you, what, you have to tear him down because of that? The only goddamn thing you know about him is what he has the audacity to Google next to you when you’re writing your oh-so-important Nazi fanfic, so maybe hold off on the judgment.”

Forrest’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline as Alex spoke, and by the time Alex was done he was storming out of the bedroom, Alex on his heels. “Okay, sure. Yeah, that’s it, I’m just jealous of the guy who hangs around you begging for scraps because you two used to get your dicks wet and he can’t move on like you did. Whatever. That’s none of my business, right. I do have eyes, Alex. I see what’s going on. But I’ll see you around some other time, once you’re over the power trip he gives you.”

“Forrest, wait. Forrest!”

“I’ll see you around, Alex. Buffy, come on, girl,” he called with a whistle, barely stopping to get her leash on before storming out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

And then Alex was alone in the entryway, watching Forrest leave through the window, stalking right past Michael huddled in a deck chair without a glance, and Alex’s jaw clenched harder when Forrest slammed his car door shut too and sped away.

Fuck. Fuck him. This wasn’t their first fight by any means, but the part of Alex that suspected he was too fucked up for an easy, normal relationship said maybe it was their last.

Would that be so bad? Would Alex actually miss Forrest, or would he miss the kind of relationship Forrest gave him, the kind that felt like what he should want, the kind that made him happier than loneliness did all the time except when it didn’t?

Okay, but now wasn’t the time to think thoughts like that, not in the moment, not so immediately, with hurt and anger still pumping red inside him. Especially not when the fault was largely Alex’s fault for not giving him warning in advance. Now was the time for deep breaths and not throwing things against the wall, no matter how much he might want to.

And as the fury left him, bit by bit, as his pulse slowed and his muscles relaxed and the clock again ticked louder than his breathing, it left this behind:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

A knock hesitated on the edge of Alex’s hearing, then came again, a little firmer, and anxiety propelled Alex down the foyer to answer it. Michael was still out there—something could have happened to him—or he could have left—Alex would call Isobel in to look for him, that was the backup plan, but—

Luckily, his front hall wasn’t long enough for him to truly get into a spiral; and even luckier, it was Michael at the door. Alex’s shoulders slumped with relief.

“You didn’t have to knock,” he said, stepping aside to let Michael back in.

Michael shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if you’d locked up in case Long decided to come back uninvited.”

With a snort, Alex closed the door and double checked both locks this time around. It really wasn’t like him to leave anything unlocked, but he’d pencil that freakout in for later.

That reminded him, though. “Speaking of locking up, here.” He opened a drawer in the little hall table and tossed Michael a spare key. “If you’re going to be going into work, or even just going out to hang out with Max and Isobel or Maria or someone.”

Michael caught it, but then he just stared at it like it was a shaken can of soda about to pop. “I, uh, kind of figured I’d be getting out of your hair.”

No! Alex wanted to shout, his already frayed nerves colliding with the visceral thought of Max’s healing failing or reversing somehow and Michael dying alone on the floor of his trailer. But he kept his voice level when he spoke, “I thought we talked about this.”

“We did! But I thought, with Forrest—”

“He can get pissed at me all he wants. The important thing is that we don’t know what Jones might try next, and we don’t know how what he did to you works, and as long as your powers aren’t back to normal…”

“I don’t want to—”

Heart rabbiting in his chest, Alex burst out, “Look, I get that you don’t want to be here, but my first priority is your safety, and—!”

“Of course I want to be here!” Michael interrupted. His eyes were wide and wild, hair a halo around his face.

“You—”

Both of them were panting like they’d run for miles, done anything but the running away and around each other they’d done their whole lives. The setting sun lined Michael in gold, slanted across the floor and the walls and got in Alex’s eyes but left the rest of him untouched.

Alex licked his lips and tried to speak again. “You don’t want to leave?”

Raking his hand through his curls, Michael replied, “Of course I don’t. I never want to leave. I want…” He spread his arms wide in a helpless gesture. “I don’t even know. Everything I’ve always wanted! But before anything else, I just want you to be happy. I’d never forgive myself if I destroyed your life even more than I already have.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex demanded. “Destroy my life? I’m the one who put you in my father’s path—I’m the one who—”

“No, Alex.”

He stepped forward like he might reach out. Alex wanted him to, but. What was he allowed to want? How had they gotten here, to this point, again or for the first time, and Alex still didn’t know the answer?

“That’s ancient history,” Michael said gently. “You could never destroy anything, you’re…”

Alex let out a harsh laugh. “Have you met me?”

“Alex.”

“I literally went into the business of destroying things and chose it four times since, even after it destroyed a part of myself.”

Furious tears blurred his vision, blurred Michael, and it only made him angrier and more desperate. What didn’t he understand?

“Yeah, and I think that sucks!” Michael said, chest rising and falling like it might if he was laughing, but the sound he made was more like hailstones, heavier and colder than rain. “But I—I’ve made my own sucky choices, too, I’m not letting you take credit for them just so you can bury yourself with them.”

“You were the one who started talking about destruction. I’m not letting you do that either,” Alex accused. “What could you possibly be destroying except yourself? I’m the one keeping you here.”

“Really? Like I didn’t just punch a hole through your relationship just by hangin’ around? I’m no good and you know that, Alex, you should—”

His heart fluttered so fast he had to clear his throat before he could talk.

“Should just walked out that door. And he took his dog,” he said breathlessly.

A beat of silence followed. Then, the corner of Michael’s mouth twitched—Alex’s eyes dropped to watch it—and he dissolved into disbelieving giggles, leaning back against the door like he needed it to hold himself up.

When he could speak again, he thumbed a tear away from the corner of his eye and said, “What are we doing here, Alex?”

“I—don’t know. I never know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Okay, emotionally,” Alex allowed. “Forrest wanted to date me, and he’s so normal, I thought I could, I don’t know, follow his lead and things would just slot into place. But I’m starting to think it doesn’t work that way.”

“I gotta tell you, Alex, you’ve never been great at follow the leader,” Michael said, so gently Alex almost felt it on his skin, a palm cupping his cheek.

“But I can try. I can learn new things,” he said. “So—what about your lead? What, what are we doing here?”

Michael swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing.

“I’m as clueless as you,” he said. “And I’m not ashamed to say shit scared, either. There’s a lot of things with you and me I’ve spent a long time telling myself either won’t work out or shouldn’t. I’m scared of all the shit I’ve said before. But some of it—a lot of it stands. I wanna be good for someone. I wanna be good for you, even if I know I’ll never be perfect—”

“You don’t have to be perfect. Nobody’s perfect,” Alex breathed.

“Right. That’s what they tell me.”

The two of them balanced on the edge of a knife, barely enough oxygen between them to sustain them both without sharing. There were always two ways this could go. The paths diverged again and again and again and they turned away from the clear path so many times it made the both of them half-feral. But, inevitable, like the summer sun, like gravity and escape velocity, here they were, again, at the crossroads.

Michael swallowed again, then his lips parted, then again.

“What do you want to say, Michael?” Alex asked.

“I want to tell you that I love you. That I have for a long time.” His voice cracked. “And that, no matter what happens, I always will. But I don’t know what to do with it, after this long, and now that things have been good between us, what if we fuck it up again? What if—”

Alex’s mind whirled, with words he thought he’d never hear, with the accusations Forrest had hurled his way, about power and control and all those things that, like Michael’s heart, Alex had far to go to wield responsibly, but here was a greater truth:

Alex had never been great at talking.

He seized the front of Michael’s shirt in both fists and hauled him in for a kiss.

Michael gasped against his mouth. His lips were hot, all of him burned, blazed against Alex wherever they touched, and they touched, as Michael relaxed against him, his hands grasping Alex by the elbows and sliding up to his shoulders, the sides of his neck, holding him there as they swayed, mouths locked together. He tasted just as Alex remembered. A cascade of shudders washed down his spine and washed away every other sensation.

They kissed in the sunset sunlight, in Alex’s home in front of the front windows, and Alex buried his hands in Michael’s hair and devoured him in the open, away from any place he used to hide him, under bedsheets, in anonymous rooms, in the back of his head when he was sure he was alone. When they pulled apart, they came back together, both of them insatiable, until Alex’s lips buzzed and the ache from standing too long crept in.

Michael was wobbly too, so Alex took him by the hand and pulled him deeper inside.

“We should probably keep talking,” Michael rasped.

��We’ve got a lot of time for that. As much as we need,” Alex promised.

He knew his priorities, now. That was a promise he’d never break again.

“Forrest—”

“If he didn’t mean to break up with me when he left an hour ago, I’ll take responsibility,” Alex dismissed.

“Okay, okay.”

When Alex glanced over at Michael, he was smiling and shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just forgot how much I like a man who takes charge.”

At that, Alex had to laugh too, and the sound came out so different, light and giddy, that he surprised himself.

“Bullshit,” he said. “After all this time, you think you still have to flirt with me?”

Michael tugged him by their joined hands. They’d only made it as far as the den and they were kissing again, just long enough to get them buzzing again.

“Only ‘cause you like it,” Michael murmured against his lips. “It’s a crowd pleaser.”

“I love it,” Alex confirmed, so soft he shaped the words more than he said them, but they were loud to him—Michael’s face changed, and Alex knew they were loud enough.

[buried-in-autumn-leaves]

A Sister’s Promise (The Dress)

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)

Relationships: B.O.Y.D./Huey Duck (Disney: DuckTales), Lena (Disney: DuckTales)/Webby Vanderquack

Characters: B.O.Y.D. (Disney: DuckTales), Huey Duck (Disney), Dewey Duck (Disney), Lena (Disney: DuckTales), Webby Vanderquack, Louie Duck (mentioned)

Word Count: 3027

Also Available On AO3 !!!

Movie nights are common for the kids. With such exciting lives outside and inside the mansion, there was something calming about nights like these. Where they would all sneak into Webby's room after the adults had gone to bed. Windows would be left open for Boyd, Lena, and the others to get in from outside without risking the front door.

This night was not unlike the others, but it was considerably smaller, only Webby and Huey currently present. They were waiting on Lena, who was expected to arrive soon. The absent of the other triplets was requested by Huey actually, and though odd, Webby didn't question it. She was sure there was a reason, and she'd learned not to question things between the three of them. As she finished bringing in the pile of blankets from the hall closet (They weren't meant to go in there, but what the others didn't know wouldn't hurt them.) Huey had settled on the floor across from the TV, "Hey Webs, throw me a snack?"

She reached into the basket next to her, where the group had kept all the snacks they've managed to sneak out of the kitchen. As she tossed a candy bar towards Huey, a tap could be heard on the window behind her. Huey jumped out of his seat.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I forgot to open the window. Probably just Lena, don't worry." She made a point made a point of reassuring them often, knowing how bad his anxiety could get. She ran over and threw open the window. Just as she said, as it opened a shadow could be seen moving on the wall, into the rooms, and then down onto the floor. After a second, the shadow faded, letting Lena's physical form take shape.

They smiled at Webby, "Hey, sorry, still not good at the whole 'going through windows' thing. The others not here yet?"

"It's actually just us this time, but I might invite BOYD over after Tangled. We're watching Big Hero Six, and it's his favourite-" She froze, and looked back over at Huey, her tone teasing. "Oh, would that be okay Huey?"

"Well not if you're gonna talk like that." He responded, rolling his eyes. Their crush on the android friend wasn't exactly a secret to anyone, but Boyd was kind of oblivious when it came to stuff like that, so thankfully he hadn't figured it out yet.

She noticed a backpack that had been hidden behind Huey before he had sat down. "Oh, are you sleeping in here? You can, of course. I'm just not sure how we'd keep that one from Dewey and Louie since you share a room and everything."

"Oh, no I wasn't planning on it, I just brought something I wanted to show you." He seemed a bit nervous, but mostly excited? "Just wait here for a second, I'll be right back!"

Without giving Webby or Lena a chance to answer, they ran out of Webby's room and she heard them enter the bathroom next door. Lena laughed, grabbing a random bag out of the basket of snacks and sitting down next to Webby. "Jeez, you guys are weird."

Webby awkwardly half-laughed back. "Yeah…" It wasn't anything Lena did, of course. She was just curious about what Huey could possibly be hiding.

A few minutes had passed. Webby and Lena were watching an Ottoman Empire rerun as they waited for Huey to come back. As the hosts once again started arguing, the two turned around, hearing a slightly static sound. Lena ran over to the source first. She pulled something out from under Webby's bed. "It's your walkie-talkie."

"Webby, please pick up, I need your help with something." Huey's voice could be heard clearly through the talkie, and Webby, confused, ran over to answer.

"Huey? Why do you even have your talkie on you? What's going on?"

"Junior Woodchuck Rule #1: 'Always expect the unexpected.' But that doesn't matter. Dewey's out in the hall. I need you to get rid of him for me."

"Get rid of him? Why? You're starting to worry me…"

"It's nothing bad, I promise. Just do this for me, please?" He seemed sure, and he didn't seem too upset, so choosing to once again not press the issue, (at least for now) Webby sighed and handed the device to Lena.

"I'll be right back, this shouldn't take more than a minute."

"It's not a problem, Pink. But I am not gonna pause this episode." Lena laughed, sitting back down near the TV. Smiling slightly, Webby nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Just as Huey had said, Dewey was walking around in the hall. He was carrying a tape measure and a clipboard. Webby watched as he seemed to write something down and hold the tape measure against a portion of the wall.

"Um… Dewey?" He turned around quickly, going to hide the objects behind his back. What he didn't expect was for the tape measure to snap shut and hit him in the side of the head. Exclaiming in pain, he shook his head and smiled awkwardly.

"Hey Webby, how are you?" He said, clearly not wanting to explain.

"I don't-" She started, then sighed, deciding the conversation probably wasn't worth it. "Just put this off for the night and I won’t tell anyone what just happened. I'm trying to sleep."

"Fine, deal. Oh, have you seen Huey? He didn't actually tell us where he was going." He picked up the dropped items from the floor.

Panicking, Webby stuttered, trying to think of something that's not suspicious. "He's uh… With Boyd!"

Not a good idea, apparently. Dewey looked surprised, before questioning. "Boyd? Like the Gearloose robo-kid Boyd? OH! Did he finally ask him out?! Louie so owes me $10-"

"What?! No, I- Wait you guys were betting?" She scoffed. She'd definitely be bringing that up later. How dare they not tell her? She could've won so easily! "Anyways, it doesn't matter. Just please let me go to bed."

Previous plans completely forgotten, Dewey nodded and ran back towards his room, yelling at Louie about the money. Once she was sure he wasn't coming back, Webby walked over to the wall where he had just been standing and picked up the clipboard that now lay forgotten on the ground.

"Indoor waterslide? Well, at least he got the measurements right…" Placing the board back down on the ground, she skipped over to bathroom door, grateful that the triplets were so easily distracted. She knocked once on the door, speaking quietly.

"He's gone, you owe me." She wasn't completely serious, of course, but Huey was definitely texting Boyd later that night. It was about time something happened between them, anyways.

"Thanks Webs. I'll be back in just a minute, don't wait for me."

Back in the room, she sat down next to Lena, who was just as curious as she was about Huey's plans. After pausing the show on the TV, they spoke up.

"What do you think he's hiding? I mean not wanting the adults to see I get, but their brothers? I mean I just don't get it."

"I know. This has only happened like once before, and that was when…" She trailed off, then gasped, smiling. "New clothes."

"What?"

"They got new clothes! Oh maybe it's a skirt, we were looking at some the other day-"

She was cut off by a knock at the door, and stopped talking immediately. "Who is it?"

"It's Huey, I just wanted to be able to see your first reaction to this-" Webby interrupted him once again.

"Is it a new outfit?" She asked, excitedly. She heard a sigh from the other side of the door.

"Jeez Webs, you ruin all my surprises."

Then the door opened, and there was Huey, pink and red butterfly clips in his hair, wearing a dress.

It was red, and pretty simple in design, reaching down to where Webby's skirts normally landed when they wore them. After a few seconds of shock, Webby finally seemed to realise what was happening, and squealed. She ran over, almost choking Huey in a tight hug. As he looked behind her, he saw Lena smiling, hands flapping as she ran over to look at the clips.

"These are so cute! Did you make them?"

"Yeah I just-"

"How did you even get this?! Donald and the others always go shopping with you. Oh let me go get my camera!"

"Well I had to-"

"What style would this be considered? I think you'd look really good in a sort of pastel emo vibe, you know? Maybe we could-"

At this point Huey had stopped processing what was being said. The shouting combined with the flash of Webby's camera was so much and it hurt. He pushed his way through Webby and Lena and shakily walked over to the corner of the room the light didn't quite reach. He immediately sat down against the wall and pulled their knees up to his chest, hiding their head and rocking slowly. That was when the others seemed to realise the issue. Webby was the first to act.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry-" She spoke quietly, frowning when Huey had tried to sign that he was okay. "Lena, there's a pair of headphones on my bed. Go grab them for me please?" Lena nodded and quickly went to retrieve them.

So, sensory overload.

It wasn't uncommon for Huey to have these episodes. His ADHD commonly contrasted with his sister's, hers being more hyperactive while his was more inattentive. There was nothing inherently bad about that of course, sometimes it was even a positive part of their dynamic. However it also caused Webby to commonly forget about how bad Huey's sensory issues could get, and so her hyperactivity has caused Huey to go through these episodes a few times before. Still, she never felt and less awful every time it happened.

But this wasn't about her, so she cleared her throat and blinked back the tears as Lena came back and handed her the headphones. She walked over to where Huey was still in that same position on the floor and put the headphones on the floor next to them. She then ran over to a box on her nightstand. Her creative nature had helped her make a variety of stim toys for the others based off how she'd seen them act. Louie had a noise based fidget cube, Dewey a necklace with different chew-safe pieces on it in different textures, etc.

She pulled out Huey's, which was her personal favourite she'd made. One of Huey's main soothers is soft textures like plushies, so that's what she focused on. The plush cube had different fabrics on each side, ranging from longer fur-like fabric to fleece to silk. She made sure there were slight separations between fabrics so Huey had full control on which texture he was touching. This feeling of control tended to help them calm down.

When she walked back over to where Huey was, they were wearing the headphones, and his head was up, but the rocking was still going on. She walked over and handed him the cube, being careful not to touch him directly until he said they were okay with contact.

As this was going on, Lena had gone over to the doorway to dim the lights. The feature was installed by Webby (only starting two fires in the process) after Huey's first overload. And sure, it would've probably been easier to ask one of the adults to help her, but where's the fun in that?

Webby and Lena waited in an awkward silence, letting Huey calm down fully. It seemed the overload left them nonverbal, at least for the moment. Fortunately, since these episodes were common enough, being nonverbal wouldn't completely cut off their ability to communicate. The two had learned basic sign language a few months prior. It wasn't difficult, considering how many languages Webby already knew and how quickly Huey could memorize things like that.

"How're you feeling?" She signed slowly, giving Huey a second to process. After a moment, he raised his hands, only slightly shaking now, to answer.

"Fine, just voice troubles again."

"Are you sure? Do you need anything?" As the conversation went on, Webby said both her own and Huey's parts out loud so Lena would know what's going on. She had attempted to learn the language along with Huey, but turns out it's a little harder to focus on such small details when you can just magic yourself a solution to pretty much any problem.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He responded. "But I don't think I can answer those questions you asked earlier right now. Maybe we could just start the movie first?"

Webby smiled, handing the remote over to Lena, who went to look for the movie. "Yeah, of course. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Huey smiled back and nodded, moving out of the corner and back to where Lena and Webby had set up for the movie. Leaning back against the end of Webby's bed, Huey smiled at their sister, turning his attention to the movie, that had just started.

-

By the time Mother Gothel had started warning Rapunzel about the dangers outside the tower, Huey had completely recovered. He cleared his throat, gaining the other's attention.

"I'm okay now. Uhm, to answer the questions, yes I made the clips. They're a pretty simple design, so I just stole some basic welding equipment from Gyro's lab while Boyd distracted him for me. And I didn't buy the dress, I made it. Sewing is one of the first badges I got, so it wasn't too difficult."

"That's really impressive, you know," Lena insisted. "You always say stuff like that. 'It's not that much, it's not a big deal.' Give yourself some credit."

Huey gave a small smile and nodded. "Noted… Thanks, Lena."

"Don't sweat it, nerd."

"She's right. And sorry, again. I keep forgetting and I really didn’t mean to-" Webby rambled before Huey cut her off.

"It's fine Webby, really. I know you didn’t mean to, you wouldn't do that." He said, mirroring the times she would always reassure them after an overload or any sort of episode.

Webby smiled at that, and then turned back towards the screen. However, the silent watching of the movie didn't last long, because it seemed Webby had one more question.

"Hey, Huey?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you hide this stuff from your brothers?" She asked quietly, frowning when Huey tensed up at the question. "You don't have to answer, I was just curious-"

"No… It's fine. Just caught me off guard I guess." He trailed off, absentmindedly staring at the TV. "I don't know, really. I think it's just because I want them to take me seriously?" He ended the statement more like a question.

"What do you mean?" Lena butted into the conversation, pausing the movie.

Huey shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's a stupid fear." This got Webby to smack their arm lightly.

"It's not stupid. You have bad anxiety, and you overthink stuff. Think about Louie. When he came out, did you start treating him like a child? I mean, any more then you already do?" She laughed. Louie was always treated like the youngest sibling by a huge margin, despite only being a few minutes younger.

He shook his head. "No..."

Smiling now, Webby spoke up again, teasing. "Well? What did you do?"

Huey sighed, laughing slightly. "I altered his dress into a suit design."

"Exactly!" She exclaimed, beaming. "And Dewey helped! In his own way... But everything went fine. And it'll go fine with you too, I promise."

They didn't answer, simply smiling and nodding slightly. "You can start the movie again, Lena."

As the characters danced across the screen, Huey looked down at their dress, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Maybe Webby was right. Maybe it would be okay. I mean they were family, right? He decided he should talk to Della first. That would be easiest. Plus she may be able to help talk to their brothers. She was their mom, right? If she told them, then nothing could really go wrong, at least for the moment.

He thought about how he would tell her, going through individual lines of dialogue and things she could ask or say. This internal monologue was interrupted by someone snapping in front of his face.

"Huey? You there?" Webby asked, smiling.

"Huh? Yeah, sorry. Just thinking. What's up?"

"You have your phone on you, right?"

They nodded, pulling the phone out of the bag that had held the dress. "Need me to call Vi or something?" His phone was quickly snatched out of his hand, and he looked at Webby, confused.

"Nope! It's just this movie's almost over so Boyd is gonna be here in a few minutes-" She paused, looking over at Lena, "Ah, speaking of which, could you please open the window, Lena?" When they walked over to open it, Webby turned back towards Huey. "But anyways, since he's gonna be here, I'm taking this so you'll actually have to talk to him. And if you really don't want to tell him that's fine. Obviously I won't force you. But I really think he likes you."

Shaking his head, Huey laughed. "I mean, nothing else could go wrong tonight…"

"Yeah! And if anything goes wrong I can just delete the memory from his software!" She said, beaming.

"No!" Huey yelled, looking at the door and waiting a moment before talking quieter. "We've talked about this. No editing Boyd's memories!"

"Yeah yeah, I know. So what do you say?" She asked, excitedly.

She watched as Huey looked down at his dress again, and looked up, grinning.

"I'll tell him. As long as you don't try to mess with anything, and you can't be in the same room when I do it. I'll drag him out to the garden or something. Deal?" He held his hand out towards her, and she shook it immediately.

"Deal!"

[yikesharringrove]

hop or max (or both👀) realise how close bill and steve have become and love it because they can just see how happy the boys are

The two boys hadn’t noticed Hop standing there.

They were sitting, pressed hip to hip on the stairs outside the Byers’ when he arrived to pick up El.

They were passing one cigarette back and forth despite the full pack sitting between them, and the outline of a pack he could see in Billy’s breast pocket.

They were talking softly, giggling, touch lingering as they passed the cigarette back and forth.

Billy’s face was soft, was open when he looked at Steve. Hop didn’t know much about the kid, but had heard stories, stories of how rough and tumble he tended to be, how he was hard and mean.

He looked like a damn teddy bear next to Harrington on the steps.

And Jesus, Steve was almost unrecognizable to Hopper.

He had known the kid for a long time, knew his dad all through school, knew Steve when he got old enough to start causin’ trouble.

He had seen Steve looking bored and proper, like he was above everything, like he was too good for Hawkins. He had seen Steve get knocked down a few hundred pegs, had seen him rattling about the town with a nervous twitch in his shoulder, a crazed glint in his eye and a spiked bat in his trunk.

Hell, he’d even seen the kid breakdown, had found him in the woods one night, crashing through with his bat, had started spewing off about how he needed to make sure they were all gone, that everyone’s safe.

(He had cried and shook and slept on Hop’s couch for about a day and a half after that.)

He was used to the spoiled little prince, or the haunted teen with trauma past his years.

He was not used to this carefree boy, this giggly mess sitting next to his friend, sharing a cigarette.

He liked the look on Steve. Liked the line of his shoulders when they weren’t carrying the weight of the world.

-

Max huffed.

She had been woken up by a few thumps in Billy’s room. He had originally figured Neil was in there being awful, but then she heard giggles, unmistakable teenage girl giggles.

That gave way into unmistakable teenage girl moans.

She slammed a pillow over her head, blocking out the high-pitched whimpering. It was the same as the past few nights.

This girl, whoever she was, Billy must like her if she kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Usually, Billy was sneaking out, not letting this girl in.

When the noises had stopped, she took the pillow off her head.

“Sucks that your parent are home. It makes me nervous, you comin’ here. When do they leave again?” She rolled over, didn’t care to hear the chick’s response. She put on her headphones, falling asleep to the Metallica tape still in Billy’s walkman, didn’t hear Steve say, just two more nights, Bill.

-

“You need any help?” Hop was elbows deep in the sink, scrubbing at the dishes from dinner.

Steve was leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved himself next to Hop and began scrubbing.

“You and Hargrove seem to be close.” He was too focused on rubbing the stains off of Joyce’s dishes to see how Steve’s cheeks went red.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“I think you’re good for each other. You both seem better.”

“‘Do you mean better?” Hop shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem as pissed off. I haven’t given him a speeding ticket in over two weeks for rage driving, and you haven’t seemed so, I don’t know, fucked up.”

Steve had to put the dish down as he laughed, was laughing so fucking hard he had to squat down, try to collect himself. He wiped his eyes when he stood back up.

“He’s secretly a really nice person. Don’t tell him I said that.” Hop winked at him.

-

Max threw Billy a weird look.

She had asked for a ride to Steve’s house, which was met with a I’ll be ready in ten from Billy. Twenty minutes of him getting his hair just so, they set off.

And then Billy got out of the car with her, walked her to Steve’s door.

“Don’t you got a date?” Billy just furrowed his brows at her. She looked pointedly at his clothes, the red shirt he only wore on his dates, almost all the way unbuttoned.

“Nah. Just haven’t done laundry in a while.” He was staring her down.

“Are you and Steve even friends?” But he didn’t answer. The door swung open, revealing Steve dressed casually in a pair of sweats. He smiled at Max, ushering her inside to the kitchen with the rest of the brats as he stepped onto the porch to talk to Billy.

She doubled back.

“You look nice. Got a date?”

“Yeah. Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.” She cringed at the way her brother was talking about this poor girl. Plus, ehy had he lied to Max, said he didn’t have a date.

“Sounds like a wet fucking dream.” Billy muttered shuddup as Steve laughed.

Steve was making fun of Billy, as wasn’t getting the shit beaten out of him for it.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” It really wasn’t but she raced off to join the others in the kitchen, left too soon to see Billy pin Steve against the door, kiss him roughly for a few seconds.

Billy snuck out again, after dropping her off at home.

-

Hop was on quarry duty tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant most of Hawkins’ young couples would be parked at the quarry or Lovers’ Lake or one of the other lookout make out spots.

Hop was wandering through with a flashlight, knocking on windows with a Hawkins PD, get outta here, you’re trespassing.

He came upon Billy Hargrove’s unmistakable car, the dark blue Camaro parked under a large tree, mostly hidden from the other’s.

He was expecting to knock on the back window, but heard voices coming from the hood.

Billy and Steve were passing what smelled like a joint back and forth, laying back on the windshield looking at the stars.

“Fuck knows I got no other plans for this year. I don’t mind waiting.”

“It’s a whole year, Steve. You’d be stuck here until I graduate.”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You might still get into Chicago.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Bill.” 

Hopper came stomping up to their line of sight. Steve put out the joint against the side of the car and tossed it into the bushes.

“Subtle.” Billy shrugged at Hop.

“I was expecting to have to pull you off some girl, Hargrove.”

“Hawkins chicks ain’t really my type.” Hop just shook his head.

“Well, you two are still trespassing. Services roads closed at six.” Steve just nodded vigorously as he slid off the car.

“We’ll scurry right off, Hop. Sorry.”

“And if you two are gonna smoke, please do it in a house, or somewhere I can’t smell it.”

The two slammed themselves in the car, Hop could hear them laugh as the car roared to life.

-

Max was digging through the backseat of Billy’s car, trying to find her skateboard.

He had hidden it from her, like a fucking child, so she snagged his keys when he was too busy being a meathead, working out in the living room.

It was as gross as she was expecting. Billy like to keep his car very clean, especially compared to his pigsty of a bedroom.

She picked up an old worn sweatshirt, found a plain shoebox underneath.

She didn’t want to snoop, but she was curious.

There were a few pictures of Billy’s mom right on top. She only recognized her from the necklace around her neck, the one Billy now refused to take off.

There were some movie ticket stubs, a big wad off cash she made a mental note of, a slip of paper she recognized from a fortune cookie from the place Billy would take her on Thursdays after school in California to get their two for one entree special. He had some jewelry in there, probably more of his mom’s, and a gaudy valentine covered in glitter.

She closed the box, didn’t care to dig further than the valentine, didn’t see Steve’s neat handwriting inside of it, the pictures Billy hoarded underneath it, pictures of Steve, pictures of him and Steve, even a few saucy ones of Steve.

Instead she turned her attention to the hoodie, to the faded Hawkins High Swim Team on the front.

She gave it back to Steve next time she saw him.

“Found it in my brother’s car.”

It would be back in a few weeks, anyway.

-

Hop opened the door to the cabin when Steve rapt on it.

He was toting a bunch of board games, was there to watch El for the night.

Hop raised his eyebrows when Steve set them down, revealing the faded Judas Priest shirt. He knew Steve liked shitty pop, wouldn’t be caught dead listening to hard rock.

“Nice shirt.” Steve looked down at himself, going red.

“Oh shit, Bill slept over last night, he must’ve left it.”

And then Hop noticed the bruises. The dark hickies on his neck, just under the stolen shirt.

Hop’s pretty sure he would’ve never heard the end of it if Steve had a girlfriend, pretty sure the kid’s would’ve lost their shit over it.

So Steve maybe was dating in secret, dating a boy in secret, a boy he spent Valentine’s Day with, a boy he giggled with and shared cigarettes with, a boy who’s shirts he stole and forgot he was wearing them.

But Steve was soft when he sat down next to El, smiled at her nicely and asked about the book she was reading.

So Hop shrugged, and went to his late shift.

-

“You wanna go to the mall?” Billy was standing weirdly in her doorway, trying to make himself look like he belonged there. “Could call up that chick friend of yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’s the catch.”

“No catch. Just needed to get something from the mall. Thought you’d wanna go.” He had been acting really off lately.

He’d been talking to her how they used to, before Neil doubled down and moved them halfway across the country. He had even made a joke the other day, one that wasn’t a mean comment masquerading as a joke.

“Lemme call El. Maybe Hop would drop her off.” She was even more suspicious as he smiled at her, went to back to his room. She talked to El for a moment, who said Hop would drop her off in ten minutes.

She poked her head in Billy’s room, saw him looking in the mirror, primping himself.

“Does your girlfriend work at the mall?” He gave her a withering stare.

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” She grinned.

“You so do. You know, I heard her sneaking in here a few months ago. I know that you sneak out to go and see her.” Billy flushed. “And it’s always the same voice, so don’t lie and say it’s different girls you perv.”

“Shut up, Maxine.”

“Make me, William.” He stamped his foot like a little kid.

“That’s it! No more mall for you today. I’m just gonna go by myself.” She blocked him in the doorway.

“Just tell me her name.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Tell me where she works and El and I will leave you two alone.” He shifted his jaw around.

“She works at Scoops Ahoy?”

“Isn’t that where Steve works?”

“He introduced us.”

But, But that didn’t add up. Billy had been seeing this girl long before Steve started working there. Maybe they knew each other before? No, Steve famously didn’t have any friends besides the party when Billy started sneaking around with that gir-

And then it hit her.

The fucking sweatshirt.

The Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt.

Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.

She almost threw up.

Steve was her brother’s secret girlfriend. How did she not fucking see this.

“Cool. We’ll let you two be gross or whatever.”

He gave her a tiny smile. She was trying her best not to scream.

Hopper dropped El off and Billy drove them to the mall, let Max pick the music and at one point, had even hummed along to the Hall & Oates song. Fucking Rich Girl.

She pulled El along to The Gap when they hit the mall, Billy making a beeline for Scoops.

“We’re gonna spy on Billy.” El just smiled slyly and nodded vigorously.

They crouched behind plants out in front of Scoops, could just hear Billy talking to Steve’s coworker.

“Dingus, your homoerotic rival turned lover is here.” Steve’s shoes squeaked as he launched himself from the back room. Max’s hands were clammy. She was right.

“Don’t be so loud, Rob.”

“There’s no one here.” Max heard a sound like something being hit dully. Steve yelped. Billy just slapped his ass. “But, you are not allowed to leave me for more than your fifteen. Not like last week. The rush came and I was alone for an hour, Steve. An hour.”

“O-kay, Rob. We’ll be quick.”

“And disinfect any surface you two fuck on. I refuse to touch that.” Billy roared with laughter as Steve squawked indignantly. Max peeked up to watch Steve drag Billy into the backroom. Billy grinned at Robin, a really nice, happy smile before turning to Steve.