#it’ll be up either later or tomorrow and i’ll just post two fics tomorrow or something
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the oil massage fic is gonna be a little late :) buttt to compensate it’s almost 4k words <3
it turned into a long fic even though i said the christmas event would be just drabbles and short fics cus it’s one of my biggest fantasies
#kai.rambles#just a little update#it’ll be up either later or tomorrow and i’ll just post two fics tomorrow or something#alsooo if you read thisss and you’ve sent me asks#i’m not ignoring themmmm i promiseee#life has been a little hectic recently so i’m a little behind on everything BUT I WILL ANSWER THEMMM
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Short Hangster mini-fic set post-mission on the carrier.
He’s not asleep. Lying in his rack and trying to calm his mind. He took another life today. He’d do it again. In a heartbeat, but it doesn’t make it weigh any lighter inside his heart or mind. Doesn’t help sleep come and quiet his mind any faster. He hears the three taps on his wall and pulls back the little curtain, half-expecting Javy to be standing there, it’s not. Instead it’s Rooster, looking tired but so alive he feels a welling-up of just sheer relief that he saved his life. He did a good job today even if he had to kill someone else to do it.
“Hey Hangman…”
“Rooster. You allowed out of medical?”
Rooster shrugs which Jake is going to take as a very firm no. He raises an eyebrow.
“Mav’s snoring. Keeping me awake.”
Jake huffs in amusement, wonders if he should get up. He can’t sit up, there’s not enough room. His three bunkmates are all fast asleep, everyone more than capable of sleeping through everything once you’ve had your first deployment on a carrier.
“Did you want something?” Jake asks, because he will get up if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. Wants to at least pretend he’s been able to sleep tomorrow morning when everyone wakes up.
“How do you… uh… You’ve killed someone before. And again today.”
Jake clenches his jaw, wonders if Bradshaw is going to make fun of him for it, or tell him he did a good job or some other type of bullshit.
“How do you deal with it? The guilt?”
Fuck. That’s a hundred times worse than anything he could have predicted.
“Jesus Rooster, you think I’ve got answers? There’s a reason I’m not asleep either…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“You’re admitting to not knowing something? Is that a first? Do I need to mark it down as a red-letter day or something?”
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. But… I don’t like that I’ve had to kill someone. Two someone’s. But I’d make the same choice over and over. Every time. Deciding between saving you and Maverick and killing someone I don’t know? Easy choice. Not one I wish I had to make, but I made it, and I will live with it. And I’ll continue to make that choice, and also understand that some days I am that someone that my enemy doesn’t know…”
“The risks of the job.”
“Yeah. Kill or be killed. Pretty high stakes.”
“Yeah. God.”
“Fuck, come on. Get in here. It’ll be tight but I don’t think either of us wants to be alone right now. Plus I don’t snore and you’re definitely meant to be sleeping.”
“We can’t both fit in a rack.”
“We can if we’re determined and don’t need to move. Come on.”
It’s proof that Rooster is tired and likely concussed that he simply agrees, folds himself down until he’s pressing his back against Jake’s front and he lets himself rest an arm over him, shifting his head so they can share the pillow.
“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Not like you can get out without waking me up anyway.”
“Shh… sleep.”
He hadn’t thought that being squished tight into his bunk, holding Rooster tight to him, would have aided his sleep at all but he wakes later to a dead arm, Rooster still firmly under his arm and held tight like he’s afraid to let him go. Blinking at him in disbelief is Javy who is silently mouthing what he suspects is what the fuck? at him. He shrugs and reaches for the curtain and pulls it closed. He could do with a bit more sleep.
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summer nights
part 2 of “summer, sun, and a smoking engine”.
summary: after steve came to your rescue when your car broke down, he offers to take you out to dinner and show you around hawkins. you decide to take a chance, in the hope it could lead to something more.
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: no use of y/n, fluff and awkward conversation i guess?
a/n: i know it’s been a while since i posted anything (like over a month but we’re gonna ignore that) but i’ve been super busy working practically every day and i have been insanely exhausted but i had a burst of inspiration the other night and finally got something ready to be posted. this is part two to my last little fic so if you haven’t read that and want the context, i’ll have it linked below. there may be a part 3 to this if i can get the motivation to do it so be on the lookout for that as well. like, comment, reblog (any little bit helps) and i hope you enjoy! :)
part 1 | masterlist | prompts list
“You mean to tell me you’re going on a date with a guy you just met? You? The girl who wouldn’t even go on a date with the guy she had a crush on since 8th grade?”
“It’s not a date.” You wrung out the rest of the water in your hair into the scratchy motel towel, phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. Your best friend scoffed on the other end of the phone, prompting you to roll your eyes. “He’s just showing me around the city.”
“Yeah, okay. You don’t just show someone around the city at 7:00 pm when they’ll only be sticking around until morning.”
“Okay, so maybe it's a date.” Your friend chuckled on the other line, and you shifted the phone to your other shoulder while you searched through your bags to find something to wear. “It’s one date, not like it’ll go anywhere. I mean, when am I ever gonna be back in Hawkins, Indiana besides when I’m driving through to visit you?”
“You don’t have to be in the city to date someone, you know.” You could hear her rustling along on the other side, the sound of a duvet crinkling as if she were rolling over in her bed. “Long distance is a thing.”
“Yeah, I tried that, remember? He cheated on me within a week of being gone.” You pulled a dress from out of one of your bags, holding it up to your body as you looked in the cloudy motel mirror.
“At least give it a thought. You always say that love will come along at the right time, maybe this is it.” You stayed silent for a moment, soaking in her advice. It was true, you did say that it was only a matter of time, but it was more a self soothing mantra to make you feel better about your shitty dating life. You never really meant it as anything more than that.
“Yeah, yeah. Look, I gotta go, okay? I’ll call you when I’m back on the road tomorrow morning.”
“You better call with good news, okay?” You could hear her laugh on the other end of the line when you let out a groan. “Have fun, love you.”
“Love you, too.”
You put the phone back down on the hook with a click, staring down at the mess of clothes now thrown across the small motel bed. Every combination you’d held to your body in the mirror just hadn’t looked right, making you run your hand through your still damp hair. Never once had you worried this much about what to wear, especially for some guy. Now here you were, worried about if you were dressing too casual or too fancy or too colorful. You took in a deep breath and dug to the bottom of your suitcase, pulling out a simple black skirt and plain lavender top, not too flashy and not too simple, either. Deciding it best to just settle for what you had in your hands and not overthink it, you shoved all the other clothes back into the suitcase and zipped it shut.
Next thing you knew it was 30 minutes later and you were rushing to finish putting yourself together, your hair never quite falling right and your makeup always seeming to be smudged no matter how much you tried to fix it. The knocking on your motel room door had your heart lurching in your chest, swiping on a quick stripe of lip gloss before you took a deep breath and opened the door.
Steve was standing on the other side with his hands in the pocket of his jeans, an untucked polo with the first few buttons undone wrapped tight around his chest. Somewhere in the last hour he had taken great care to get his hair styled, and the expensive smelling cologne he wore wafted towards you when a warm summer breeze blew in from behind him. He smiled when he saw you open the door, shoulders relaxing as if he had been nervous that you wouldn’t answer.
“Hey.” His smile seemed genuine, not like the fake charming ones you usually got from the few guys you tried to date back at school.
“Hi.” There was a moment of silence where neither of you knew what to say until Steve cleared his throat.
“Come on. I know a good diner that’s open late where we can grab something to eat.” He nodded his head towards the parking lot, taking a step back as you stepped out of the room and shut the door behind you. He walked with you down to his car while trying to make awkward small talk, opening the passenger side door for you and shutting it gently once you’d gotten settled in the seat. He climbed in himself and started up the car, engine humming as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
The silence in the car was cut up by the occasional short conversation and the sounds of music softly playing through the radio, street lights illuminating the sharpness of Steve’s face as the car traveled down the road. After about 10 minutes, maybe less, you arrived at the diner, a slightly run down building lined in neon lights with three cars already in the parking lot. After pulling into a parking space right by the door, Steve turned the car off and ran over to your side of the car quickly, opening the door for you before you even had a chance to reach for the handle. You were thankful that the lights above you weren’t quite enough for him to see the blush forming over your cheeks.
Inside the diner, the pair of you picked a booth over in the corner, far away from the other couples and families who had also decided to get a late dinner here. The waitress, a kind older woman with bright red lipstick and heavy blue eyeshadow, took your orders and left, leaving the two of you alone to sit in a lingering, slightly awkward silence.
Each of you tried to start a conversation, but it felt as if you had no idea what to say, eventually sharing a choked laugh to fill the silence. Apologies naturally turned into conversation, and before you knew it, you were already halfway through your plate of burger and fries.
“So, you said you go to school in-state?” You nodded, swallowing the fries you had been chewing.
“Mhmm. There were no good options back home, and I’ve got friends in Indiana so I figured it’d be a good choice.”
“What are you studying?”
“Chemistry.” Steve’s eyes widened for a moment and he let out a small laugh. “What?”
“You are way smarter than me to be studying something like that. I barely passed chemistry in high school.”
“I don’t know, you seem like a pretty smart guy to me.” He scoffed. “I’m serious! Maybe you just haven’t found what you’re good at yet.”
“Well, I’m glad you have so much faith in me.” You laughed, and another silence fell over the table.
“So, your boyfriend gonna be mad that I took you out tonight?” You choked a bit on your drink and gave Steve a small smile, eyebrow raised at his bluntness. He cringed at himself a bit, failing quite miserably at his attempt to subtly feel out whether you were single or not.
“He might be, if I had one.” Steve’s head perked up a bit. “Fortunately, my dating life is quite abysmal.”
“Really? Girl like you and no boyfriend?” Steve’s voice had a bit of a teasing lilt to it, lips upturning at the sides in a charming smirk. You felt your face heat up at the way his eyes scanned over your features, lingering a bit longer in some spots..
“Guys don’t really ask me out much, and as you can probably tell, I don’t really go around asking guys on dates much, either.”
“Well, what changed this time?” He leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hand. “I mean, you just met me and you let me take you out.”
“Well you never said it would be a date.”
“Would it have changed your mind if I told you it was?” You stayed silent for a moment, giving him a smile of your own as you sipped your drink.
“No.” Steve’s smile grew wider at that.
“Good.” Steve fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out several bills, placing some atop the bill the waitress left at your table and throwing a few more in the middle of the table as a tip. He stood from the booth, reaching his hand out towards you. “Come on, I’ve got somewhere else I want to show you.”
You raised an eyebrow at him and sent him a curious smile, taking his hand in yours and letting him lead you back to his car.
The drive was probably 15 minutes, although it felt much shorter with the small talk that kept the two of you entertained the whole drive. You found out that he’d been working at the Family Video you met him in for a few years, he still lived with his parents even though they weren’t around much, and he spent a good chunk of his time looking out for a group of kids a few years younger than him. He was humble every time he was talking about himself but bragged on and on about his friends, and every time you asked him a question about his high school years he seemed to cringe and change the subject.
You let out an airy laugh as he turned down onto a dark dirt road, ending abruptly a few feet into the woods surrounding it.
“You know, if you were anyone else, I’d think you were a serial killer taking me out to the middle of the woods like this.” Steve kissed his teeth and his face flushed red.
“Yeah, I really didn’t think about how that would seem when I thought about bringing you out here.” He turned off the car and undid his seatbelt, giving you a slightly apologetic look. “I swear, I did not bring you out here to kill you.”
“It’s okay, I trust you.” He gave you a smile before hopping out of the car, once again running over to your side to open the door for you. He held out his hand to you again and you took it, gripping it tightly as he helped guide you down a worn down path that snaked through the trees.
His pace slowed as you came up to a small clearing, a collection of large rocks the main feature in the center of it. A warm wind rustled the leaves in the trees, and you gripped Steve’s hand a bit tighter when you heard some animal running across the leaves behind you.
“So, this where you take all of your girls on the first date?”
“No, not anymore.” You wondered what he meant by that, but decided not to question it. “Just figured you’re a girl who likes to look at the stars.” You let out another laugh, probably your hundredth of the night.
“You’re pretty good at making assumptions about people, I’ll say that much.” You leaned against one of the rocks and turned your head up to the sky, looking up at the stars that dotted it and connecting the constellations with your finger. “They’re so clear here, nothing like Indianapolis.”
You heard the leaves crunch under Steve’s feet as he came to stand next to you, barely a shoulder apart.
“You can see them even better at Lover’s Lake, but I figured it might be too soon for that.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to take me some other time then.” You turned your head to face him, surprised at just how close he was to you.
“Yeah? You’d like that?”
“Yeah. I think I would.”
You felt crazy. You never went on dates, never asked a guy out, never even sent a slightly romantic glance towards a guy, and here you were, flirting with someone you just met today, who you may never see again, and blushing when he gave you those stupid soft eyes and that charming smile. You told yourself that dating was this long, drawn out process and that you would never date someone who you weren’t friends with first, but yet right now, staring at Steve and practically melting with the way he was looking at you, you were filled with this overwhelming urge to just grab him by the shirt collar and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe. It didn’t make sense, how you could go from being so scared of relationships one minute, to imagining what it would be like if you never met your friend in Indianapolis and just stayed here for the rest of the summer. It had your mind running through a thousand different questions all at once, the loudest of them being ‘do I kiss him?’
Nature made up your mind for you as a loud crack of thunder sounded overhead, breaking the staring contest the two of you had been having for the past minute. Steve muttered something under his breath and grabbed your hand again, pulling you behind him quickly in an effort to beat the rain that was sure to fall soon.
You were able to make it back to the car before the first drops started to fall, but the drive back to the motel was filled with a tense silence accompanied by the sounds of heavy raindrops hitting the car from all angles. When Steve finally pulled the car into the same parking spot he placed it in when he picked you up, he broke the silence.
“If you want, I can take you down to Eddie’s garage in the morning to check on your car. He rarely ever sleeps, so I bet he’s gonna be up all night working on it.” You gave him a tight lipped, unsure smile.
“That’d be nice, thanks.” He gave you a nod and a tight smile back, staring at his hands as you got out of the car and walked up the stairs to your motel room. Your key was halfway in the door when you stopped, hair and clothes dripping as you got more and more soaked with rain water the longer you stayed outside.
You couldn’t let this chance go to waste. You just couldn’t.
Without enough time to stop yourself, you ran back down to Steve’s car, yanking open the passenger side door and leaning your top half inside.
“Hey, did you forget someth-” You grabbed him by the shoulders and cut his words off with a kiss, a bit sloppy and unsure, but he didn’t seem to mind. After a few seconds, one of his hands came up to meet your cheek, and you found it hard to pull yourself away.
“Goodnight, Steve.” He floundered for the words he wanted to say, smiling lips moving like a fish out of water when he couldn’t form the words. With one last laugh, you closed the car door and ran back up to your room, sliding the key the rest of the way in and taking refuge from the rain.
Clothes still dripping and hair still soaked, you leaned against the door to collect yourself, then rushed over to the phone with a squeal.
Your best friend was probably asleep, but she wouldn’t mind being woken up to hear about this.
< part 3 coming soon >
#steve harrington#stranger things#fanfic#steve harrington angst#steve x reader#stranger things angst#women writers#stranger things fluff#fluff#short fanfic#steve harrington fluff#romance#summer
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A Favor: Part Twenty-One
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.
***
The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?
The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.
By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.
Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.
Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.
“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”
Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”
“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.
“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.
Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.
Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.
“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”
As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.
Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.
Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.
“What?”
“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.
“I agree, but—”
Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”
Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”
He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.
Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”
He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.
Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.
***
Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.
“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”
“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”
When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.
Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.
Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.
“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”
“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”
“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.
“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”
A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.
“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”
Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.
Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”
“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”
“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”
“Guys!” Nesta snaps.
Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”
Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”
“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”
Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”
“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.
“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”
“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”
“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.
“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”
“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”
“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.
Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”
“But it’s what he’ll think.”
“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.
Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”
“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”
“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”
Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.
“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”
Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.
Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”
Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”
“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”
Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”
“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”
“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.
There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”
Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.
In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.
When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.
“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.
“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.
A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.
“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”
Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.
Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”
“I can hear you,” Azriel says.
“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”
“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.
“So can I,” Emerie nods.
“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”
Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”
Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”
“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”
She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”
“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”
Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”
She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.
God, having friends sucks.
Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”
***
Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.
Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”
“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.
“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.
“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”
“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.
“What tone?” Cassian repeats.
Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”
“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”
“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.
“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”
She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”
But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?
He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.
Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.
Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.
“What are you doing?” Nesta says.
“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”
Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.
Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.
“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.
Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”
“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”
Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”
Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.
Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”
Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.
Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.
Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.
“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”
Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.
“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.
“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.
Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”
Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.
When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.
Az starts, “What a fake little—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”
Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.
“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.
Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.
“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”
Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”
Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”
He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.
“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.
“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.
Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.
“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.
“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.
“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.
Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.
Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”
Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”
Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”
Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”
Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”
“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”
That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.
Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.
God, sometimes having friends sucks.
***
a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland
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if you don’t know, let me go - f.w
Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.)
- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!
Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!
---------------------------------------------------
“Do you think he’s going to ask you?”
It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned.
“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.
No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship.
Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.
“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet.
Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.
“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.
-
Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.
“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next.
“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?”
Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.
‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’
Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.
“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet?
“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.
She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.
She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’
Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks.
“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?”
As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm.
Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks.
“That offer to the ball still on the table?”
-
Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.
“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”
It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him.
“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”
Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe.
“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it.
-
She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.
She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.
“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner.
Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.
“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit.
She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.
“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face.
“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.
“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong.
“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.
“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.
-
Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N.
“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do.
“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up.
“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here.
“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N?
It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.”
Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey.
-
Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne.
“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.
“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.
“He asked me.”
Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”
Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her.
“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake.
“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her.
“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”
If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.
She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her.
“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.”
Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.
Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him.
-
Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him.
Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay.
“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade.
However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for.
Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing.
While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day.
-
The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable.
Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.
Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.
Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina.
Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.
Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.
“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.”
“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.
“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.”
Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through.
“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?”
He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.”
Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow.
Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.
Alone.
“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.
-
He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.
He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?”
Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile.
“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars.
“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers.
“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”
“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.
“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-”
“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her?
“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.
And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate.
“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.”
Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.
She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers.
As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.
Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle.
“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go.
“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his.
She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts.
“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.”
Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.
“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it.
“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.”
-
Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons.
Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”
---------------------------------------------------
#fred weasley#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley one shot#fred weasley x reader
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winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader
Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).
I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.
(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)
Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love).
Word count: 9.4k
HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.
Like she’s doing now.
“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.
The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.
You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.
You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.
“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”
“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.
You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”
“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”
“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”
“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.
She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”
“You should go.”
You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”
“Why don’t you want to?”
You give her a look. “You know why.”
“I don’t.”
She does. She knows exactly what happened there.
“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”
“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”
“So you do remember!”
“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”
You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”
You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.
+++
It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.
Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.
You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.
More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.
That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.
You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.
But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.
He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.
He was correct.
It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.
But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.
Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.
That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.
And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.
The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.
Until Aaron met Haley.
Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.
You watched your best friend fall in love.
And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.
You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.
Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.
Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).
How he thought he might want to marry her one day.
The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?
But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.
He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.
Then came the summer before his senior year.
It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.
June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.
July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.
Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?
But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.
Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.
You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.
You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.
The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.
You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.
You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.
+++
You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.
Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.
But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.
You need coffee.
You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.
Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.
Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.
You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.
So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.
You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.
Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.
Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.
Maybe he won’t recognize me.
But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.
Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.
If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?
The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?
Who is he?
You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?
You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.
You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.
Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.
“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.
“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”
He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.
The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.
Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.
“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.
And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.
Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.
Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.
It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.
“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”
“You stole my question,” he jokes.
“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”
He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”
“The B-A-What?”
“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”
“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”
“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”
“We’re a team,” he offers.
“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”
He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”
You give him a look. “Of course I do.”
“It’s not great.”
“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”
“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”
“You what?”
He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”
“Intriguing.”
“I can’t believe you’re interested.”
“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”
“I remember,” he says quietly.
And just like that, you remember, too.
It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.
“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”
“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”
“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”
“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”
“How is she doing?”
“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”
“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.
“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”
It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”
“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”
You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.
“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”
“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”
“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”
That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”
“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”
“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”
“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”
“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”
“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.
“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.
Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.
“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”
He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”
A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.
You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”
You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.
Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.
“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.
“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”
“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.
And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”
“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”
“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.
He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”
You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”
“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.
But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”
“Lucky for you, I’m free.”
He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”
“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”
“I was going to ask,” he admits.
You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”
After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.
He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.
“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”
Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.
You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.
Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.
Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.
+++
After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.
But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.
He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.
You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.
You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.
In the end, your prediction was correct.
“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.
The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”
“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.
You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”
She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”
There it is.
“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”
“Oh, I knew that already.”
You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”
“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”
“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”
She grimaces.
“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”
“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”
“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”
“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”
“Did he seem angry when you asked?”
“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”
“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”
“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”
Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”
Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”
“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”
“Shut up.”
She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”
“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”
While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.
Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today
You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.
He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.
You try not to think too much about it.
+++
And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.
You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.
Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.
You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.
“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.
You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”
“Aaron?”
“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.
“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.
“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”
“Okay…”
You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”
Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”
Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.
“So it’s...a date, then?”
“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”
“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”
“Who says?”
“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”
“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”
“Same difference.”
“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”
“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.
+++
You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.
“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.
You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.
That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”
“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”
“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”
“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”
“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”
“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”
“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”
“They can’t be that bad.”
“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”
“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”
“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”
You blink. “They do?”
“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”
“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”
“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”
“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”
He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”
“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.
But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.
“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”
Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”
You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”
“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”
Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”
You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.
“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”
“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.
She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.
Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”
“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”
“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.
+++
You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.
You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.
Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.
Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?
You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.
But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.
It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.
He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.
You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.
You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you���re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.
Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.
Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.
But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.
“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”
“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.
When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”
“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”
“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”
“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.
Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.
After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.
In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”
From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”
“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”
He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”
“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhm.”
The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.
+++
After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.
You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.
“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”
Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”
“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”
He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”
“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”
“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”
Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”
You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”
“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.
The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.
“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.
You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”
“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.
“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.
The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.
“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.
“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.
“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”
“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”
“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.
“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”
The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.
“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”
“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”
“In-- Wow, okay.”
“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.
“I see that,” you chuckle.
Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”
“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too,” you smile.
“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”
“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”
“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.
She nods. “Definitely.”
Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”
“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.
“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.
“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”
“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”
Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”
You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”
“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”
You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.
“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.
“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.
You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”
For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.
Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.
You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.
Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.
+++
After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.
You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.
You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.
The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.
“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”
Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.
“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”
You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”
“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”
Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”
“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”
You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.
“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.
Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”
You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.
It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.
The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.
You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.
Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.
He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.
Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.
Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.
“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”
He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.
He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.
You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.
You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”
You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.
You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”
Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”
“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”
Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”
“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”
This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”
“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”
Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”
“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”
“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”
“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.
“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”
“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”
“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”
You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.
“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”
“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.
He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”
You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”
“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”
“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.
And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.
His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.
From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.
#winter love#all i want for christmas is you#aaron hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#hotch x you#hotch x fem!reader#hotch x reader#hotch x y/n#aaron hotchner christmas fic#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch fanfic#hotch fanfiction#criminal minds christmas fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#merry christmas#!!!#<3#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#small angst with a happy ending#angst with a happy ending#mostly tooth rotting fluff tbh
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Thousand Eyes
Warnings: Pro Hero Au, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub-themes, overstimulation, begging, choking, oral (receiving), jealousy, hair pulling, claiming, slight breeding kink, fluffy ending
Shoto Todoroki x Female! Reader
Word Count: 7.4K
a/n: Happy Holidays everyone! I hope whoever comes across this is having a good end of the year and finding the positives in all the craziness. I have a few more fics in the works and will start pumping them out since I’m on break. Maybe I’ll start incorporating hcs, fluff only stuff, drabbles, etc and not just the long fics. Much love <3
You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone waiting for Todoroki to arrive home from work. You had just finished fixing up dinner and he typically came home around the same time so the two of you could eat together. While switching from Tiktok to Twitter, you heard the front door click signaling to you that Todoroki had come home. Bringing yourself up from the couch you walked over to the door to greet him with a hug. You barely left any room for him to remove himself from his shoes before you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled into him. Todoroki looked down at you, smiling.
“Hi, baby.”
Dropping his work bag off to the side he returned your hug, squeezing you a little tighter than normal. Pulling away from him, you moved back a bit to finally let him all the way through the door.
“How was work today?”
Grabbing his duffel bag up from off the floor and bringing it into the bedroom you heard him respond from the other room.
“Not too bad. Actually, it was pretty calm today, mostly patrol over anything.”
“Well, that’s nice to finally have a break of sorts.”
Walking back into the main room, you saw him towards the bathroom.
“Yeah, it was a nice change of things. Actually, something else came up. I want to talk to you about it but I’m gonna shower first if that’s alright?”
Nodding lightly in response, you waved him off. Walking back into the kitchen you turn the burner back on the stove to give the dinner that you made some extra heat.
“We can talk about it over dinner.”
Hearing him hum an okay and disappear into the bathroom, you hopped back on your phone and scrolled through Twitter again. Mindlessly scrolling, you saw a post reminding you about your childhood. It was a meme regarding the Grinch and you went deep in thought about your life in the earlier years. Thinking about how much you loved the Christmas season, and how that film somehow brought your family together no matter the occasion. The memories sticking with you dearly. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t seen your phone shut off or Todoroki slipping out from the bathroom. He was standing in front of you and you still hadn’t noticed him standing there.
He walked up to you, placing his arm on your arm and his other hand finding his way under your chin lifting it slightly so you could look at him.
“Hey, my little ember. You there?”
He softly chuckled which brought you back to reality. Staring up into his eyes, you realized once again how beautiful he was. His hair was halfway dried, a few beads of water snaking their way down his strands. His brows were slightly furrowed in an attempt to silently understand what was going on in your head. Even though you guys had been together for a few years now, seeing him in front of you like this after you had zoned out and made the blood rush to your face. Making you heat up instantly.
“Y-yeah I’m fine. I was just thinking about old memories and got lost in them. You uh, you ready to eat?”
“Yeah sure.”
Grabbing two dishes from the cabinets you plated the food for both you and Todoroki. Bringing them to the table you turned back around to grab two glasses you turned around and asked him what he wanted to drink. Bringing the two cups to the table you finally sat down and the two of you began to eat. Swallowing you looked up at Todoroki.
“So what was it you wanted to talk about?”
“Oh! Yeah, I completely forgot.”
Taking another bite of food Todoroki began to speak through his mouth full of food.
“So when I was leaving work today one of my interns informed me of this gala being thrown for all the heroes. I called Midoriya to see if he knew anything about it and it seems that it’s more festive than formal. Like a Christmas get-together. So, this is a long-winded answer of me asking if you’d want to join me?”
Your mind was racing about what you were gonna wear to this gala because the last thing you wanted was for you to feel underdressed.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah! No, I'd love to go. I was just thinking about what I was gonna wear.”
Chuckling softly, you rubbed the back of your neck, kinda embarrassed at yourself for being so vacant of reply for your boyfriend.
“You’re always thinking about how you look...and I don’t understand why because you know you’re gonna be the hottest one in the room.”
“Sho! You’re gonna make my head big.”
“What?! It’s true. You’re too hard on yourself”
Shoveling another bite of food in your mouth you brushed him off
“Yeah, yeah I know but still I wanna look good. I can’t be next to you and then not put out. Can you imagine how that’d look?”
Looking at him incredulously you were waiting for him to respond and when he did you wanted to slam your face in your hands.
“It’d probably look fine because you look fine regardless.”
“Shotoough-”
Exasperating at his response it caused him to let out a small laugh. Following suit with the small laughing fit, you shook your head and regained yourself.
“So you said it’s kinda festive like we’re supposed to dress up?”
“I suppose. I’m pretty sure either way is fine.” he responded flatly standing up to go help himself to a second serving of food.
“When is it by the way?”
“Tomorrow.” he said, turning around to come to sit back at the table.
“Tomorrow?!” choking on your food a bit from the shock of this event being tomorrow.
“Yeah..”
“Well, now I really have to worry about what I’m going to wear. Shit.”
Todoroki stayed silent noticing that you were deep in thought trying so fervently to figure out what you were going to wear to this gala. You didn’t want to disappoint but at the same time, you didn’t want to make it seem like a big deal for Todoroki’s sake.
Suddenly, your eyes widened and you realized that you had the perfect thing to wear.
“Todoroki! I got it!”
“Huh? Got what?”
“What I’ll wear for tomorrow!”
Standing up from the table you walked into the bedroom speaking to him while walking away.
“Do you remember when I was making that Santa outfit but never wore it out because I was afraid it was too obnoxious? The one I based off that rich lady in the Grinch.”
Sliding the hangers to the side you were sifting through all your clothes trying to find this dress that you made a couple of years ago. Sliding over to the side of your clothes that you had your winter wear organized in you saw bright red fanned out on the floor of the closet. Bending down to pick up the fabric from the floor, your backside brushed up against something. Standing up with the dress in your hands you turned around to see Todoroki standing behind you. Holding the dress out to your side, Todoroki wrapped his arms around your waist. Your bright smile plastered across your face
“Look! I found it. I’m gonna have to go get a petticoat tomorrow so it lays right but I think it’ll work well! And I can find you something too while I’m out.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, baby. Wouldn’t wanna steal the show from my girl now would I?”
Dropping your arm that was holding the dress you wrapped your other around Todoroki’s neck. Threading your fingers at the base of his hair, massaging lightly into his scalp.
“No, I guess not.”
Smiling up at him, Todoroki lowered his head to meet your lips. Engulfing your lips in a tender kiss that warmed up your entire body. Every time he kissed you it felt like it was the first and you never wanted them to end. His lips were always somehow so soft and inviting. Pulling away and looking back up at him an idea popped in your head.
“Maybe we can just add a lil something to your tux then.”
With a small smile now on his face, he nodded his head in agreement. With a yawn beginning to dawn on him, your body followed suit against your will. A sudden wave of tiredness falling over you both. Stepping away from you, Todoroki began heading toward the bathroom.
“Why don’t we get ready for bed? I have to get up a little early to finish up the paperwork from today’s shift.”
Nodding slightly you followed him into the bathroom beginning your nightly routine. You finished before Todoroki and walked back into the bedroom. You picked your costume up from the pool it was in on the floor and hung it back up in the closet. The cheeky smile that spread across your face was something that didn’t slide past Todoroki when he came back into the bedroom.
“What’s got you smiling like that?” a breathy chuckled punctuated his question.
“Nothing really. Just thinking about how we’re gonna look tomorrow. I’m excited.”
Climbing into bed, you snuggled up into Todoroki as well as the sheets.
“Well don’t stay too excited, you gotta get your rest.”
Placing a kiss atop your head you told each other good night and Todoroki shut off the lights.
Waking up the next morning, you’d had gotten up a little later than you expected. You usually were able to catch him before he left. Throwing the sheets off yourself you stretched and tried to get yourself out of bed. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you opened up your phone and when you saw the time the leftover sleep left your body and you started getting ready in a hurry. It was almost noon and you still had to go out and grab a boutonnière for Todoroki and a petticoat for your dress. You got ready in record time and left your home to get said desired items. You wanted to be back in time to do your makeup and get properly dressed up and not be rushed for the event.
By the time you got back home, it was around 2:30pm. Who knew finding a mistletoe boutonnière would’ve been such a feat. Finally settling into the couch you let out a sigh a relief and your stomach let you know for the third time within the hour you should eat something. With a groan, you waddled into the kitchen and fixed yourself something quick to eat. Todoroki would be home around five so you had enough time to screw around a bit. After you finished up you looked at the clock and decided to start to get ready for the evening.
With your speaker blasting Christmas music you were clad only in black lingerie and adding the final touches to your makeup. Stepping back away from the mirror to get a full look at your face you smirked at yourself and went into the bedroom to get your dress and everything on. Pulling up your red fishnets and petticoat you walked over to the closet to grab the dress.
Slipping it on you fastened the belt and then bent over to grab your red heeled boots from the bottom of the closet. As you got the zipper up on the boots you heard the front door open, signaling that Todoroki just got in. You glanced over at the clock and noticed it was about 5:30pm.
‘Just in time’ you had thought to yourself. Todoroki called out for you and with a quick
“In here!”, you let him know that you were in the bedroom. You stood up and straightened yourself out while looking into the mirror embedded on the closet door.
“Wow.”
Turning your head to look at him you posed and smiled at him.
“Ya like?”
“Yes, my little ember. You look amazing.”
You walked a little closer to him wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt heat travel up into your face as his gaze seemed to pierce through you.
“I know what that look means, and you need to get ready, or otherwise we’ll be late.”
Planting a small kiss on his cheek you walked away and heard a small groan come from him which elicited a chuckle from you. While you were waiting for Todoroki to finish getting ready, you were stuck in front of the mirror in the main room deciding whether or not you wanted to add the Santa hat or not. You decided to keep it on hand and just put it on when you arrived at the gala. You didn’t want an indent in your hair to be too noticeable and if worse came to worse you would just have to fluff out your hair in the bathroom.
You heard the clearing of Todoroki’s throat and you looked behind you. He always looked so good in anything he was in. His black tuxedo fitted nicely against his body and his hair was slicked back, a few pieces falling loosely in the front.
“Well, look at you.” A cheeky smile following your words.
“You like?” Todoroki wore a smug smile referencing back to how you greeted him earlier. Catching on you continued the charade.
“Yes, very much. But, I have something to make it even better.”
Walking into the kitchen where you dumped your findings from your outing earlier, you grabbed the mistletoe boutonnière. Going back over to Todoroki you began to pin the boutonnière onto the lapel of his tux.
“I told you I was going to find you something to make it a little festive. So now, whenever I come next to you a part of me will be under you. So I’ll just have to kiss you.”
Finishing pinning it onto his lapel, you looked up at him, his heterochromatic eyes seeming to sparkle with a new endearment to bestow upon you.
“Very funny, now let’s get going.” He pressed a kiss on top of your head and you stretched back to grab your hat and clutch that you left on the counter and walked out the door.
The drive to the venue was quiet but that was nothing out of the ordinary. What was though was Todoroki’s hand on your thigh occasionally squeezing at the plushness of them. You were smirking to yourself trying your best to keep your composure, but he gave your leg one particularly hard squeeze and you pressed your legs together out of habit.
“You alright?”
You could hear the smirk in his voice but you refused to give into him this early, you hadn’t even pulled up yet. Clearing your throat you fixed yourself in your seat
“Yeah, great actually baby.” Moving your hand onto his thigh closest to you you asked him,
“You excited for it?”
“Yeah, I think it’ll be fun for the both of-” You had grazed your hand across his lap, running over his clothed sex to reach his other thigh and give it a squeeze causing his breath to hitch.
“Guess I should’ve known that was coming sooner or later.” An airy chuckled left him but you knew that you had him right where you wanted him. Pulling up to the venue, he parked the car.
Stepping out you grabbed your clutch and hat, staring into the tinted side window to place your hat where you wanted it. While checking yourself in your makeshift mirror, Todoroki came up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. Nestling his chin into your neck
“You look so beautiful, baby.”
“I know, now let’s go in so everyone can see.” You knew where he was attempting to go with his compliments but at least wanted to experience a little bit of the gala before your makeup would be indubitably ruined. The both of you walked up to the hall this event was being held in and you could hear Christmas music blasting. The doors of the hall were open so you knew exactly where to go.
Stepping in the hall looked like a winter wonderland. There was soft blue lighting throughout, snowflake and icicle decorations hanging from the ceiling. Centerpieces on the tables were filled with snowbrushed branches and accents of green. And of course in looking at the scenery in front of you, you failed to noticed the mistletoe hanging above you and Todoroki’s heads until Midoriya came up to greet you guys.
“Hey! Todoroki, Y/N, how are you guys.”
“We’re doing great, it’s really good to see you Izuku!” You moved to go and hug him but he backed away slightly.
“I can’t step under there with you Y/N, Todoroki is right there.” A nervous laugh left him but the overtone of joy covered it up.
“What do you mean?” Looking up you noticed the mistletoe and then glanced at Todoroki
“Oh, that’s what he means.” Todoroki verbalizing your thought. With a quick kiss to Todoroki you moved back over to Midoriya giving him a hug.
“You’re still such a goofball, I love it.” As you two were giggling you looked over at Todoroki who signaled to you that he was being motioned over with some work friends. Giving him a nod you hung around Midoriya for the moment.
“You wanna grab a drink? They have this killer spiked eggnog, you can’t even taste the alcohol.”
Raising your eyebrow you lightly elbowed Midoriya
“Sounds like my kinda thing.”
While walking up to the bar, you noticed Bakugou hunched over scouring the floor of the hall. He hadn’t noticed you yet so you picked up your steps and called out to him.
“Hey! Kaachan!”
An audible groan left his mouth, cutting through the music that was blasting through the speakers. You knew that nickname pinched a nerve in him and seeing his reaction killed you every time. You came up closer to him and enveloped him in tight hug.
“Oh c’mon don’t be like that. You know I can’t resist screwing with you.”
“Yeah yeah, now get off me.”
“Not until you give me a proper hug you dumbass”
Reciprocating the hug with one arm you stepped back and he finally got a full look at your outfit. Lifting his glass to his face he motioned to you
“Nice outfit.”
“Right! I finally had a place to put it to use to.”
Midoriya had chimed into the conversation now, “That’s the dress from the live action Grinch right?”
“Yeah! God I love that movie.”
Sitting up on the stool next to Bakugou, you asked for some of that eggnog Midoriya was raving about. You spun around so you could face both Midoriya and Bakugou while at the same time trying to spot Todoroki in the crowd of people. You spotted him chatting with Momo and a few other people that you assumed he’d done work with.
You hadn’t noticed that Midoriya had walked over to Todoroki, you were too busy wrapped up in your thoughts at the moment. You sucked your teeth and a small sudden wave of jealousy was flowing over you. While in your head you turned your head to see your drink waiting on the bar counter and you took a big gulp of it.
“God damn Y/N, did you even taste it.” Bakugou teased you.
“Yeah I tasted it. Midoriya was right saying you couldn’t even taste the alcohol. Shit is like juice.” You laughed trying your best to cover up your jealousy with alcoholic tendencies and low rate jokes.
Bakugou noticed the quick change in your behavior and tried to follow to where your eyes were boring holes into. Once he saw Todoroki and Momo sitting a little too close for comfort he understood the current state of upset you were in.
“Stop staring at it, it’s just gonna make you more upset. It’s probably nothing anyway.”
“Staring at what-”
“Todoroki and Momo. You couldn’t hide your emotions to save your life Y/N”
“Guess you’re right about that.”
Sighing you swiveled the chair back around ordering another glass in a piss poor attempt to keep your nerves at ease and not think about the scene in front of you. You trusted Todoroki and never even thought of him having ill intentions with you.
You just felt a little competition with Momo considering they went to school together, she was stunning and he once had a crush on her that you found out not too long ago. It was all too much for you to process in the moment and Bakugou was attempting to figure out what to do to pull you out of your funk. Putting his glass on the counter he put his his arm on your shoulder.
“Look, you’re too pretty and look too nice to be feeling like this.”
Standing up he held his hand out to you and looked up toward the speakers,
“And by the sound of things, seems like it’s the perfect time to share a dance. So, care to dance with me?”
A small smile spreading across your face, you chugged the rest of your glass of eggnog and took his hand.
“I’m never gonna forget that.”
“Oh shut up.” Lightly laughing you trailed behind Bakugou leading you to the floor. Sia’s Snowman was coming through the speakers and you seemed to forget what it was you were upset about while swaying with Bakugou. He seemed to catch onto this and looked down to you only to be met with your eyes looking up at him with that of a doe.
“Thank you.”
“Oh don’t start with that I just didn’t want to sit with someone mopey.”
You nudged him while still swaying to the music
“Oh whatever, I’m still thanking you.” He looked down at you again
“Try not to think about it too much. He’s still somehow ridiculously oblivious to things and doesn’t think about stuff like that too deeply. He doesn’t mean nothing by it. Wanna go get another drink and go over there?”
“Sure why not.”
Getting your drinks you walked over to the group of people you had become acquainted with through Todoroki. Old school friends of his that you seemed to flawlessly get along with. Walking in front of Bakugou you heard him mumbling about something.
“What’d ya say?”
“Why are you walking in front of me?”
“Seriously?! That’s why you’re making all that noise.” You knew he screwing with you and you just waved your hand and walked over to the group. When you got there you noticed Todoroki wasn’t there anymore. Momo was the first to greet you out the group.
“Hi Y/N! How are you, it’s been so long.” She was also in a Santa dress but less dramatic than yours. She had a cute little santa hat headband to top it all off.
“I’m doing great! And you look gorgeous as always. This is a little off topic but do you know where Shoto went? I needed to ask him something.”
“I think he went to the bathroom. If you go to the back of the hall and turn left that’s where they are.”
“Okay cool, thank you. I’ll be right back!” You announcned to the rest of the group and they all nodded you off, acknowledging your absence. Walking to the bathrooms you went to turn into the hallway but instead turned into boyfriend.
“Oh there you are, I just coming to look for you.”
His demeanor seemed unreasonably sharp and you couldn’t place whether he was mad at you or something else.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing why don’t you go hang up on Bakugou again.”
Your face contorted in surprise and complete shock about how he was addressing the situation. He tried to walk away but you grabbed his wrist.
“Hold on, you’re not gonna jab at me like that then walk away. If it bothered you that much why didn’t you just come up and switch with him. I didn’t come up to you because it seemed like you were enjoying yourself chatting with Momo and everyone and I didn’t want to interrupt. That’s all.”
“It’s a little hard to pay attention to a conversation when I’m focused on you dancing with another man, let alone it being someone I’m close to.”
With that he walked away from you and back to the group from before. You watched him in disbelief, in absolute shock about what just happened. You took a deep breath and huffed walking back to group as well, instead when you arrived you didn’t sit on the couch next to Todoroki but rather leaned on the back of the couch standing over everyone.
Looking up you saw Bakugou coming back with two drinks in his hands. He looked down at the couch and noticed Midoriya slumped out on the couch, unsure if he was sleeping or trying to focus himself on not making a mess everywhere.
“Got this for him, but I think this is that last thing he needs so you can have it.” You smiled a thank you and continued chatting with everyone. You looked over at Todoroki who’s face was blank but his eyes held a fury that was unmistakable to you. You grabbed your phone out of your clutch to send him a text but he didn’t respond, let alone look at his phone. You sighed and excused yourself to the bathroom this time actually having to go. When you left you ran into Todoroki waiting in the hallway.
“Hey…”
“Save it, we’ll talk about it later.”
Mumbling an okay you walked back to the group slightly stumbling, all the eggnogs finally catching up with you. You took a detour to the bar to get a water to try and balance everything out. While sitting up at the bar Bakugou came up beside you.
“What’s up with him?”
“He’s upset with me for dancing with you. Guess he does think pretty deeply about these things.” You rolled your eyes not having the energy to put more thought into your partners antics, knowing that if you did you’d completely ruin the rest of your mood. You looked up towards the group and saw Todoroki giving what looked like his goodbyes to everyone. You swiveled back to face Bakugou
“This blows, but at least I looked cute while it happened.” Shaking your head you took another sip of your water.
“That you did.”
You looked at him through your lashes, unamused knowing that he was part of the reason you were in the predicament that you were in. Chuckling to yourself you spoke one more time
“This will make for a funny memory in retrospect but right now I’m so over it.”
The two of you were lightly laughing with each other when Todoroki made his way up to you too.
“I’ll be taking her now.”
Whipping your head to him you couldn’t believe the way he was speaking.
“I’m sorry who the fuck is her?” The alcohol making you a little more loose lipped than normal as well as bringing your bubbling frustrations of the evening to the forefront. Bakugou snorted at the sight in front of him and got up from the bar
“See ya around Y/N. Call me.”
“See ya man.”
Todoroki was glaring at the two of you and the ending interaction before he turned on his heel with your hand in his. Completely numb to the situation and with the help from alcohol you were almost a blank slate, not really thinking about anything that was going on.
“Can you stop walking so fast, please, baby?” You were met with silence until you got to his car. Mumbling to yourself you didn’t think he’d hear you but to your surprise he did.
“If you’re gonna say something, say it so I can hear it.”
“Oh will you quit the act already. I was dancing with him I didn’t fuck him Shoto.”
“Sure looked like you wanted to with the way you were looking at him-
“-And I could say the same about you and Momo but you ain’t see me throw a fuckin hissy fit about it Sho! All up on her n shit, give me a break. Let’s just go home.”
You grabbed the door handle and let yourself in the passengers side sitting in silence when Todoroki got in and started the car. The tension in the car couldn’t be sliced with the sharpest blade, it was so thick it was almost suffocating. You took your hat off and fluffed your hair out in an attempt to hide that you were trying to get a look at him. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white and his veins were jutting out from his hand.
You couldn’t deny that that sight alone was enough to send your mind spiraling elsewhere, but you couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that was beginning to well up in you. Pulling up into the driveway the two of you continued the silent treatment to each other. Walking inside the house you slipped off your heels, your feet relieved to be let out of their cages. You walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water but didn’t get the chance to make it to the fridge because Todoroki had come up behind you caging you to the countertop.
“Sho, I don’t have the energy for this right now”
Moving his hand to your waist he spun you around to face him
“So you have the energy to pay attention to Bakugou but can’t give me the time of day.”
“Oh fuck you.”
Moving yourself out from under his arms you moved to go to the fridge but once again Todoroki interrupted you plans. This time it was with his hands around your waist pulling you into him.
“I think you might want to rethink your choice of words baby. It’s not wise to upset me further.”
“What are you gonna do-punish me? Please.” Scoffing you tried to move away from him but his grip on you was tighter than you expected. All of this was too much and you were trying your hardest to keep your arousal at bay. You hated fighting with him but something about the way he was going about this was making your brain spark.
“Is that what you want? Cause I think it can be arranged.”
“Actually what I want is for you to be an adult about this and to stop acting lik-”
“Shut up.”
“What?!”
Catching you off guard he pressed his lips against yours the sexual tension finally dispersing between you too. The frustration and anger of the situation being displayed through the fiery kiss between you two. Todoroki picked you up and placed you on the counter top, his hand trailing up your back and landing at the base of your neck, lacing his fingers into the bottom of your hair.
Your hands planted on his chest pulling at the fabric of his jacket trying to bring him as close as possible to you. He pulled away from your lips and moved down to your neck finding you sweet spot immediately. He sucked on it until it seemed like it would hurt if he did for a second longer. He moved down to the plunged neckline of your dress and attacked the top of your breast that was exposed. With an airy moan escaping you you found yourself giving up on fighting him.
“Sho~ baby please.”
“I thought I told you to be quiet.”
You were almost caught off guard by his response but instead was caught off by him picking you up off the counter and carrying you into the bedroom. When he plopped you on the bed, his boutonnière fell on top of you landing in your lap.
“Now would you look at that. Guess I have to kiss what under it huh? Scoot back for me baby”
Moving back, Todoroki ran his hands up and down your thighs. His lips began kissing up your thighs while he was squeezing the sides of them. When he came close to your heat he breathed on it, pressing his nose into your clit but instead of finishing the job he moved to your other thigh teasing you.
“Shoto please, I need you. You can’t keep teasing me like this.”
Lifting his head up from in between your legs he looked up at you.
“For someone who is the reason why we’re here in the first place, what makes you think you can order me around like that.” Cocking his eyebrow he awaited your answer, but your answer never came because he was teasing your clit. Rubbing his finger lightly up and down between your folds you couldn’t focus on your words.
“That what I thought. Now shut the fuck up and let me do my work.”
With that he ripped at your red fishnets creating a hole right where your panties resided. You went to scold him for ripping your tights but before you could say anything he had used his quirk to singe off your panties leaving you bare in his wake.
“Now, I know you can’t stay quiet for long, but I want you to try your hardest to keep quiet for me baby. Okay?”
You nodded vigorously looking down at him. He took that as his cue and licked a fat slow strip between your lips. Your breath hitched but you kept your silence. When he began circling your clit that when his request became a little more difficult to complete. Picking up his pace he began lapping at your clit making you lose your composure. A moan slipped past your lips. You began bucking your hips into him signaling that you were close to you release, something you should’ve held out on because Todoroki stopped his movements. Bringing his head up to face you he smirked
“See, you can keep quiet. All night you’ve been running your mouth but apparently you only listen when my mouth is on you. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but please Sho, please I wanna cum so bad.”
“Don’t worry my little ember, I’ll let you get to your release. You just have to listen to what I say. This time make as much noise as you want. I want to know how good I’m making you feel”
With the tip of his tongue he licked a quick strip across your clit, making you squirm on your back
“Fuck!”
Chuckling to himself he began lapping at your clit again. Creating figure eights you lost all your senses. You completely gave into him and couldn’t hold back. Moaning, you were writhing in tempo with his tongue lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Your drenched hole began to flutter and heat started to flow to the lower end of your stomach.
Overwhelmed with your orgasm your body convulsed against Todoroki, but he didn’t stop. He kept thrashing his tongue against your overstimmed cunt. Panting and moaning you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to lift him away from you but he wrapped his arms around your hips locking you to the bed and his face.
“Shoto, fuck! It’s too much, I-I can’t take it.”
Instead of responding, Todoroki hummed against your pussy the vibrations sending you into your second orgasm. You screamed out Todoroki’s name unable to handle the stimulation running through your body. Todoroki finally lifted himself from your legs, staring at you like a predator does its prey.
“Didn’t know you could do that baby.” A smirk stretching across his face while he removed himself of his jacket and dress shirt.
“Do what-” You cut yourself off suddenly feeling a cold wet spot on the inside of your thigh. The realization of you squirting on his face threw you into a moment of embarrassment where you almost forgot he was in the room.
“Baby, stay with me. Cause I’m not done with you yet. You have a lot to make up for for the stunts you pulled back at the gala. Don’t you think?”
Kissing you, you tasted the tang of yourself fresh on his tongue. You slid your tongue across his lip, asking for permission and he obliged. Your tongues danced a waltz that only you two knew the steps to. The fire from the both of you radiated off each other and fueled the jealousy ridden passion from tonight. Pulling away from you, he trailed his deft fingers down the valley of your exposed breasts and stopped at the belt of your dress.
“I think it’s time for this to go.”
Gently taking your articles of clothing off you sat up from your flattened position of the bed and pulled your arms from the sleeves. You wrapped your arms around Todoroki pulling him back into the bed and flipped yourself onto of him. You heard his shoes hit the ground and you began working on his neck. Sucking a small hickey onto the skin right underneath his collar bone. Grinding yourself into him you felt his bulge begging to be set from the confinements of his pants.
Sliding yourself off of him you fumbled with the button of his pants and pulled them off along with his underwear. Taking advantage of your current position you were going to try your hardest to stay in control of it. Coming back up to kiss Todoroki you felt in between your legs for his length and positioned it at your entrance.
His head was enough to make you go feral, making you want nothing but the rest of him. Hearing Todoroki’s breath hitch was just enough encouragement to push you to fully bottom out on him. The both of you groaned in pleasure at the sensation.
“Fuck you feel so good wrapped around me, baby. Feel good on me. Use me and only me. You’re mine and I’m yours remember that.”
Though you knew what he meant, his last statement almost rubbed you the wrong way and brought back the frustrations from before. He was still bringing it up and you were getting sick of it. Rolling your hips back and forth on him you decided to use him to your full advantage.
Finding your rhythm you bounced up and down on his cock. Focused on your pleasure and also taking out your emotions on him. His moans were so blissful though that you couldn’t help but be intoxicated by him at this moment.
“Y/N, you’re so good, Fuck! Keep doing that ah~”
Feeling a sudden wave of confidence flood through you you decided to see how far you could take this position of control with him.
“Yeah, you like that? You’re the only one that gets it. Not Bakugou, nobody but you.” With a ballsy move, you wrapped your hand around his neck and choked him. It didn’t last long though. Within a second you were flipped over, Todoroki hovering over you with sheer lust adorning his eyes. His hand wrapped around your neck, fingers pressing into the blood vessels on either side of your neck.
“Don’t say his fuckin name while I’m inside you. You think of me and only me. Understand?”
Nodding quickly you recognized your reign of power was now over. Todoroki then slid his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into you kissing your cervix with blatant ferocity.
“Fuck! Sho! Fuck fuck fuck”
Panting you were desperately looking for something to grab hold of. You shoved your hands into the sheets of the bed before slamming your nails into his back. The pace he set was vicious, clearly taking out his frustration on you.
“All night it’s been about him but right now I want all your focus on me. You belong to me Y/N.”
Grabbing your face he squished your cheeks together forcing your lips to pucker.
“Look at me while I fuck you. Burn this into your memory of who makes you feel this fucking good.”
You looked at him and felt yourself about to reach your peak. Your fluttering alerted Todoroki to your climax and he pulled out.
“Sho, please. Please don’t do this to me again.”
“Hush and get on your hands and knees.”
Flipping yourself over, you pressed your face into the mattress and wiggled your ass in the air, waiting for Todoroki to line himself up with your sopping hole.
“There you go, give me those hips. Ahh, fuck baby.”
Again his pace was unrelenting. The fat on your ass rippled with each contact of his hips.
“Come on, you know how to fuck me. Show me you deserve it.”
Todoroki tangled his hand into your hair and brought you up so your back lay flush against his chest.
“I’m gonna dog fuck you, fill you up with so much of me that you don’t even have time to look at someone else without thinking of me. Every time you think of me you’re gonna think about my cum dripping out of you. Now, who do you belong to.”
“You.”
“Who? Sorry I didn’t hear a name”
“You, Shoto fuck! It’s you, it’s only ever gonna be you. Fucking hell.”
“There it is baby. You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? That’s why you’ve been mouthing me off. Well, fuckin take it.”
Letting loose of his grip on your hair and submissiveness taking full control of you, you began whining into the sheets. His cock attacking your walls was sending you into a space of mindlessness.
“Sho- please, please can I cum. I need to cum so bad.”
“Go ahead baby, squeeze all the cum out of me. I’m gonna make you mine in every sense of the word.”
His thrusts began to falter and became deeper and slower. With one final thrust, you came around him, your pussy dancing around his cock milking him of his seed.
“Fuck! Holy-”
“Y/N shit~”
Todoroki stilled inside you, hovering over your body while you collapsed into the bed, exhausted mentally and physically. As Todoroki pulled out of you, you felt so empty but didn’t have the energy to move anymore.
As if he could read your mind Todoroki picked you up and pulled you toward the top of the bed rest you on a few pillows. He stood up to walk to the bathroom and grab a warm towel to clean you up. Coming back into the room he kneeled down to your core, gently cleaning your sensitive areas.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No, I’m okay, just keep doing that. It feels nice actually” Sighing you let your body fully relax into the mattress underneath you. Todoroki stood up and tossed the towel into the hamper and came back to lay on the bed with you. Giving your poor attempt at grabby hands due to your exhaustion he chuckled and slid next to you. Grabbing your hand in his he rubbed his thumb over the side of your hand.
You scooted closer to him moving his arm so you could lay your head on his chest. With all the attitude having left your body you were completely soft with him.
“Are you still mad at me?”
Instant regret filled him, all of his actions from the night finally catching up with him.
“Y/N, I could never stay mad at you. Sometimes I don’t realize how much I ignore my emotions. I’m sorry for having you be at the receiving end of my frustrations. I just can’t bear the thought of losing you. You mean so much to me.”
“It’s okay, at least the sex was good. I would just hate you ever truly being mad at me and I wanted to make sure.”
“Y/N. I am thoroughly and undoubtedly obsessed with you. You’re my little ember and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I couldn’t ask for anything more in life because you’ve given me everything I could’ve ever wanted.”
With a smile across your face and sleep beginning to take over your eyelids, you tried your best to stay up with him while he confessed himself to you.
“You know I’ll love you forever Sho.”
Todoroki looked down at you with a dubious gaze trying to pick apart your affirmation.
“Forever?”
“Forever Shoto.”
“Good, because I could use a bit of forever in my life.”
#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia smut#todoroki x reader#todoroki smut#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto x reader#my hero academia
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| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |
↪ ✦ spells ✦
this chapter pairing; wizard!hoshi x reader
genre&warnings; wizard!hoshi, softdom!hoshi, oral(fem receiving), virgin!reader, fingering, good ‘ol lighthearted fucking😩, squirting.
notes; lets be real hoshi with magical abilities would be chaos kjdfhkdf🥴 also I know, I know, I wish I could hyperlink the previous chapters into each post but tumb1r rly seems to fuckin hate my account and hides my posts from tags for no reason as it is and RLY hates it when I start hyperlinking posts with the same links so I'll just try to keep my series masterlist updated from here on out!! you can also find my monster mash fics with the hashtag monstermash!svt on my blog!🎃💕 Thank you as always for your continued interest and see you tomorrow~! 👻
word count; ~2800
chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x
boy you put your spell on me, there’s something about you;
‘cause even in the sleepless nights, i’m thinkin’ about you.
well i think it’s magic with you,
oh i think it’s magic.
yeah i think it’s magic with you.
You’ve known Soonyoung since the two of you were kids.
He played with you in the lavender fields and kept you company on rainy nights when the thunder scared you out of your wits.
Soonyoung lived in a cottage on the outskirts of the town now that the two of you were adults and he preferred to keep to himself; all things considered.
The townspeople weren’t really too fond of Soonyoung’s kind -- rumours of the magical beings causing havoc and destruction more prevalent than anything else.
And for that reason alone, you most often offered to help Soonyoung gather necessities from the town and in trade, he would let you hang around his cottage while he would work on restoring old spell books. He almost never actually cast any spells or showed you anything he could do with his magic, but you were patient and understanding of his uncommon situation.
And not only do you know Soonyoung, but you liked Soonyoung.
Even though he seemed quite oblivious to the fact.
You shake your head in thought, picking out a few more apples and adding them to your basket before you start the long walk towards Soonyoung’s cottage.
You soon see the smoke billowing from the chimney of Soonyoung cottage; jogging up the steps as you fish for the spare key he’d given you.
When you enter, the smell of cinnamon and old books welcomes you in like it’s your own and you immediately head for the kitchen to start setting aside the groceries you’d gotten. “Soonyoung!? Where are you?” You yell, giving it a second for him to respond. You’re met with silence, confusion written all over your features.
It was quite unlike Soonyoung to be missing when he knew you were coming.
You look around the kitchen, finding a warm kettle filled with tea. He must’ve just stepped out for a second.
Shaking your head, you reach for a cup on the countertop, fixing yourself a cup of tea as you wait for Soonyoung to come back from wherever he had gone. You take a sip, sighing in contentment at the warmness that floods your system.
You quickly down the rest of the cup, setting it back onto the counter as you make your way towards his bedroom in hopes of finding him.
“Soonyoung? Where are you?” An odd feeling washes over you the further you walk into his house, unable to find a single hint of where he could be. He was almost always in the living area or the kitchen when you came by.
You knock on his bedroom door as you call out his name again; still not getting a reply back even when you slowly pry the door open.
He’s nowhere to be found, so you take a seat on top of his bed, brows furrowed. Where on earth?
You decide to lay down for a second, removing your shoes and outer clothes before resting your head on the pillow.
Surely Soonyoung wouldn’t mind, seeing as he’s not even here.
Your eyelids feel heavier than usual; yawning loudly as you get comfortable.
When you wake up, you don’t know how much time has pass or if time has passed at all.
All you know is that it’s unbearably hot.
“Wh--what…” You mumble, sitting up as you wipe the sweat from your brow. A soft moan floats out of your mouth, body filled with a certain warmth you only knew when you were thinking about Soonyoung late at night.
“What is going on…”
You clench your jaw, hiking your dress further and further up until you can run your fingertips over your clothed cunt; finding yourself already soaking through the material as it sticks to you like a second skin. “What---”
A sharp door slam knocks you out of your confusion as you hurriedly push your dress down. You hear Soonyoung yelling your name a second later, biting your lip to keep in the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth.
What was going on!?
Soonyoung comes to view as he steps into the doorway; a crimson blush on his cheeks when he finds you in his bed.
“What did you do?” He whispers, barely loud enough for you to catch it.
“S--Soonyoung…” You whimper, unable to keep your voice straight as another gush of wetness pools in your panties. “I--s--something’s weird…”
“Did---did you drink… the tea in the k-kettle…” You nod shakily, tears pooling in your eyes. “I---was I not s-supposed to?”
Soonyoung exhales harshly as he steps into the bedroom, closing it behind him as he sits across from you on the bed. “How much did you drink of it?”
“A--a cup…?”
“A whole cup?”
“Y-yeah…”
Soonyoung grimaces, “That was… an aphrodisiac. I--I used my magic to make it stronger, I didn’t think---I didn’t think it’d work…”
Fuck.
You let out a small mewl, thighs rubbing together underneath your dress. “Why were you m-making that, S-Soonyoung?”
A blush coats his cheeks, suddenly embarrassed. Why exactly?
“No reason, I just---I got curious. I wasn’t… expecting you so early so I stepped out to get more herbs from Minghao’s garden. I was supposed to have it set away before you came.”
A tense silence falls over the two of you, neither of you making a move. Soonyoung clears his voice a few moments later, “I---I might be able to undo it with a spell but I’m not sure if it’ll work. I never tried it before and---and I don’t really know how to fix this, if I’m being honest.”
This time it’s your turn to blush, desperation clear on your features when you lock eyes with the said male.
“Can---can you h-help me… Soonyoung?”
He feels his cock throb in his pants, hands balling up into fists in his lap. “I--I can’t do that to you. You don’t even see me that way and I… I’ll go through the spell books, there has to be---”
“God, please! Soonyoung, I need you! Please, I-if it’s… If it means anything to you, I--I do like you…”
He clenches his jaw, taking in your blown out pupils and flushed cheeks. “You… like me?”
“I--yes… For a while now, actually.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” He asks, fingertips itching to strip himself of his clothes. “I guess I shouldn’t pry. I didn’t say anything either, did I sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
Your heart pangs in your chest at the sudden pet name, thighs clamping together harder when his voice drops an octave. “Soonyoung, please…”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
This wasn’t necessarily Soonyoung’s ideal situation when it came to telling you his feelings.
He would’ve much preferred something romantic and not you accidentally downing one of his experiments.
“Ah, Soon---Soonyoung, more, m-more!” Your hips buck up, trying to get him to go faster. He slowly flicks at your clit with his tongue, using his hands to keep your body firm against the sheets. “Stop moving, or I’ll stop, sweetheart.” A choked cry bubbles past your lips, fingers itching to lock into his soft hair. He senses your urges, lips settling into a grin when he stops to look up at you.
“Say, you’re always complaining I never show you any of my magic.” He starts, “I’ll show you something really cool.”
He mumbles words you can’t seem to catch and in an instant, you feel your arms pinned to your sides and a pressure on your hips that keeps you still. “I didn’t think I’d need to use that spell quite like this but…” Soonyoung chuckles under his breath, leaning back down as he goes back to flicking your clit with his tongue.
“But---but Soonyoung… Please… Your f-fingers…”
“Oh? Do you want me to use my fingers while I make you feel good with my tongue?” You nod, licking your chapped lips when he stares up at you from between your legs. You had to get him to do more somehow.
“Y-yeah… I--I use my fingers all the time when I’m thinking about y-you…” That should do it.
Soonyoung goes rigid, cock throbbing against the sheets underneath him. “You… what?” You whimper, struggling against the invisible spell that binds you to the bed. “Mmhmm… I’d--I’d show you but I can’t… So you have to…” He shakes his head, bringing his fingers to his mouth before he wraps his lips around them. He makes sure they’re significantly wet before he positions two at your entrance.
“You really got me there, huh, sweetheart?”
A high pitched whine falls from your lips when he starts to sink in his digits; your wetness making it easy for him to sink them knuckle deep on the first try. “Oh, god! Soonyoung!” He’s mildly shocked at how wet you are and how tight your pussy is around his fingers, but he quickly finds a pace you like as he starts thrusting his fingers inside of you. “So you think about me? What exactly do you think about?”
He curls his fingers, watching your lips part in a silent scream when he grazes against your g-spot. “Sweetheart, I asked you a question. I expect a response, okay?”
“I---s--sometimes it’s just, mmh, like---like this… With your fingers deep inside me, making me feel so g-good… But--but sometimes, ah, I--it’s me on your l-lap…” You pause, abdomen tightening with each passing second. “You’re usually really s-sweet in my imagination but…”
“But?”
“But some--ngh, sometimes you… punish me t-too… when I go through your things without your p-permission… Mmh, and---and sometimes you use your magic, just like thi--this to keep me in my place... Oh, god, Soonyoung please, I’m so close!”
He grits his teeth, thumb on your clit in an instant. “Oh? So you want me to use my magic to make you feel good? Okay.” Grinning, he focuses some of his energy into the pad of his thumb; rubbing harsh circles on the swollen nub as you cry out.
It felt like electricity was coursing through your body, tingles going up and down your spine as you cum hard on his fingers. Soonyoung’s name rolls off of your tongue and he can’t help but watch and think how pretty you were when you were cumming.
“Cute.”
Soonyoung recites a spell in the midst of your orgasm and you feel your body go slack when the invisible restraints finally free you. He sits up, slowly pulling his fingers from inside of you and he brings them to his mouth, licking off your wetness as you watch him through teary eyes.
“Soonyoung, I’m still…”
“I know, baby.”
He repositions himself between your legs, spreading your legs wide. “If it hurts---”
You groan loudly, reaching down as you hold yourself open for him. “Soonyoung, I bet you could just slide right in with how soaking wet I am… Look at me...” He shoots you an amazed look as he freezes momentarily.
“I---what did that aphrodisiac do to you, baby?” Soonyoung wraps a hand around his cock, spreading the precum down his shaft as he positions himself at your entrance. “Seriously though, just tell me if it hurts, okay?” You nod in return; letting your arms rest at your side again.
Soonyoung slowly inches his cock into your tight cunt, a groan on his lips at how tightly you were already clenching around him. “Oh, fuck…” He whispers.
He bottoms out in a single motion, slow and steady. The head of his cock taps against your g-spot and you find yourself chasing another orgasm as he lets you get used to his size.
“Please, move!” You cry, squirming underneath him. He tsk’s you in return, leaning over as he grips your thighs. “Baby, don’t make me bind you again. You’re doing so well for me already.” He draws his hips back before thrusting in, starting a moderate pace when he notes that you’d already gotten used to him.
“You’re so wet for me, baby. Is it the aphrodisiac or is it me?” Soonyoung jokes. Although he, too, can feel himself already on the edge just as quickly. He wouldn’t tell you now, but he thought about you quite often too.
“Maybe I should’ve taken some with you.”
“Ngh, we’d be at it like r-rabbits…”
“Wouldn’t that be fun? On a night like All Hallow’s Eve, when my powers are much stronger. Imagine how good I could make you feel then, hmm?”
You let out a sob; pussy clenched hard around his cock as you feel yourself on the brink of another orgasm. “N-no, ‘cause I---I already know I’m gon--gonna need more after this… My body’s still so h-hot…”
Soonyoung takes pity, leaning over you as he kisses your tear-stained cheek. “I’ll work you through it, baby. Don’t worry.” The two of you fall into a silence; only the sounds of your moans, his soft breaths, and the snap of his hips bouncing off of the walls of his bedroom. He can feel you get immensely tight around him as he grips your thighs a little harder.
“Oh, Soon--Soonyoung I--”
“It’s okay, baby. Go on.”
This time when you cum, the pressure feels ten times as strong as the first time. You can hear ringing in your ears as your back bows off of the bed and you can vaguely feel Soonyoung’s cock forced out of your pussy in the midst of your orgasm. Tears wet your eyelashes as you cry out his name in a jumbled fashion; body rigid against the sheets.
“Oh--shit, baby…” Soonyoung watches as you squirt all over him and the sheets underneath you; hand wrapped around his cock as he watches your face contort in pleasure. He gulps, bringing his cock back towards you as he runs it through your folds until it nudges against your overly sensitive clit. “Such a good girl for me. You’re doing so well, baby.”
He taps the head of his cock against your swollen clit, watching as your body jolts with every tap. “Soonyoung…”
“How are you feeling?” He asks, jerking himself off over your body as your hazy eyes meet his. “A little better… But…” You trail off, watching him thrust up into his own closed fist. “You look so good...” He hums in response, tightening his fist.
“I’m so close, baby…”
“Make yourself feel good too, Soonyoung… Wanna see you make a mess on me~” You spur him on; filthy words on your lips as you watch his brows furrow. “And I’m still gonna want more too~ But I wanna see you get me nice and messy first~”
He lets out a groan, cock throbbing in his hold as he cums; streaks of cum hitting your lower abdomen. “Ngh, baby…” You mewl, fingertips already running through the warm liquid as you bring it back to your mouth.
You lick off the salty substance, immediately going in for more as Soonyoung’s own fuzzy eyes focus on your movements. “What--what are you d-doing?”
“Cleaning~” You quip, popping the cum soaked fingers into your mouth as you moan.
“God, did that aphrodisiac turn you into a succubus? You’re insatiable!” He feels his eye twice as he starts to come down from his high; using his free hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.
You giggle cutely, licking your lips. “Are those even real? And for the record, maybe you shouldn’t have made the aphrodisiac in the first place for your little experiments and then maybe you shouldn’t have made it even more powerful with your spells!”
Soonyoung can only grimace in return; It kind of was his fault for leaving it unattended.
“I know, I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay? And no more weird experiments left out on the stovetop, I promise.”
Grinning, you lean up, ignoring the soaking mess underneath you and the cum drying on your abdomen as you push Soonyoung over until he lays on his back. He gulps as he watches you straddle his hips.
“You’re gonna make it up to me all night though, right, Soonyoung?”
#warlock!soonyoung#hoshi smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#soonyoung smut#hoshi scenarios#hoshi imagines#svt fic#seventeen fic#monstermash!svt#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung imagines#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#hoshi#soonyoung
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Why, why, why (5)
University student!Yuta x reader
Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups
Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.
A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp.
Warnings: n/a
Word count: 2.4K (this was originally two smaller parts but idk I thought they were quite small on their own so now they’re together hahah)
Part 5/11 (I think) First / Previous / Next
Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash @aiforyuu @fineapplehoe (let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)
One, two, three beers later and you were already spilling the tea between you and Yuta, and Jonghyun was more than happy to listen.
“Do you get it? I’m doing everything in my power to make him like me just a little. I don’t want Taeyong to go through all this because of us. He doesn’t deserve anything like this,” you complained.
“I didn’t know Yuta was so passive-aggressive.”
“He’s not. Or, at least I don’t think he is. I just feel like he’s trying to protect his friendship.”
“From you? It doesn’t make sense. I mean, I’ve only known you for a little while but I don’t think you’d want to get in the way of their friendship.” He was right. And he was supportive. And you couldn’t believe you were complaining to him about another guy.
“Okay, enough of this Yuta talk. It’s something that will probably be solved on its own. And we can’t spend all night talking about him, or my problems. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your friends, your interests, or anything you feel like represents you in any way.” You smiled, hoping he wasn’t already too tired.
“It felt really nice that you talked to me about it. If that’s not getting to know each other, then I don’t know what is.” He paused, took a sip of his drink and continued. “Well, if you’d like so much to know about me, you should know I love biographical movies with elements of fiction, but what I love most is movie soundtracks. Good movie soundtracks, to be exact, but definitely not musicals. They’re not really my thing. In fact, we usually plan movie nights for the entire campus. It’s a nice opportunity to get everyone together, even people from different departments. This Saturday we’re watching The Zodiac Killer.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve already been informed,” you chuckled. “Maybe we can go together, if you’d like.”
“I’d love to. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up around eight. Is that okay?” he asked.
“Perfect.”
As the night progressed, Jonghyun and you bonded quite a lot. He shared with you his love for cats, as well as a picture of his own cat that he adored. You loved how cute he looked when he talked about her, and even asked him to visit his place one day to meet her. Bold, but you were brave enough to do it.
It was getting late and you thought you had to return home at some point. It was your first date, after all. He obviously offered to walk you home and you were smart enough to accept. For the ten minutes it took you to reach your apartment, you continued talking. When you reached the front door, you stopped.
“This is it,” you said.
“We’re already here? That’s too bad.”
“What, you wanted it to be further?”
“No, it’s not that. I just had a great time and I didn’t really want the night to end.” He looked down as he said that, waiting to hear what you thought.
“I had a great time too,” you answered. “But I’ll see you again on Saturday, and your coffee is excellent, so I’ll definitely come by before class.” You both laughed, probably trying to hide a bit of your enthusiasm that you hit it off.
“See you on Saturday then?”
“Definitely.” You were about to unlock the door when he stopped you.
“Wait,” he said, and you were more than willing to.
“What is it-” he cut you off with a kiss, something you definitely didn’t expect. You were surprised for a second but soon returned the kiss. After a few seconds, you both pulled back. You could see him blushing, and that made you feel good. You knew he was just a shy boy that liked you, maybe a bit too much, but he made you feel good. That was all you wanted then.
You looked at each other and didn’t know what to say. You were the first one to break the silence, even though you were completely flustered yourself. “Goodnight,” you said, barely getting yourself together, before kissing him once more.
“Goodnight.”
You went inside your apartment and saw Taeyong sitting with the others, thankfully in the living room, so they couldn’t have seen you with Jonghyun.
“A bit late, aren’t we?” Taeyong teased you.
“Shut up… Do I say anything when you’re out on dates?” you laughed. You said hi to the others and went in your room to change. After a while, Taeyong came in.
“You know, Yuta told me you’re coming with us at the movie night this Saturday. Is that true?”
“Yeah, and Jonghyun will be there too. In fact, he’s picking me up.”
“We could have walked together, but at least I’ll get to open the door and see his face. Maybe even intimidate him a little.”
“Taeyong, are you serious? First of all, you’re the softest person I’ve ever met. How is it possible that you’ll ever intimidate anyone?” you chuckled.
“Thank you so much for the support. You’re a true friend. But, seriously, let me open the door and see his face.”
“Fine,” you agreed and saw the excitement on his face. “Anyway, you should tell your friends to come too.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell them tomorrow.” And so, it happened. You went to class the next day and told Chan, BamBam and Yugyeom, who were overjoyed. They were looking for an opportunity to get to know more people, but also see firsthand how things were between Jonghyun and you.
In the following days you didn’t see Jonghyun much, although you did spend a great part of your day texting him. You had a lot of classes and only saw him a bit when you stopped by the coffee shop to get some coffee, which you knew he made perfectly. You texted a lot though, but everything was quiet, at least until the night of the festival, when hell broke loose.
Chan had once more come over to help you pick out your outfit for the big night. The man had taste; you couldn’t deny that. You had decided on a blue dress with small flowers all over, just because the weather was still warm, and you wanted to dress to impress. What kind of date would it be if you didn’t want to mesmerize your date?
So, when the day came, you left Taeyong responsible for opening the door to Jonghyun, exactly like you promised, and went to your room to get ready. You had your wireless earphones on, so you couldn’t hear a thing of what was going on inside, so you took your time putting your makeup on and doing your hair. You had at least an hour before Jonghyun came to pick you up, and you definitely planned on taking some time to talk with Taeyong before your date came. Moral support was very much needed at times like these.
~ ☼ ~
In the living room, Taeyong was alone, scrolling through his phone. He was starting to get kind of bored when the doorbell rang. It was too early to be Jonghyun, so it could only be one other person.
“Yuta, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at uni helping the other students with preparations?” Taeyong’s wide eyes showed how shocked he was to have found him standing in front of his door.
“It wasn’t my turn today, so I thought I’d come and pick you guys up. See, I told Y/N to come with us too,” he said, trying to brush it off as quickly as he could.
“I know. I told her to bring her friends too. It’s a uni event either way, so I figured it would be nice for them to get to know each other more and meet new people.”
“True. They’re first years, you’re right. It’s hard enough that they’re just starting to live alone, let alone find new friends.”
“Exactly. Besides, Y/N will-” the phone rang. “Wait a sec, it’ll be quick.” And, just like that, Yuta was left alone in your living room, taking his regular seat on the couch. Two minutes later, he saw Taeyong trying to sign at him that this would take a little longer than expected, and to make himself comfortable, which he did for the next fifteen minutes. He went to the kitchen and grabbed some water, went back to his regular seat, and waited for both of you to come out of your rooms.
The doorbell rang.
Yuta thought he should answer the door, because you could have told some of your friends to come by your house before the movie. It made perfect sense. He opened the door with a smile, ready to greet your friends, as the one contact he had with Chan didn’t go that well, but he didn’t see what he expected to.
“Oh, Yuta, I didn’t know you’re Y/N’s friend!” Jonghyun said, smiling at him. “Now that I think about it, you know Taeyong, so that makes sense. Can I come in?”
Yuta stood aside for him to get in but couldn’t muster the courage to say one word to him. He would be there? He would take you to the movie night. It sounded about right, since you had just started dating, but something inside of him didn’t feel right. He knew you’d be with your friends, but with him too? That was pure treason. And treason for what? It wasn’t like he was expecting anything from you, was he?
He shook his head and turned to Jonghyun. “Y/N is still in her room and Taeyong had an important phone call, so can I get you anything?” He kept telling himself he had to be nice, normal. He had to be calm and composed.
“No, I’m good, thanks. No worries.” Jonghyun kept smiling at him, and it drove him crazy.
That was when Taeyong came out of the room. “Sorry, Yuta, Y/N’s mom wanted to check something about some bills, and I had to explain everything to her. Apparently, Y/N was too busy to pick up the phone today, if you know what I mean.” He sighed. He looked at Yuta, who didn’t reply to his comment, then he looked at Jonghyun, who was standing in the middle of the living room smiling at him. “Oh, hi! You must be Jonghyun!”
“Hello, Taeyong. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
After a few moments of silence, Taeyong took Jonghyun to the couch and started slowly interrogating him. He didn’t even know what he wanted to ask him, but he always felt protective as far as you were concerned. He was like your big brother. In the meantime, Yuta sat at the edge of the couch and didn’t say a word until you came out of your room.
“Taeyong, I swear to god if my mom calls you again, I’ll kill her.” You shout from down the hall. “She has to talk to me about this kind of stuff, she can’t keep bothering you when I don’t-” oh shit.
~ ☼ ~
It was the first time after an hour that you had taken off your earphones and felt ready enough to come outside and find Taeyong. You were hoping for some cheering up, but you soon realized that it was definitely out of question. As soon as you entered the living room, you knew you were fucked. You saw Taeyong sitting incredibly close to Jonghyun, who was early to pick you up, and standing as far away from them as possible was Yuta, who didn’t seem to be able to stop staring at you. In fact, all three men were unable to stop staring at you. Taeyong, with his puppy eyes, about to say that you had grown into a beautiful woman, until you gave him a death stare, and the other two seemed kind of…stuck.
Jonghyun was the first one to break the silence. “Y/N, hi. You look beautiful.” He smiled. God, you loved his smile. “Are you ready to go?”
You smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, just let me get my jacket.”
He greeted the others and went to wait outside. You grabbed your jacket and looked at Taeyong, who was smiling like an idiot. You knew that this was a good sign, and that he had liked Jonghyun, so you didn’t bother talking to him anymore. You looked at Yuta, who was still not moving. You were about to say hello, but he beat you to it. “Hello, Y/N. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Yuta, you don’t look bad yourself,” you said, and you knew you were lying, because he looked like a god to you. He was wearing a t-shirt and a leather jacket, with ripped jeans and various jewelry, which included the earrings that you liked the most on him. You didn’t move your eyes for a few seconds, and neither did he. Those few moments were filled with tension, which Taeyong picked up and broke off, or else there would have been casualties. “Come on, Y/N, your date is waiting for you!” You nodded and left, leaving the two together. You hoped you’d find them both alive when the movie started.
You walked a bit with Jonghyun, and when you were in a big enough distance from your house, you turned to him and kissed him gently. You didn’t know if this was too rushed, as you had only exchanged one kiss the other night and it hadn’t been that long since you met each other, but it felt right to you, and you realized it felt right to him as well, as he couldn’t stop smiling. He was practically looking at you with heart eyes.
“I didn’t want to say too much in your house, because I thought we should be alone when I did, but Y/N, you’re stunning today.”
“Thank you, and yes, I know what you mean. Taeyong can be a handful sometimes. Sorry if he was too annoying.” You laughed.
“No, he was really nice. To be honest, I’d never really talked to him before, and he seemed pretty nice.”
“Then, what?”
“Y/N, you didn’t… Oh, never mind. Let’s go and find our seats, the movie starts in a few minutes.”
#yuta x reader#yuta x you#yuta fanfic#yuta fluff#yuta angst#yuta headcanon#nakamoto yuta x reader#nakamoto yuta x you#nakamoto yuta fanfic#nakamoto yuta fluff#nakamoto yuta angst#nakamoto yuta headcanon#nct yuta x reader#nct yuta x you#nct yuta fluff#nct yuta angst#nct yuta headcanon#yuta#nct yuta#nakamoto yuta#kpop
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Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)
Masterlist (with AO3 links)
Total word count: 50,293
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,
Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.
Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.
Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you
A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉
Without further ado,
Then Again Part 26:
(Words: 2,825)
The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color.
All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.
From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.
Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain.
As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them.
But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself.
Okay.
Alright.
No distractions.
I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.
If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal.
Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way.
I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.
I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them.
And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again.
Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two.
Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too.
While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.
“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”
MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat.
“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”
I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.
She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”
“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.
“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”
“Convince?”
“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”
“Oh, so you thought you could just—”
“What kind did you get?”
That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.
“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”
Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—
“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”
Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times.
I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.
The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.
“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”
Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.
“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”
Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us.
“Take however many you guys want.”
I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:
“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”
Flash looked away at just the right second.
Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.
Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one.
“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”
“Staying.”
“All of you?”
He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents.
“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing.
Flash nodded.
“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”
As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?
“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”
A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started.
Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god.
The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp.
And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake.
I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition.
I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.
Next update: God only knows.
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#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker x you#marvel imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland x you#spiderman x reader#spiderman imagine#spiderman x you#peter parker#tom holland
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we don’t walk this road alone || pierre-luc dubois
masterlist
Author’s Note: Heyo, dudes. I’m back with another fic! I got this idea after seeing a post about how much PLD hates Trump. Which, go off, dude. He’s finally proving that hockey players, do, in fact, have brains. Speaking of brains... Mine decided that it wanted to make this have multiple parts. I was originally planning for a one-shot but my said: “No.” I don’t know how many parts there will be but expect more than one; that’s all I can tell you. GIF credit to rustytanev!
Warnings: Well. You see... since this is about PLD’s hatred for Trump, there will be Trump bullshit in here (not in this first part though). I do NOT support Trump. I am very much on PLD’s side in this scenario. So, this story will reflect that. Just thought I’d warn you so you know what you’re getting into. Oh. And it’ll also be set during the current pandemic because I figured that made the most sense. So, be forewarned of that too. I don’t think there’s anything else to warn about in this first part. Let me know if you see something though! I’ll add it to this for you.
Translations: There’s one French word because I couldn’t resist. It roughly translates to “Goddammit!”
Word Count: 1k+
Additional: I know I said to expect more than one chapter. That’s the truth but I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get them written. If I can grow a pair and actually use my adult words, I’ll most likely be getting Animal Crossing: New Horizons tonight. If I do get that, catch me never writing another fic again because I’ll be too busy catching bugs and fishing. Anyways... The reader is gender-neutral as of right now and I want to keep it that way. If I accidentally change it or my direction for the fic changes, I’ll make sure to let you guys know in my ramblings before the actual fic. I hope you enjoy this first part. I’ll try to get the second part done for tomorrow or the next day because I’m working on it right now.
When you arrived at the protest, you double checked to make sure all of your safety equipment was outfitted properly. When you were satisfied that it was, you gripped your steering wheel and let out a shaky sigh.
“You can do this, (Y/N),” you said, puffing out your chest and fidgeting your fingers on the steering wheel. “Trump needs the reality check.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out another shaky sigh as you swung open your car door.
“Sacrament!”
Your eyes flew open and your head swivelled to your left so fast you were surprised it didn’t snap off.
What you were met with was a young man with tattoos on his arms, a Columbus Blue Jackets baseball cap, and a mask with a blue and white flag pattern that you didn’t recognize. The only issue was that he was sitting square on his ass in front of your car door.
“Oh… oh my god,” you said, hands shooting out to pull the door closed.
You quickly turned the key in the ignition and pressed the switch to roll the window down. The young man gave you a lopsided look as he stood up and brushed off his backside.
“Did…” you gestured vaguely to the car door as you switched the ignition off. The young man nodded as he leaned on the car beside yours.
You felt your cheeks heat up as you sank down in your seat and covered your face with your hands. When you dared to look at the young man again, he had crossed his arms over his chest, raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head at you. You swallowed a nervous lump and cleared your throat.
“Sorry about that,” you said, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. “I wasn’t paying attention because I’m really nervous to be here. It’s my first protest.”
You think the young man smiled because his mask moved a little. He definitely chuckled because you were able to hear that, even through the anxious thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears.
“It’s okay,” he said. You thought you heard the faintest of accents but you couldn’t place which accent you thought you heard. “I haven’t really been to that many either, so I completely understand being nervous.”
Chuckling nervously, you gave the young man a thumbs up. You think he smiled again as he chuckled and returned the thumbs up.
“My name is Pierre-Luc,” the young man said, holding his hand up in salute.
“I’m (Y/N),” you replied, holding your hand up in salute as well.
“Would you like to get a coffee or dinner when this protest is over?”
You blinked a couple of times, somewhat taken aback by his offer. There was a part of you that knew you should say no, given the circumstances of everything. Yet…
“I’d love that,” you said, voice surprisingly chipper.
Pierre-Luc grinned (at least you thought he did) as he reached over and opened your car door for you. You chuckled awkwardly as you stepped out of the car and back from Pierre-Luc. He hummed happily as he closed the car door and stepped further away from you to allow for more social distancing.
Now that you were out of the car, you truly focused on Pierre-Luc. His eyes were soft, yet still intense in a way you didn’t know how to truly describe. His tattoos looked completely random to your eyes but you knew his eyes saw each of them as their own little story.
You were glad that you said yes to his offer of coffee or dinner because you really wanted to get to know Pierre-Luc better. Just looking at his tattoos and what he was wearing—an oversized t-shirt with a hockey player on it, blue jean shorts, Vans, polka-dot socks, the Columbus Blue Jackets hat and that blue and white flag mask that you didn’t recognize the pattern for—he looked like the kind of guy you would get along well with. He seemed interesting and you were always one to enjoy being around interesting people.
“Are you ready to go?” Pierre-Luc asked.
You blinked, snapping out of your fantasyland. “Go? I thought the date was later…?”
Pierre-Luc chuckled, shaking his head. “I meant to protest.” He pointed over to the street where people were already beginning to gather.
You felt your face heat up as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Right…”
Even though you couldn’t see the bottom half of his face, you could still tell that Pierre-Luc was giving you a sympathetic look. There was just something about how soft his eyes were that gave that away.
A long silence befell the two of you. Neither of you said anything but the noises from the protesters and cars were still very much audible. It made the fact that neither of you were talking much more bearable.
After what felt like an eternity, Pierre-Luc cleared his throat and looked at you awkwardly. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against what you assumed was his car.
“I can go and we can forget about the date,” Pierre-Luc said, sighing.
“No!” You shouted back almost before he was finished speaking. Pierre-Luc stood there, blinking owlishly. You swallowed and stepped back a couple of times. “Sorry… I…”
Pierre-Luc chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “God, we’re both awkward.”
You chuckled and gave Pierre-Luc some finger guns. Pierre-Luc snorted and shook his head. You chuckled again and smiled, though you knew he wouldn’t be able to see the smile through your rainbow mask.
“Let me try this again,” Pierre-Luc said. “Are you ready for the protest?”
You nodded and took a few steps forward. “Yes. Let’s do this.”
Pierre-Luc gave you a thumbs up as he stepped forward, turned around and started walking toward the street. You shook your head and chuckled as you started following after him.
A loud noise to your left made you stop walking and drew your attention in that direction. You looked for a few moments but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Right as you turned to face forward, you came into contact with something solid. Before you could tell what it was, you were on the ground, on your back with something heavy laying on top of you. When you did realize what it was, you swallowed thickly.
Laying on top of you was none other than Pierre-Luc without his mask. And he was incredibly handsome.
#pierre luc dubois#pierre luc dubois x reader#pierre luc dubois imagine#columbus blue jackets#columbus blue jackets imagine#nhl#nhl imagine#hockey#hockey imagine#nhl fic#hockey fic#nhl fanfic#hockey fanfic#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#reader insert#genderless reader#gender neutral reader#self insert#self imagine#based on a tumblr post#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#writing#freddie writes
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That Night - Pt 1
Request: Hey can I request a jj fic where y/n doesn’t want to do sex/touching stuff with jj because of a past she has. When she gets uncomfortable around it multiple times he thinks she’s not really in love with him or that she’s cheating. At a kegger, topper comes up to y/n when she’s alone and flirts with her and touches her arm. He tries to get her to go some place else but she doesn’t want to. Jj comes in and punches topper and they fight. Topper exposes y/n and says that they already had sex before, but it wasn’t just sex it was rape. Y/n doesn’t want to talk to anyone again, but jj comforts her and says it doesn’t define her.
AN: So I decided to make this into two parts, since it was just going to be wayyy too long as one. I also understand how heavy this topic is, so I am trying to deal with it with as much care as I can. Please let me know what you all think of this one! Part 2 will either be posted tonight or tomorrow, I have a 14 page paper due today so I gotta focus on that haha!
Warnings: Sexual Assault, Anxiety, Self Doubt, Angst
WC: 1.6K
---
You were incredibly happy. You were curled into JJ’s side, head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and feeling the vibrations of his low voice when he spoke. His arm was around your back, playing with the hem of your shirt aimlessly while he talked about the future with you. Ever since you were little, you had been best friends with Sarah Cameron, and when she dumped Topper and started dating John B, you were pulled into the friend group, finally evening the boys and girls ratio. Ugh...Topper. Even the thought of his name left a bitter taste in your mouth. But none of that mattered, that is, until JJ started trailing his fingers down. Your heart started beating faster and your breathing hitched. It was like this everytime. JJ made an advance into the sexual, and you started freaking. He looked down at you, eyes dark and began placing soft kisses to your neck, oblivious to the sudden shift in the air.
“You look so beautiful, Y/N” He breathed in your ear, voice husky with desire. The mere sound of it brought you back to that night and your stomach twisted. It didn’t matter that it was JJ, it didn’t matter that he made you feel safe or loved, you couldn’t differentiate it anymore. You pushed him away and sat up, discomfort evident on your face, but you tried to play it off like you just weren’t in the mood right now.
“Sorry, J, I’m just not feeling well right now.” You ran a hand through your hair and down your face, turning your head to look back at him, his face stoic but hurt in his eyes. HIs lips formed a straight line and he gave you a curt nod of the head before moving to get up. “Where are you going?” Your voice almost broke, shocked he would just get up, but in his defense, this was the sixth time something like this happened.
“I just need to clear my head, but I’ll pick you up tonight for the kegger, kay?” His voice sounded rough, not at all like the sweet tones he was using with you earlier that day. You just nodded your head, and he slipped out of the room. Slowly, the tears began to well up in your eyes and down your cheeks. You laid back down and curled into a ball under the covers, letting the horrid memories of that night flash behind your eyes.
That’s exactly how Kie found you two hours later. She came over to start getting ready with you for the kegger, and walked into the absolute mess that was your brain. You hadn’t moved since JJ left, and your chest felt like it was collapsing.
“Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Her voice was filled with concern as she sat on the bed and began to stroke your hair.
“Just feeling a little off, JJ left a few hours ago and I don’t know, he seemed mad at me that i didn;t want to have sex with him.” You attempted to play it off as if you hadn’t been crying yourself into oblivion, but your voice broke on every other word. She gave you a look of confusion.
“That doesn;t sound like JJ at all, he adores you, Y/N! I’m sure it’s nothing.” She tried to comfort you but you knew that it was just Kie being Kie.
“It’s just…” You began, but stopped yourself, never wanting anyone to find out what Topper had done 7 months ago. “It’s just, I’ve never had sex before, I’m just nervous, I mean, he’s slept with the entire island, what if I dont live up to his insane expectations.” This was true. You actually had never willingly had sex, and these were fears of yours, which is why it was so easy to lie and say this is why you were upset.
“Y/N, he loves you. Like loves you. Like won’t share a door while freezing to death in the ocean loves you. It’ll be okay, I promise, and it’ll happen when you’re ready. Please don’t let JJ being a slut a year ago ruin how amazing you two are for each other now. He hasn;t even looked at another girl since he met you.” Kie smiled your way, and you actually felt a little better, laughing at her slut comment about your boyfriend. You nodded, and slowly sat up, wiping the tears away. Kie brushed her hand on your face to help you. “Okay, now let’s get ready, we have a party to get to!” She got up and dragged you from bed, pulling you into the bathroom so you could change.
---
“She’s fucking someone bro, I know it!” JJ screamed at John B, pulling his hair out in different directions. He had immediately gone to the beach where he knew his best friend would be setting up the keg after leaving the Chateau.
“Bro, Y/N is literally head over heels for you, there’s no way.” John B scoffed at his friend, but gave him a look of sympathy. For JJ to be saying anything like this about you, he had to have been really hurting.
“Then please explain to me the second I touch her, kiss her, try and do anything other than fucking cuddle her she get’s all squirmy and pulls away. She gets so distant dude, it’s like she can’t even look at me.” JJ’s voice broke at the end, and he collapsed in the sand, head in his hands, trying not to let the tears fall. John B walked over to him and put his hand behind his back, rubbing comfortingly.
“Maybe she’s just nervous, I mean she is still a virgin, and you have a pretty extensive list of girls you’ve...y’know?” John B laughed a little, but JJ stayed serious.
“I don’t know bro, but I have to confront her tonight about it. I’m fucking in love with this girl and if she’s with someone else...I just can’t do it dude.” JJ let a tear fall from his eye. That was the first time he’d expressed to anyone that he was in love with you, and the look on John B’s face made that evident.
“Wow...JJ, I really fucking hope you’re wrong dude.” That was all he could say.
“Me too, man...me too.” He trailed off, looking at the water and realizing that the sun was beginning to drop below the horizon. “Shit, it’s getting late, I gotta go and pick her up.” He stood up and held his hand out to John B, silently asking him for the keys to the van. John B tossed them over, and watched as his best friend walked away silently. God he really hoped he was wrong.
---
After JJ picked you and Kie up from the Chateau, everyone could instantly feel the tension on the way to the beach. JJ, usually so full of life in the car, sat silently, not even tapping his finger to the radio. Kie just sat in the back, scrolling on her phone and trying to act as normal as possible, while you sat there anxiously. You kept feeling his eyes darting over to you every now again, but you stared out the window, avoiding his gaze. When you finally parked, JJ looked at Kie, silently asking her for a minute alone. SHe looked at the both of you and held her hands up in defense.
“Wasn’t trying to be in the middle of it anyways” She mumbled as she opened the door, slamming it shut behind her as she went to find the guys.
“I’m sorry, about earlier. Really, I just needed some time to think.” JJ said after you both sat in silence for what felt like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. “I need to ask you something, and it’s not going to be pretty, and you might hate me after even suggesting it, but I need to know, Y/N.” His voice was shaky and your heart broke. “Are you…” His face twisted and he grimaced, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “Are you...sleeping with anyone else.” He kept his gaze straightforward, not bearing to see the hurt flash in your eyes.
“How could you even think that, J? Of course not!” You were completely taken aback, not expecting his brain to ever go to that place.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, you barely let me touch you, sometimes, I just worry that maybe someone else is doing that for me.” His voice was flat, unrecognizable. You grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“Baby, I've just...never done anything with anyone, I’m scared I wont be good enough for you. I promise that’s it.” You grabbed his face and kissed him softly. He kissed you back, and when you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I just...my head, it just…” You shushed him, telling him it was okay.
“Let’s just go have fun.” You forced a smile, and went to open the door, but he grabbed your arm and you turned to face him.
“I’ll wait, whenever, however long it takes. I’ll wait baby. And you will be more than good enough for me, because...well it’ll be a first for me too.” You looked at him confused, his eyes were unreadable, expressing something you’ve never seen in him before. “I’ve never had sex...with someone I’m in love with before.” You had never smiled so big in your life.
“I’m in love with you too, J.” you breathed, and kissed him hard. She both stayed in the moment, sharing kisses and loving looks, before you decided it was time to make an appearance at the party.
#jj maybank#jj fanfiction#jj imagine#jj outer banks#outerbanks#obx x reader#jj obx#obx#outer banks fanfiction#angst#jj angst#john b routledge#john b#kie
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Road Warrior
Summary: time apart makes time together, in any way that you can, that much more special
Word Count: a little over 12.2K (oops?)
Warning: this is a full rollercoaster ride of feelings across the spectrum – there’s love and fluff and soft, there’s some pangs, there’s a beat of angst, there’s smut.
Author Notes: So, it’s been 6ish weeks since I’ve posted something that wasn’t a babble. I’ve felt clogged and stuck in a way I haven’t in ages. I did not like it. I tried pushing the muse, she wasn’t having it. I backed away from the two stories I was oscillating between and just stopped for a beat. I read some, I tried some prompting, then this gif and a photoset hit back to back. The idea for this just hit me like a ton of bricks. Then the words just came and came and came again. This is the longest piece of fic I’ve ever written.
This falls early in the story of these two, I think this is a cornerstone in the foundation of them. What pieces them together, what makes them THEM. It feels to me that this comes after All’s Fair In Love & Basketball and before Spill The Beans, Break The Ice. Another one that can easily be read as a stand alone but would all add up a little better if you’ve read some of the verse.
“You’re staying tonight right?” he asks, popping out of his closet with a bunch of random shirts in his hands to be folded. “Car’s coming just before you need to leave for the office, so I want as much time with you as possible.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you smile. “Get my fill of you before you’re gone and on the road for 72 days.”
He tosses the clothes haphazardly into the open suitcase next to his dresser and slides next to you on the bed.
“I can make room in my bag and pack you instead,” he teases, nuzzling your temple while taking your hands between his. “You’d be more exciting than more shirts, socks and extra guitar strings.”
You can’t help but giggle a little before leaning your head on his shoulder.
“We’re going to be okay right Shawn?” you say softly, looking at the way your hands lock together. “I know I’m probably being silly, but this is still sort of new, and you know I’m still kinda dealing with the nerves at times, Rockstar. I know we haven’t talked talked. I like where this is going, I’m pretty fond of you, you know. I trust you, it’s not that, but. God, I keep saying but. I’m sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t let this all ruin our night together.”
“Hey, hey it’s ok’s you’re fine,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re not crazy and you’re not ruining anything; there’s no need to be sorry. It’s a lot, hell it’s a lot for me too. This is my first time hitting the road having someone like you in my life. It’s not going to be the easiest, only saving grace for us is that it’s not Europe or Asia with crazy time difference. It’s just bopping around North America. I know it’s soon; it feels like we just found our footing in all this, in the us of it and it’s been so great. Now, I’m heading out for two and a half months. We’ll talk, text, FaceTime, all of it. Timing will suck at certain passes, but I want this, I want to make it work. Always know it’s not you, never ever you. Plus, you’re coming out for the last weekend of shows, which gives us both something to count on. You’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me, pretty girl.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, bringing your tangled hands up to dust a kiss on the back of his. “I want to be stuck with you, by the way. I kinda like you.”
Shawn frees a hand, shifting your face and cupping a cheek in his palm with his thumb trailing across your cheekbone. He leans in to kiss you ever so gently, “Feeling is so very mutual.”
“Can I help you finish packing?” you question as he still has your face in his palm. “I promise I’ll only steal one, maybe two things”
“Only if we call it after. Shower and cozy down cuddles?” he murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose. “And I’m leaving you a key. You come here whenever you feel you need ok? Promise?”
You nod, biting your lip.
Day One
The morning brings a bit of a heavier goodbye, sniffing on your end, glassy eyes on his. You steal his beige knit sweater with the random patches of open weave to wear over a black cami and leggings. Not exactly the most pulled together office attire, but if you throw on some jewelry, it’ll work. You need a piece of him to have with you through the day. You walk out of the bedroom into the living room and right into his hold.
“This is another see you later,” he sighs into your ear, his arms tight around you. “Except this time, I get to leave with your kiss on my lips. It will work out, there may be bumps, but it will be us on the other side of it. Together. I won’t let it drift, or let you get away.”
You nod into his chest, nose rubbing against the soft cotton of his hoodie.
“I won’t either, Shawn. You’re too special to me,” you respond, chin leaning on his sternum to look up at him. “We both know what it’s like to work hard, we’re just adding something else we want to make a priority is all.”
“And you are, a priority. Even when things get fucking bonkers. Please remember you are,” he replies.
You pop up on your toes to kiss him soundly and his hands come to grip your hips. He’s holding on tightly, there may be bruises later but you’re okay with it. You’ve got a few other little gifts littered across the skin under the sweater from him. There may be one or two you left him with as well.
He leans his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you tightly while your hand comes up to trail through his curls. You’re lost like that for a good couple minutes until you hear his phone go off.
“Walk down with me?” he questions softly, kissing you between each word.
You nod, taking one of his hands from your side to lace with yours.
“You have everything? Passport, AirPods, all the iProducts?” you ask, as he slings his backpack over one shoulder before grabbing his suitcase handle. You grab your bag, knowing you can’t come back in just yet without him there. Maybe in a few days, but not today.
“Triple checked,” he confirms, squeezing your hand as he leads you out towards the elevators.
The dark SUV is waiting at the curb for him when you get to the lobby. He lets go your hand and the suitcase handle at the same time, shifting his backpack on fully. You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling. You thought your resolve would hold, but he’s wiggled his way under your skin in a pretty special way.
“C’mere pretty girl,” he pulls you into his grasp, his head leaning in the space between your neck and your shoulder. “I’m coming back to you, ok? Don’t doubt that.”
“I won’t Shawn, I promise,” you reply. “I’m going to be here when you do. You remember that.”
He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before sliding you closer and kissing you thoroughly. He dusts a few light ones after as you both catch your breath, nose to nose.
“You need to go, you’ll be late,” you mutter against his lips, sipping from them once more. “I don’t need Andrew and Cez mad at me already before you even are officially on the road.”
“I’ll text you when we get into San Francisco, we’ll figure out a time to talk if not tonight, for sure tomorrow,” he says with conviction.
“Go be awesome, Rockstar,” you kiss him one last time before nudging him towards the door. He squeezes your hand, nuzzling your temple with a whispered ‘see you soon sweetheart’ before heading out to the SUV waiting for him.
Sweetheart was a new one. It rolls and wraps around you like a lingering hug from him as you make your way to the office. You like it. You’ll tell him so when you talk next. Rosalie stops you just before you get set to making a tea in the pantry, a smile on her face and a box in hand.
“There’s a delivery for you in your office that came in just before you did,” she explains. “This just got here as you walked in. I’ll drop it on your desk. Also, take your time, going to be a quiet one today with the one team out in Banff for that meeting.”
Tea in hand, you walk into your office. Waiting for you is nondescript box wrapped in butcher paper and a blue sparkly ribbon along with an envelope slid between the bow and the box. You snag the card first.
Know it’s not me per se but close perhaps? Maybe this little guy can be a bit of a substitute and keep my place warm with you while I’m gone. I at least trust his intentions ;) – S
You can’t help but giggle incessantly when you peek inside the box. Tucked amongst a bunch of confetti laced tissue paper is a dark, curly furred teddy bear with honey brown eyes. What made you laugh out loud though, is that he was very much dressed in what you lovingly call cuddlebug Shawn mode. This little guy has a heathered grey hoodie and blue plaid flannel pajama pants. He even has a tiny acoustic guitar strung across his back. You pick him up out of the box, he’s soft all over, squishy in the right places. As you run your fingers over its fur and across the strings of the tiny hoodie, you swear you catch a whiff of your boy coming from him.
“He would,” you murmur, burying your fingers deeper through the curls of the bear.
Around his neck though, a flash of silver caught your eye. It’s long, on the bear at least. It’s a silver locket, the same size and shape as the silver medallion he always wears. The filigree detail on the front is super fine and delicate. You pop it open and inside is a tiny dried, pressed forget me not. Your breath catches. You carefully unlatch the chain from around the bear’s neck and fasten it around yours, fingers carefully tracing over it as it sits just so on your breastbone. You tuck the teddy back into his box for now and shift focus to the other gift of the day. The box Rosalie had is on your chair, and the inside box is blatantly from Laduree. You don’t even need to open it to know what’s inside. The card on top though, you read before sneaking a cookie from one of the sleeves.
I know you and you’re going to want (and need) something like this today. There’s going to be a few bottles of wine waiting for you at home when you get there too. Also, next weekend – you’re being invaded. I’m in Friday mid-afternoon so, be prepared! Thank your boy for the gift of me, is all his doing. He’s a special one. Love ya girly <3 Didi
“This boy,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair wiping at your eyes and grateful you didn’t do mascara today.
Setting the bar high, aren’t you? Mini me bear Shawn with his little extra gift and Didi for a weekend? You spoil me entirely too much. Thank you, really. He’ll keep me warm, but I definitely prefer the real deal. Fly safe, Shawn <3
Thankfully, Rosalie was right. The office was quiet for a Tuesday, but you’re grateful for it. No video calls, a few of conference calls and a ton of emails aside from regular work. Your phone pinged off in rapid succession at around 5:45 as you were trying to wrap up for the day.
I feel like I spoil you the appropriate amount or sometimes not enough, but we’ll agree to disagree ok? :)
That little guy and I had a long talk, he’s up to the challenge of being my stand in so you’re in good paws with him. And I just helped Didi bump up some plans she had going herself is all.
Finally on the ground, we looped SFO for like an hour because of runway traffic but I did get this sick shot!
(Photo of Golden Gate Bridge with one big fluffy cloud in the background)
May have a dinner now I need to deal with after we settle in and go through a pre pro meeting according to Cez, but I want time with you tonight even if it’s just 5 min.
Dinner is a thing – FaceTime me when you get back to your place? I’ll have time for you before I need to be presentable, time change on our side ftw!
Can I say I miss you already? Is that allowed to be a thing? Cause I do, miss you <3
The flurry of texts makes you giggle and tug at your heart a bit, and it’s only been a couple of hours. It’s an easy decision to head home right then and there.
You have impeccable timing; I was just wrapping up for the day. Should only be a quick hop back to my place.
“So, sweetheart huh?” you smile, cozying into the corner of the couch watching him flop down onto the bed stomach first.
He tinges pink.
“I need to step up the game from Rockstar then,” you tease as the color spreads further across his cheeks and nose.
“Are you done teasing me?” he quips, shifting about again to prop the phone against a pillow. “Is this how this is going to be while I’m on the road?”
“I kid because I care, my dear,” you reply. “Eh, that one needs some work. Ok, but not the go to. Doesn’t feel you enough.”
He laughs brightly. You fall into sync and talk for a good 20 minutes about everything and nothing, your days, what the rest of the week is shaping up like. Then an alert goes off on his phone.
“Time to get a move on. Need to get pulled together enough for this meeting that I can go right from there to dinner,” he sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “One day down. I’m glad this worked out. Like seeing your face, pretty girl.”
“Go, go. I’ll text you tomorrow,” you bite through fighting back a yawn, suddenly super sleepy. “We’ll figure next FaceTime date then.”
“Get some rest. Goodnight sweetheart,” he says softly, blowing you a kiss before disconnecting.
Day 12
I’m sorry, Shawn. Still stuck on a call with the clients from Stockholm. I thought we’d be done before you needed to head to the station :( UGH. Are you jammed with them until you have to get to the building for soundcheck?
You unmute the line to chime in about the latest opportunities the company could have supporting some of the local conservation efforts, specifically with teaching schoolchildren about environmental impacts. By the time you were done and were able to end the call off your desk line, your cell phone unfortunately forgotten for those few moments, you missed a few messages.
You’re being a bad ass; I can’t fault you for that. Work goes on aside from my wacky schedule. This is the one with the student programming, right?
Interview, performance, meet and greet, liners, some web thing then straight to the arena. Full pack with this group. Sound check shouldn’t be long though. After that but before power nap and pre-show hoopla? We’re 2 hours behind because Arizona is so weird with time change so like 4ish your time?
You were supposed to have another call, but it was something internal. Something you could push, even just to get a few minutes with him.
I’ll push my call, Josue won’t mind. It’s just an internal catch up on something for an Ottawa client. Putting you on my calendar for 30! <3 Call? FT?
Josue is more than happy to shift, even saying he can download you on email if you bring the good coffee and treats when it’s your turn for Friday morning staff pick me up next week.
Call unfortunately for now unless something changes, idk if I’ll have my room alone or if I’m hiding in the bus. But need time with you however I can take it. We’ll figure out FT when we talk later. Go run the world.
He finds a box waiting for him in his dressing room when he walks in with Brian and Cez, having a few moments to be just after soundcheck.
“Oh good, they brought it over. That showed up for you at the hotel, arrived there after we already left for the station. I thought you may want to open it now and not wait,” Cez explains as he scrolls through some emails on his phone. “Come on Brian, let’s give him some space.”
“So, it’s that kind of present then?” Brian snickers before Cez pushes him towards the door.
“Let’s go smart ass. I’ll be back for you Shawn a little before 4 for the meet and greet,” Cez calls as they walk away.
He flips open the box to find another box, this one brightly wrapped with an envelope stuck to the top with a bow. He snags the card first.
When I was away at college, one of the best things was getting care packages especially when I least expected them! Here’s a little taste of that for you, Shawn. Some fun, some practical, some sweet, some absolutely nonsensical. Most of it’s for you but share with the boys as you will. Miss you Rockstar <3
The box was exactly that: two extra phone chargers and another two extra wires because you know how he loses them, a new AirPods charging slide with a deep grey marble case cover, another one of his favorite writing journals, a box of the pens he likes to steal from you when he thinks you’re not looking, a couple tins of his favorite tea, a box of homemade baked goodies, a massive bag of Blow Pops, a bouquet of Tootsie Roll pops, a handful of packages of both Haribo gummy bears and fruit snacks, 2 silly stress ball men whose eyes pop out when you squeeze it, a bunch of random rubber band shooters with a bag of bands, four tubes of glow bands and a rainbow selection of Halloween eye masks.
You’re beyond, you know that? This is amazing, thank you. Cannot wait to talk to you later, pretty girl.
Day 20
The day starts out innocent enough. It was a normal day at the office and with him somewhere still out west, you’ve lost track. Maybe Denver at this point? It’s at least a 2-hour time difference now, that you do know. You get out of a meeting, settling into your office when a text pops through from him.
I miss you, pretty girl. I miss waking up next to you.
You echo the sentiment, skimming back into the brief you just got for a project that you’ll be fully leading out on. You go head down into work, not paying much mind to your phone for a good block. When you flip back to it, you’re welcomed to two more messages.
I miss your heart beating with mine, how you fit just so in my arms. I miss you in bed with me.
The next is a photo that makes you lose breath. The light streaks over him from what’s probably a recently opened curtain, his hair is a riot of curls and a bit of a wicked smile over his lips. He’s got one arm bent behind his head. The crisp white bedsheets still a mess from the night before and they’re slung just oh so low enough on his hips to know there’s nothing underneath them. Well at least not clothing.
“Shit,” you blurt out loud, but thankfully not loud enough to carry even through your closed office door.
He then progresses to texts you did not expect.
I miss your hands on me, I miss your mouth on mine, how you taste on my tongue, the way you sound when you come.
You flush, even when he’s trying to be dirty, he still sounds beautifully lyrical.
I miss how your breath always catches when I slip into you for the first time, how you get so tight around me, how wet and turned on you get when I’m fucking you.
You quickly get up to DND all the settings for your door card and your work line.
I AM STILL AT WORK SHAWN PETER. What is this? Where is this coming from?
You try to finish the last few emails you must get through in your inbox, you’re not sure what’s going on with this boy of yours.
Can we talk later, FaceTime? Pretty please pretty girl?
You know where he’s going with this. You’ve passed the teasing, alluding texts here and there, a few slightly risqué photos but not this. Not yet at least. And it’s obvious by his build up he’s getting to now, what it will lead to.
As long as you behave while I’m still at the office. Some of us just can’t fuck all in their bed at whatever time of day it is where you are.
You try to shake out the haze settling over your brain when your phone goes off again.
Fuck all is right; I wish it were you though. You’ll always be the better option.
He sends a photo, but you refuse to even open it while at your desk. You have a fairly good idea of what he’s up to.
“Damnit Shawn,” you sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. There’s no way you’re going to be able to finish what you need to if he keeps this up. You flip off a few random gifs, so you don’t have the photo immediately in your chatline.
This is not behaving because I think I know what you’re sending me there, Rockstar. What are you up to here?
It’s early in your day, but you toy with the idea of ducking out.
Can you head home early? You’re all flushed. You’re coming down with something, I think.
“This boy I swear,” you exhale, already shutting down your computer.
I’ll be home in 20, think you can control yourself for a little bit longer?
As you key into your apartment finally, your phone buzzes again. You’ve missed two other messages.
Yes, yes and yes.
I still wish that it’s your hands around me right now.
That makes you warm all over as you walk back into your bedroom, losing almost everything you wore to the office that day. For now, leaving on the thin cami, bra and panties. Before you duck into the bathroom, you scroll back to that photo. It’s what you assumed, though seeing it makes you even warmer; his right hand wrapped around his dick, hard and flushed a deep pinkish purple. You have to take a quick wash of your face because you have a notion that once you’re in bed you won’t get out of it for a bit and really, to help you cool down a little. Once you grab the little drawstring bag from your bedside table and start to settle down onto your bed, another text rings through.
So, what are you wearing?
“Whaaaat?” he whines, scrubbing a hand over his face as soon as you connect on FaceTime.
“That’s what you start out with? And on text? That’s like the epic cliché for a dude who wants to get some, Shawn,” you laugh. “Especially considering I know how dirty you can get on text after the show you put on a few minutes ago.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” he groans, burying his face into the pillow. There’s enough light from the open curtains you can see how pink he is, even through the phone’s camera.
“You’re hiding from me now, Rockstar? After ‘what are you wearing’?” you tease. “Or your little diatribe about how you like when I come on your tongue or when I have my lips around your cock?”
“Sweetheart,” he moans, his free hand shifting down from behind his head. “You. God, you sound so good.”
“Isn’t that the point?” you question, shifting around in your bed to get more comfortable. “Get you turned on like that. You did that to me before at the office, then again when I looked at that photo you sent with you fisting yourself.”
“You liked that? Me all hard and wanting you?” he gets breathy as he speaks. “See what thinking about you does, what you do to me.”
“Get mouthy. I know you want to, I know you can,” you egg him on, trying to push his buttons to get him riled up to the point where he was before with you. This time though with you right there to see and be seen.
“Fuck,” he licks his lips. “Yeah? You’re sure?”
“I miss you like this too Shawn,” you admit, fingers tracing over your collarbone. “I’ve missed your hands on me, your lips, your tongue, your dick.”
“You have to too, pretty girl,” he counters, fighting back another deep rumbling from his chest. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear you, see you. Want to make you feel good, make you come.”
“Please Shawn,” you whimper, your fingers tracing the swell of your breast against the cotton of your cami. “Want to get you riled up, watch you come for me. I want to come for you too.”
“I think you’re wearing far too much,” he purrs. “I think we need to get you caught up but not before you let me see what you had on today.”
“If I knew this was happening, I’d have picked something far prettier,” you remark, flipping the tank top over your head.
“You know I have no complaints with your choices in lingerie. Ever. Fact you let me see it on you at all is a privilege,” he chuckles. “Let’s see come on, show me please.”
You were happy you at least slipped on a matching set today. Deep forest green lace with boyshorts. You angle and tilt the phone down so he can see not only the cups of your bra but the line of lace at your hips.
“Oh honey, that is pretty. You’re so damn pretty,” he coos. “Touch yourself, like you’d want me to if we were together.”
His breath stutters as he watches you flick and twist one of your nipples through the lace before peeling the cup back to do the same against bare skin. You both groan.
“Show me,” you murmur, head bending back into the pillow as you pinch it again. “Want to see you too.”
He grunts deep before flipping the camera shot. He’s harder than before, the head of his cock a deeper red, tinged with purple. His hand moving in slow, easy strokes, squeezing the tip slightly on the up.
“You’re so hard, Shawn, look at you,” you play coy, your free hand slipping to tease the lace trim on your boyshorts. “That all for me?”
“Only you,” he whines, flipping the camera back so you see his face. “Time for you to take off all that lace sweetheart.”
You prop the phone on the pillow next to you, slipping your bra away first then shimming your panties off. You twirl them around on your finger in front of your phone and laugh before snagging it back up.
“All gone,” you giggle, smiling wide as you cup your breasts together to show him your bare skin.
“God, how I miss you,” he whimpers. “You are just so stunning. I’m damn lucky I get to call you mine.”
“I miss you too, Shawn. Wanna show me how much?” you poke, your hand making a trail down your stomach. “You’ve got me all naked in my bed. Tell me how you want me, what you want me to do.”
“I wish that was my mouth making its way down your skin like that,” he sighs. “Bury my head between your thighs and lick you until you’re writhing. Flick your clit against my tongue to the point when I get your legs to shake around me. You always get so fucking wet when I’m eating you out. I can’t ever get enough of how you taste.”
You can’t help but run your hand down further, start circling your clit and whine. Your fingers may be enough tonight you’re wound so tight. It’s been a few days since you’ve gotten off too, that plays in yours, and his, favor this evening.
“Yeah, you like that huh?” he mutters, his own breath growing short. “Fuck, don’t hold back. Don’t bite that lip of yours. You look so good like this. Let me hear you. Just like I was there.”
“Shawn please,” you sob, speeding and tightening the circles, pressing down a little more.
“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he pushes, his own hand tightening around him. “You wanna come? You want it like it was my mouth milking it out of you or you want it like my cock buried deep inside you?”
“Shit,” you draw out.
“Come on sweetheart, gotta tell me so I can get you there,” he pants, trying to stave off the build he’s starting to feel watching you. “Need you to come for me, see you fall apart. I want to know how you want it.”
“Fuck me, please. I want your dick in me and your thumb on my clit to get me there. Please, please Shawn,” you practically beg.
He hisses not expecting you to go there, shifting down to roll and pull at his balls. He knows if he keeps up the assault on his cock the way he has, he’d come far, far too soon. He wants to enjoy this, enjoy you before he comes himself.
“You know how much I like sinking into you, watching your eyes go wide and start to roll back when my head just starts to stretch you and slip inside,” he utters, that thought even making him throw his head back. “The way you just clench around me, you’re always so warm and wet and tight. I never will be sick of that feeling.”
“Oh, oh, I’m so close,” you stutter out, hand flicking even faster. “Shawn, Shawn please.”
“That’s it honey, you look so damn good like this. I’ll never be tired of seeing you this way,” he urges, hand back to skimming over himself just slightly. “Just like that. How I want that to be my hips slipping against yours, grinding my dick deep in you. When you get this close, you flutter around me and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything better. Come on, come for me. Please sweetheart, show me how pretty you are when you come.”
It hits you hard and fast, hearing his voice that raspy asking for you to come for him. You lock eyes with him and cry out, arching your back. You work yourself through it until you’re far too sensitive to keep even a light circle going against your clit.
“You feeling good over there?” he teases.
“You’re how damn far away and you just made me come like a freight train,” you mutter, reaching for a tissue.
“Lemme see first,” he bites out quickly, his hand speeding up a little against his cock.
“You wanna see how wet you got me, Shawn?” you ask. “That going to wind you up more? Knowing how you still get me going, even this way? How even just your voice and how dirty your mouth gets can still make me come this hard?”
“Yeah,” he groans as you lift your hand towards the phone. “Shit, look at that.”
“It’s all your turn now,” you reply, quickly wiping your hand. “How do you want me? On my knees sucking your deep?”
“I’d never say no to your mouth,” he huffs out. “But it’s not gonna take much. Watching you come like that, god I already know I’m not going to last. I want to fuck you. Ride me? I love having you in my lap. Want my lips sucking at your nipples while you’re sliding down my dick, settling down on me.”
“My hands in your hair, tangled up in those damn curls of yours. My mouth on that spot on your neck, the one on the left side that just makes you squirm when I latch onto it every single time,” you start. “I hit that spot and you always rock your hips up into me. Doesn’t matter if we’re just making out or you’re inside me. When I’m on top of you like that though, you always slide further, deeper.”
“Yes, yeah just like that honey,” he moans loudly, free hand pawing at his own chest while the one around him starts to speed up even more. “Need you, need more of you.”
“Want me bouncing on your cock? Or do you want me grinding down and circling? I know you; you want both. Grinding first, then when I feel you getting even harder, that’s when you’re close. That’s when you want me to pull off you slowly, then slam back down on you. Isn’t that right, Shawn?” you draw out.
“You feel so good. So, so fucking good. God yes,” he sobs, his strokes now shorter, fingers hitting closer to that spot just under the head that makes his hips tipping up even more. “Shit. Wanna come inside you. Please, sweetheart. Please let me come inside you. I love how it feels when I come in you, you’re all warm and wet.”
“Let me see you come, Shawn. Let go for me. Lemme see those pretty eyes of yours when I make you fall apart into pieces and come. Please come for me,” you plead.
His eyes flash open, only a tiny ring of brown visible. His jaw drops and he lets go the most delectable sounds. His hand slows as the last strangling noise leaves his lips.
“Oh, oh shit. Oh. Wow,” he huffs. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard and that much since the first night we slept together.”
He flips the camera again, he’s definitely a mess of come with puddles and streaks all up his stomach, pooling in certain dips of his abs. His cock, twitching slightly, when you bite your lip to fight back a moan.
“Are you trying to make me want to come again?” you huff out.
“I’d need a few to catch my breath because damn,” he exhales, reaching for what you think is a hand towel to mop himself up.
“Honey?” you prod after he’s clean and breathing at a normal pace again, his eyes are back open to focus on you.
“Yeaaaaah,” he chirps back. “Our thing now. Add it to the list.”
“Mmkay. I miss you,” you sigh. “I want to cuddle up on you right now.”
“Me too. Kiss all over your face,” he replies. “Miss you too pretty girl. Miss you so damn much. This will help keep me for a bit, I’ve got something new to use for some fuel without you. I think though that we need to do this again soon. Cause hot damn.”
“You’re such a boy,” you giggle.
“Your boy though,” Shawn smiles, making kissy faces at you.
Between Day 34 and Day 41
It has been a few days of just missing each other, timings were all off, his schedule is changing on the fly to the point that neither you nor he could both keep up anymore aside from the definite moments of shows. The label was adding things left and right, days off were slipping away. Missed calls and FaceTimes, texts going unanswered for hours, not the normal lag times you’ve both become accustomed to. It took this long to finally hit the skid you both knew would eventually come, what you didn’t realize was how hard it would shake you and how deep it would run.
You end up taking a work from home day and you work from your home, not his place despite wanting to post up there to just have a better sense of feeling close to him. You need to be able to have those mood swing moments from mad to upset to indifferent without folks in your office poking in to see what’s got you in a tizzy. It’s been three days now of just clipped responses via text, short and unlike the Shawn you’ve grown to know and care for, a “k” here or a yes/no there and zero tries or asks about getting calls or anything set up, let alone trying to talk with you over text about anything. You were trying, but it stopped last night. The ball is now in his court. You also have a major proposal that needs to be approved internally and out the door to a client by the end of the day tomorrow. You live and breathe work those two days, barely functioning outside of it. Partly because of your deadline, partly to not face the feelings swirling around inside you.
You send a silly meme on Saturday morning to him feeling a little lighter after your work is complete. You’re met with nothing but the same silence you’ve faced for days. You crack on that night.
Instagram is a flood of photos and boomerangs and videos. It wasn’t one post; it was the whole crew. All of them posting throughout the night. You knew they were all busting your ass, so of course it made sense to have a night out to blow off steam with a supposed two days off following. It looks to be their typical wild night out. Which you don’t begrudge. However, you hadn’t heard a peep from him in three, going on four days. Not an emoji, not a missed call, a gif. Nothing. It wasn’t the night out that had you set off; it was the buildup of feeling like you don’t matter anymore, especially when things seem to get a little tricky.
You bite your lip to not only stop the wobbling, but to prevent you from the start of the tears. You press down so hard you draw blood. You don’t want to overreact, but everything you talked about, all that you promised each other feels like it was just empty words. This all isn’t it. This isn’t making you guys a priority despite all the outside forces that come down with a tour. Your mind is racing, wanting to let him know his actions have consequences. Your thoughts deserve more than a text, this was so much more than that. Knowing there’s no way he’d hear a ring wherever they were, between the noise and being too wrapped in their night, you hit call instead.
“I’m not sure what to say or how to say it, but it all boils down to that I’m really tired of feeling like shit because of you Shawn,” you start, sniffling. “Couple days of missing each other like passing ships shouldn’t result in you being short and moody to me for the time you have been, let alone followed up by total silence from you for days. Days, Shawn. Not hours, fucking days. That’s not okay. We knew it would be hard, we knew we’d have to put in the effort and the work, but we both seemed to agree to want it and each other. We were going to be a priority. We wanted this us of ours. We both have been putting in that work for like the last 30 something days. This last couple days, it’s not that. This is the opposite of it. A simple text saying you’re crazed or overwhelmed, something anything really would be better than this.”
You take a deep breath and, on the exhale, sob.
“If this is what happens when the going gets tough or tricky with you, I don’t want it. Ever. I’m not even sure me calling and telling you this will even matter, I don’t know a hell of a lot of anything right now,” you bite out between some tears. “I guess, I’d just like to know either way what the hell is going on if this is your not so subtle way of ghosting me to end it or what have you. More so, so I can settle my emotions and my heart around it all. I’m not mad, I’m just fucking sad and disappointed. Maybe more at myself for believing all you said to me.”
You end the call, throwing the phone across the room before tucking your knees up and fully breaking down. At some point you curl up in a ball on the couch and fall fitfully asleep there. Waking up around 11:45 am, beyond late for you, you still feel awful. This wasn’t some nightmare. It was very much real.
“Hell,” you sigh loudly, trying to pop your neck, back and shoulders as you decide what you need to do before facing the day and your phone.
When you manage to pick up your phone, by some miracle it did not break, the alerts and notifications are taking up your lock screen. 7 Missed FaceTimes, 18 missed calls, almost a dozen voicemails and about 30 texts from Shawn alone. Let alone the handful of texts and missed calls from Tristian, Hirashan, Miguel, Didi, Tomas and then surprisingly, his sister, Brian and Cez. You must shower, put on some fresh clothes and drink a copious amount of water to rehydrate after all the crying before you can even think about catching up on everything that’s on your phone.
You fire off a quick reply in the group text to Hirashan, Miguel, Didi and Tomas first.
Not sure how much you heard, or what you know or got told but it’s not pretty right now. I’m at my place and have been, I crashed after a draining phone call and a good sob. I need to get myself together. Let me wrap my head around what I’m waking up to. Thank you for all just being here and caring.
The shower and clean, comfy clothes help, as does the gigantic sparkling water you gulp down, taking the refill with you to the couch to finally address the elephant in the room, your cellphone. You scroll through the others first before getting to the plethora waiting for you from him.
My brother is a moron on a good day and I’m sorry he’s being an even bigger one now. I haven’t talked to him, so I don’t exactly know what all happened, but I heard him on with Mum and Dad before. He sounded like shit and I just heard him say how lost and broken you sounded. Which means he was an asshole somehow. I told him you’re too good for him when he brought you home for the first time. I’m on your side no matter what nonsense he pulls, cause again, he’s an idiot. Text me if you’re up for it. I won’t tell anyone, promise.
So, you know because I think you’d want to know, I’ve got him and I’m staying with him tonight. He refused at first, but I won out in the end. Got him into his room and he spilled out only about the voicemail you left, nothing more, then cried and crashed. I’m not taking sides, think of me as Switzerland. From someone who has done this road thing before many a time, it’s fucking hard, but it doesn’t excuse what I think went down. Going to try to talk to him more in the morning. I’m here for you too, my dear. What you guys have, it’s something special. Will help however I can.
He won’t tell me what went down, but he’s pretty broken up. Wtf happened? Like I know, not my place, but I care bout you too. You’ve become a part of our little fam. If you don’t want talk to him, or even me really, just at least please text me to let me know you’re safe and ok as you can possibly be. C has him, which is a good thing as he’s good in those capable, responsible adult hands.
Even though I was friends first with him, doesn’t mean I don’t think of you as a good friend either. Talk or not, whatever you need. I’m a phone call, text or Uber ride away.
You tilt your head back on the couch, not expecting any of that from his people. You’re blown away, grateful. You only answer Cez.
Thank you. I’m glad you took him. Part of me wants you to beat the nonsense out of him, but that’s me running on emotions and shit sleep. I’m not going to say anything, at least not yet, let him get his piece out to you first. Thank you for being there, for both of us. Can you let Brian know I’m alright? He checked in as well and I just can’t do more than this, to you, yet. Talk soon, ok?
You take a deep breath, roll your neck and prepare yourself to dig into everything left. The first few from Shawn you couldn’t completely make out or decipher, but as you started scrolling through, they got a little clearer especially the last few.
I know sorry isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough. Me missing you, schedules getting tossed about and not being able to sync, I shouldn’t have let it get to that point. Of like utter dissonance. Which turned into anxiety and anger and all these other emotions. But I am sorry, I’m so sorry.
I let it take over and fester and I was an ass to everyone, not just you, that’s not an excuse or a reason or justification or aaanything like that.
Fuck. I wish I could rewind the last few days.
I can say a lot, that I should have known better, because I do, that I shouldn’t have gotten that far in my head, that I should have talked to you straightaway, that I’m a jackass for hurting you and making you feel that way. I never should be the one to cause you that much pain and heartache and brokenness.
Your voice there, I never want to hear it that way, let alone be the one to make you sound like that.
I should never have let it get to the point where you think I don’t care; that you’re not someone I truly care for and want in my life or that you’re not a priority or that you feel my words are baseless and empty.
Because you are, you’re becoming the most important person in my heart.
My actions are inexcusable, full fucking stop, and I hate I’m texting this all to you, you’ll hear some of it in bits and pieces on the voicemails I left.
I want to say fuck it and sneak out to hop a plane back to you, to talk to you in person, to apologize in person, to see you pretty girl, so I can start to fix this.
Because I do. Want to fix this. I’m really hoping this isn’t broken, that you’re not broken to the point of beyond fixing. That I haven’t broken you or this to the point of disrepair.
There’s so much more I want to say to you sweetheart, but I don’t want to do it this way. Please call me, text me, something, when you’re ready.
You take to listening to all the voicemails, some were just dead air, him trying you again, some had broken versions of what he texted you. The last one got you because you heard him as despondent as you felt last night, his voice crackling with emotions, even crying at the end of the last one.
You began crying again in earnest at his crying.
“Damnit Shawn,” you sigh, crashing back on to the couch trying to figure out what to say, at least for now.
It shouldn’t take me calling like that, let alone getting that upset, to get you to stand up and pay attention Shawn. Please give me a beat to wrap my head around all this. I’ve listened to and read everything you sent; I need to sit with it - you owe me at least that.
I’m still fond of you, but I’m not liking you too much right now.
He rereads her texts before slumping over, hands pulling at his hair.
“Did you get in touch with her?” Cez asks, sitting down next to him.
“Kind of? She texted me back finally. The last one. It hurt. I deserve it though. All that matters is I royally fucked up and I don’t know if I can fix it, as much as I want to,” Shawn mumbles.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this invested,” Cez replies. “You both seemed to have a handle on trying to balance the road thing. At least minus this last week on your end. What happened?”
“It started out as just bad timing, missing each other and timing not meshing but then it was more of that. I got in my head, anxious and upset, sort of angry. Not at her but at what we were trudging through,” he begins. “It boiled up and over, honestly for no good reason other than I was tired and frustrated at the situation. I made it out to be like I was that way at her and towards her. I shut down. I was an asshole and did exactly the opposite of everything I promised her, that we really promised to each other before I flew out. I started to get that way around here too.”
Shawn sighs, sitting up and rubbing at his neck.
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. Funny way I have of showing it,” he sighs, flopping back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Love huh?” he prompts, trying to let Shawn lead the conversation.
“I almost said something before I left, but I didn’t want it to be questioned that I was saying it just because I was leaving. That’s not it. It’s, being with her, getting to know her, falling deeper with her, it’s all drilling down to really just loving her,” Shawn laments. “This feeling, her really, it’s found a space in me that takes up a place in my heart just like music and my family. She makes me a better version of me now that she’s in my life. I knew from the first moment we met, she was going to be special to me. Wasn’t sure what or how. But now? She’s so smart, cares more than anyone I know, she sees me for me and not all this other stuff I’m immersed in. She’s what I want. I don’t want this without her, man.”
“I think you figured out the start of what you need to tell her?” Cez questions.
“I started to, in the texts and the rambling voicemails, but I need to talk it out with her, whenever she’s willing to talk to me. If she’s willing to talk to me,” Shawn utters.
“Talking though, communication, that’s what got you through the first chunk of this tour. Remember that. Be honest, be open with her, you owe her that. Take it from someone who has gone through it before. Make the time. Hell, tell me you need the time and I’ll do what I can on my end to help you with that. Please do yourself a favor though, don’t tell her you love her now over the phone after a fight. That’s meant for a good memory, and for you to be there with her, not amidst all this,” Cez notes.
“How’d you get so wise?” Shawn remarks. “I’m hoping she’ll be willing to talk to me. I need to fight for her, for us, for this. It’s too special. She’s my lightning in a bottle, Cez.”
“Give her the time, whatever she needs. Start slowly when she does. Prove to her, and to yourself, that everything you both said to each other does really mean something,” he responds. “Now come on, let’s go get you some air.”
“I know they’re finishing load in now, but do you think I can get in there today? Even for like half an hour?” he asks.
The next morning, your phone pings off quickly in succession.
I promise you won’t hear from me after this until you’re ready, I want you to take whatever time and whatever you need.
But I’m sending this to you first because I don’t want you to be blindsided. I’m toying with dropping this tonight. I don’t know but I also think I need to have this moment of feelings out there. To be raw and vulnerable. Honest. Fully visible.
This isn’t the grandmaster fix, I know that, but this one has been bubbling up for a bit in me and it’s fitting, apropos even but you needed to get it and hear it first. Because it is for you, it is you.
It’s two files, a video and an audio. You click the video first. You’re a glutton for punishment, even when you’re upset with him.
Shawn has his phone propped up on the music rack of the piano he’s been touring with. He’s on stage, you can’t remember where he’s supposed to be playing tonight. It’s dim and he’s alone. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing slowly as he places his hands on the keys and he lays in. The chords are melancholy.
“A tornado flew around my room before you came. Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in Southern California, much like Arizona. My eyes don't shed tears, but, boy, they bawl,” he sings. “When I'm thinkin' 'bout you, I've been thinkin' 'bout you, I've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still? Do ya, do ya? Or do you not think so far ahead? 'Cause I been thinkin' 'bout forever.”
His voice isn’t like you’ve heard before, it’s got tinges of things you don’t want to even think about. That sound winds deeper into his voice as the song goes on.
“Damnit Shawn,” you stammer, a tear rolling down your cheek at the end of the video.
What do you do when the stupid manboy you’re upset with goes and pulls something epic to try to start making things up to you while he’s hundreds of miles away?
You shouldn’t, but you transfer the mp3 to your phone to sync to your Apple Music.
You got the song?
“Of course, he knew about it,” you mutter.
Does he mean it? I need you to shoot straight with me, Cez. I don’t need to know everything or anything he talked to you about, I’m not going to break that trust. But I need to at least know this. Please.
You’re not sure how to take this all. This isn’t the magic pill to swallow and everything will be fixed or okay, but this is something you can’t take lightly. He is completely right. It’s open and honest, emotional and raw. It hits you square in the gut, let alone the heart.
Without a doubt. Truly.
Won’t say much more, but I want you to know this. I’ve been with him for a while, through a lot with him. He’s like a son. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this in his feelings about anyone before.
You can’t let this rot away, as much as you’re hurting, and you want him to hurt like you do. It’s not good for anyone. You need to talk, to see if you can fix it. He seems to want to, you feel like you do. You won’t know for sure unless you talk and see him while you’re talking.
When does he have a free pocket today? Can you get him somewhere, safe and alone? With a laptop?
Your brain starts to spin, but your phone pulls you out of it.
I’ll make it happen. I’ll get him into my room, my laptop. Want to say 4:30? We’re still dark tonight and dinner isn’t set plans tonight. Even if it is, this will give you time without rushing. I’ll make sure of it.
Still enough time to wrap your head around what’s coming but not so much that you’re going to get caught up in it. Part of you wants to shower, but the other part wants him to see how much of a mess he’s made.
Perfect, thank you kind sir.
“Thanks for all this,” you fight out, still nervous.
“Of course, I only want the best for both of you. Remember that, not just him,” Cez half smiles. “Let me go get Shawn. Hold tight, he’s just next door.”
The next thing you know, Cez is pushing Shawn down by the shoulders to sit in the desk chair.
“Holy shit,” Shawn exclaims, eyes wide and slack jawed when he sees your face on the screen in front of him.
“No one knows you’re in here, but the door is fully locked up tight, I’ll be in the bedroom with door shut and earbuds in,” he replies, patting his right shoulder. “You two take your time.”
Once the door clicks shut behind Cez, you two just look at each other and you stay that way for a few moments. He looks tired, like he’s been pulling at his curls for hours. You know you can’t look much better.
“I’m afraid to start,” his voice trembling. “Because I don’t know…”
“Me either,” you whisper, swiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.
“Sweetheart, please don’t cry,” he pleads, holding back tears of his own. “I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry.”
“I know you are,” you hiccup. “That doesn’t take away how you made me feel this week, Shawn.”
“I shouldn’t have let it get that far. My anxiety, my issues, I should have never taken it out on you, never made you feel like it was you when it was all on me and how I was coping. I shut down and shut off and that’s not right nor is it an excuse,” he explains. “I know better than this on how to manage my anxiety and it wasn’t right or fair to you whatsoever. It’s one thing when it’s just me. This is different, with us.”
“That wasn’t what I signed up for. That was the polar opposite of how we said we’d take things while you’re gone,” you sigh, swiping again at your tear stained cheeks. “We were doing as well as can be, then it was like a switch flipped.”
“I think the schedule getting fucked on my end threw me more for a loop than I thought it would,” he says, threading a hand through his hair. “Again, not an excuse but losing those pockets of time off, those days. It’s always been difficult and would make the anxiety spike, but I also only had me to worry about last time through. But I want to have to worry about you, think about you as a priority in all of this. I should have leaned on folks, leaned on you, pretty girl.”
“You know, this is what I was worried about. Before you left,” you tread carefully. “We knew it was going to be hard, but we were making it work. Almost halfway and we were getting through it. Damn Shawn last week was brutal. I don’t think I’ve felt that…discarded before.”
That’s what cracks him, a loud sniffle and the tears fall from there.
“It breaks me, that I was the one who made you feel like that,” he stammers. “I can’t get that tone you had from your voicemail out of my head. And that I drove you to it? It eats away at me. I want to fix this, this, us, it’s worth all the work, however hard it gets.”
“Are you sure about that?” you respond quickly. “Cause I just saw the opposite of that firsthand and my heart can’t take that again, Shawn. You’ll break me.”
“I’m committing myself more to this, to you. I’ll talk to Cez and Andrew, make sure I have actual breaks and not just run for 72 hours straight not knowing up from down,” he ticks off. “I will do whatever it takes to start earning the trust and respect back.”
“The song. Was that a first step?” you wonder about out loud.
“The song,” he exhales. “I started toying with that first day in San Fran. Did you listen? Do you like it? It fit, trying to be present but looking forward. For me, to that day I got you from the airport before those last shows, to when I was back home with you, after that even.”
“It’s beautiful, you sound stunning on it,” you remark. “That song is why we’re on FaceTime right now. I think you should release it if you want. It’s your feelings, Shawn. Up to you if you want to share it with the world. Damnit, I miss you. And I don’t want to lose you, but last week…”
“Last week isn’t indicative of me. I think, well at least I hope, you know that,” he jumps in. “The song was for you, is for you. I wouldn’t let it out there if you weren’t okay with it. It’s a statement, folks don’t know who or why, but you would. Honestly, that’s all that matters to me right now is you. Say the word and I’m on a plane back, I can get to you and be back in time for the show tomorrow night.”
“Cez and Andrew would kill me, then kill you, then come back to get me again,” you half chuckle, half sniffle. “I would love for you to be here, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that as much as I want you here. It means a lot that you’re offering and that you would though. I need this Shawn who is willing to do that with me for the last 30 some odd days of tour.”
“You mean that?” he asks, eyes glassy but brighter than you’ve seen.
“It’s going to take that work, from both of us, and I’m going to still be a little cautious, a little guarded. You must understand that though coming back into this. It’s going to take me a bit to be as easy as it was earlier on,” you lay out.
“Whatever you need, baby,” he replies.
“Baby?” you squeak out.
“Shit shit I’m sorry, it just slipped,” Shawn rambles. “I didn’t even…”
“No, no I just. That’s ok. It’s, I mean,” you stumble. “You’ve never called me that before. It’s, it feels intimate. I think I like it, coming from you. I never did before from anyone. I always shut that down right quick. But, you. It sounds right, the way you’re saying it, in your voice.”
“Yeah?” he prods, getting bashful.
You nod, turning an even brighter shade of pink. This wasn’t what you expected, but you’ll be cautiously optimistic about it.
“I miss you, pretty girl, so much,” Shawn props his chin on his hand looking at you softly. “Why don’t you go rest, it’s been a whirlwind the last bit to say the least.”
“I don’t want the bubble to burst,” you confess, pulling at your sleeves.
“Can I call you later? Please?” he requests. “I can text you when I know what the dinner plan is, then figure from there?”
“I’d like that,” you confirm, a slight smile sliding across your lips.
Day 48
You decide to take the weekend at the condo, needing to get away but not away away. Plus, you want to either despite of or because of, which honestly probably was a combination of both, the last blip, you have this need and sense to feel close to him in some way to try to keep putting the pieces back together.
You’re both still stepping cautiously, watching every step to get back to where you were before, so you text on Wednesday to ask if it’s ok if you head over after work on Friday and spend the weekend there.
I gave you the key for a reason, this one specifically. I still want you to feel like you have somewhere you can escape to while I’m not there if you need it. Please go. I’ll feel better knowing you’ll be there taking a breather.
You don’t get to leave the office on time Friday by any means, stumbling into Shawn’s place a little after 8. There’s a small vase of dusty lavender peonies studded with fresh lavender sprigs on the side table by the door, with a card propped against it clearly in his handwriting.
A few little things are here for your weekend to make you feel more at home, yet on a little retreat. Keep your eyes open, you may find things when and where you least expect it. Rest, relax and just be while you’re here, pretty girl. Miss you.
Those little things so far include more flowers on the kitchen island, your favorite wine and seltzer in the fridge along with a plethora of other things you’re fond of food wise. You send off a quick text before moving on.
How?
You wander down to the bedroom to drop your overnight bag and change. Fresh sheets on the bed, lavender scented candles on either bedside table, along with a familiar black tub and spray bottle from Lush on the table you’ve been calling your side when you’ve stayed over before, as well as a shirt you distinctly remember helping him pack folded neatly at the end of the bed on top of the extra blanket. You can see some other lavender goodies in a basket on the bathroom counter. You’re about to slide out of your work clothes and into the shower when a text alert chimes through.
I have my ways :)
His ways, you’re fairly sure, are either Tristian, but this is far too neat, thoughtful and pulled together. Or his Mom.
I’m calling your Mom tomorrow to thank her.
You shower quickly, sliding his shirt on after and grateful he sent it. It’s soft and has a strong, lingering scent of him woven into the worn cotton. You forgo anything else for the night and slip beneath the sheets before checking your phone again.
Can a man have no secrets?
My idea, you realize, all of it. Mum just helped make sure it fell into place exactly how I wanted it all to be for you.
Try to have a disconnected weekend. Mute shit on your phone, just not me. Delete shit if you must and reinstall it when you’re back at the office on Monday. You take care of you the next couple days. If there’s anything else you need, you tell or text me and I’ll make sure it, and you, are good. Call you after the show tonight, baby.
Day 54
Your mom just invited me to brunch and shopping with her and your sister on Saturday.
You really like his family; they’ve been nothing but warm and welcoming since Shawn introduced you all. They make you feel like you belong in this little unit with them even though you and Shawn are still navigating the newness and even more so now that you’re feeling a bit more on steady ground with him after a few weeks ago.
They miss you! And want to see you. But it’s not like I miss you. Also, closest thing to getting a real live dose of me is a dose of them. Mum’s idea. I’m all for it. Told her and Liyah you’d be game. I like you all talking and hanging out, even if it is without me. All my girls together and happy.
All my girls reverberates in your head, pinballing around your heart. It pulls at you. Your phone shakes you from your thoughts.
Don’t be worried, or nervous even. No bad motives here whatsoever. It’s a parental thing to want to do all this or so she tells me ;)
Just no crazy escapades, my sister is still a baby. Remember that.
You can’t help but giggle. This boy. How you miss him.
Ok so take off check out piercing places from the list. Good to know.
Your phone rings immediately.
Day 61
“Homestretch,” you sigh, falling deeper into the pillows. “Everything I borrowed from you doesn’t smell like you anymore. Makes me sad.”
“You know you can go into my closet or the drawers to snatch something else. Thank god it is the backstretch,” he agrees. “Soon enough, sweetheart. Me and you in that bed together.”
“S’not the same, Shawn. And you promise?” you whisper, eyes starting to flutter shut.
“Mmhmm, I’m turning my phone off for at least a week. Anyone desperately needs me; they can find me through you so it’s only the super important folks. I want us to figure out some time away from Toronto, just me and you. I want to make sure we get time for us, to make sure we get to reconnect without any noise. We’ll figure it out when I’m home with you,” he utters. “Baby, you’re fighting it. Don’t. Go get some sleep.”
“Just a little,” you murmur, nuzzling into the pillow. “Missed you though, Shawn. Wanted to talk at least even for a tiny bit. Mmm vacation. Somewhere warm, over Toronto cold.”
“Warm it is,” he whispers. “Sleep now. We’ll talk again tomorrow on FaceTime, an off day with just travel in the morning.”
“Ok, sweetheart. G’night,” you whisper.
You wake up to a text the next morning
I can absolutely get used to you calling me sweetheart especially in that sleepy, cuddly cozy voice of yours.
Day 72
You come out of the shower to a bunch texts, which isn’t out of the ordinary to have a flurry of messages in the morning, but they’re not from Shawn or Didi who are the normal culprits. This time it’s a few from Cez, another three from Connor. At first you wonder if he lost or broke his phone but that’s not the case. You open Connor’s first.
He was being nauseatingly adorable so I figured you may want to see and enjoy or gag like I did :D
The next was a video clip of the crew meandering their way through the airport, heading down an escalator.
“Hey Shawn, where we off to?” you hear Connor ask from behind the camera.
“Last shows of tour. We’re off to New York,” Shawn smiles wide. “We did it. We’re wrapping it all up. Looking forward to these, they’re special.”
“Any reason for that shit eating grin?” he teases. “That’s more than a yes, a fantastic tour is over woo look on your face. We’ve come to know a face like that when a FaceTime call rings through. Come on bro, fess up.”
His smile softens a little, cheeks flushing, “I finally get to have my girl come in. She’ll be here for the last shows of tour. She hasn’t seen this show yet at all. So, I’m excited for that. I’ve missed her. And I get to have my family here too. All the people I really care about with me for this. Best way to wrap this era.”
“I can’t wait to get this reunion on film,” Connor pokes. “Epic blackmail material.”
“You wish, man,” Shawn shoves at him. “Not happening.”
“We’ll see, I think you may want that for posterity’s sake. Could be good…” he starts in before getting interrupted.
“To New York!” someone else calls out and the group. Shawn looks at Connor and the camera, smiling again before the clip cuts out.
He looked extra sweet and all that, so I needed to send you the still from it cause it’s a thing you should have coupleish shit and all. Fly safe, we need you here in one piece for him but cause me and you, we need to drink!
You trace over the photo with your finger, you’ve missed him. This was hard, harder than you both thought despite the effort and the trying and the energy. But. But you made it, battle scars and all. You got through 72 days. It makes you realize that him, that this of the two of you. It’s worth it. He’s worth it all.
The next block from Cez are confirming all your travel details, letting you know you’re in first and alone, with his family coming in later that night.
You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s nervous, excited, a little twitchier than normal. Vibrating out of his skin practically but smiling more than I’ve seen. He’s also fighting me on wanting to come to get you at the airport. No promises, but just to prepare you. Think I may let him win this one just this once.
Text or call if you need anything in the meantime and I’ll keep an eye on all the travel timing from my end as well. Look forward to getting more time with you this weekend!
As you are heading back from some last-minute errands so you can finish packing for your super early flight tomorrow morning, your phone trills.
“I get to see you tomorrow, baby. Like in person. With hugs, kisses and you tucked up against me,” he sighs. “I get to have you in my arms and at my show and in my bed. 72 fucking days, we did it.”
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untitled kuroken fic in the lex miserables series :’) tw: eating problems, feeling disconnected from oneself, anxiety, idk if there’s depression in this lolol
the realisation that something is wrong with himself comes to kenma one day when hinata invites him to one of the firm’s after-work bonding sessions.
these bonding sessions usually take place on friday evenings, taking advantage of the happy hour policies of the bar down the street. the usual participants - tora, ryuu, noya, inuoka, lev and hinata - gather by kenma’s door while hinata beams at him expectantly, waiting for his acceptance to an invite that goes rejected every week.
it’s admirable, really, that hinata tries so hard to include him in the after-work team bonding sessions. it’s a benefit fully paid for by the firm, courtesy of the partners insisting that any costs for team bonding ought to be shouldered by the employers, but kenma is always the last person to ever take advantage of this benefit. it is probably the one single benefit of his employment that he rarely takes advantage of.
“come on, kenma, it’ll be fun!” hinata grins, radiant like the sun.
kenma blinks, steals a glance at the time displayed by the corner of his desktop, and sighs.
“sorry, shouyou, not today.” it ought to get easier each passing time he rejects hinata’s offer to drink themselves silly, but somehow it isn’t. the guilt that crawls through his skin consistently makes him sick with anxiety every time.
“it’s okay, next time, kenma! i’ll be sure to get you to come one day!”
hinata is welcome to try.
hunger faintly registers itself in his brain, but he has no appetite at all. he works backwards to identify his thought patterns for the past few days. he either stress-ate and had more meals per day than he usually did, or he didn’t eat at all despite knowing that he would get hungry the next day,
if kuroo noticed anything, kenma is only grateful that he hasn’t commented on it at all.
it feels strange, swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other end back and forth day by day. at the end of the journey, all kenma feels is bone deep exhaustion, bitter hopelessness and a sense of resignation.
on one day, he felt better, and indulged himself with an expensive unagi bento set from the michelin starred sushi restaurant down in roppongi. without digging in yet, he passed by his favourite bakery, saw his favourite apple pies fresh out of the oven, and bought two large slices on impulse.
kenma ate everything in one go for dinner. in the aftermath, the food he ingested probably washed away all the good cheer he had too. he felt sick, fat, and sluggish with too much food in his now round belly, and desperately wished that his stomach would stay flat forever instead. kenma felt disgusted with himself then, but not to the point he would stick his finger down his throat and purge everything out of his disgestive system. it was a passing thought, one he gave serious consideration to, but did not act on it because kuroo would find out.
the next day, he somehow felt dissatisfied, craved for the hash browns from mcdonald’s, and bought a breakfast set on a whim. kenma finished the entire meal on the way to work. and then he had lunch with the department, and by the time the sun was setting across the tokyo skyline, he lowkey disliked the feeling of ingesting food so much that he skipped dinner that night and forgoed all proper meals for the remaining days of the week. he survived on one single meal during lunch time, and continued to drown in the loss of appetite.
kenma hates this. he hates his relationship with food. he hates that therapy isn’t helping him to deal with this, that all the coping techniques he’s learned throughout therapy never prepared him for this. his next session with takeda-san is scheduled after another three weeks or so, and kenma is about to fling himself off the tokyo bridge if he has to continue surviving the days like this.
after hinata leaves, kenma continues to stare at his desktop, a blank expanse stretched across the monitor. he’s supposed to start on the submissions after trial for a case, but the cursor continues to blink and taunt him from the beginning of the blank page.
quietly, kenma slides open the drawer beside him, and quietly peruses the takeout menu kuroo left on his table last week before he travelled to hokkaido for a week-long trial. the yellow post-it note is still stuck onto the top left corner of the flyer.
just in case you don’t feel like going out for meals~, it reads.
it ought to feel endearing, and it would have, but kenma is stuck in some sort of fugue state with no exit in sight. so all he feels is emptiness, and disappointment in himself for failing to appreciate and capture the true emotion the post-it note meant to provide.
distantly, kenma feels the signs of hunger incoming. all he had for today was one salmon mayo onigiri from the local familymart at ground floor at noon. right now, time has trickled by and is inching closer towards 8pm. with the pandemic, restaurants will close soon.
i should order something, kenma tells himself, but the lack of appetite overpowers all semblance of rationality, disconnects his thoughts and shuts down his brain. by the time kenma leaves the office, the takeout menu is tucked back into the drawer, out of sight, out of mind.
-----------------------------------
kenma hears the sound of something frying coming from his apartment before he actually smells food in the air. the train leading home was oddly empty today for a friday evening, and kenma had almost the entire carriage to himself. hunger never came back to find him while he stared blankly out of the windows, lost to the static buzzing across his mind.
kuroo is back today, early, his brain tells him unhelpfully as he fishes out his key and unlocks the door, kuroo is cooking.
his mouth waters at the smell of fried oil wafting through the air, but somehow he still doesn’t feel hungry, nor does he feel the need to eat. if he doesn’t exert himself tonight and sleeps early, kenma is confident that he can power through the night without sustenance until lunchtime next morning.
“welcome home~” kuroo chimes, voice rising above the sizzling sound of hot oil frying in a pan.
kenma doesn’t need to wait for long before his partner appears before him in the genkan, ridiculous pink apron draped in front of his expensive armani dress shirt as he brandishes a pair of long chopsticks in kenma’s face.
“i cooked dinner.” kuroo declares proudly. because i know you have not eaten yet, goes unsaid.
what should kenma say now? i know, or that’s nice, or perhaps i’m not hungry? which response should he give that would not trigger kuroo to overreact and fuss over his recent lack of appetite? kenma doesn’t want kuroo to worry again. kuroo should only smile, and not have to worry about his wellbeing.
kuroo must have picked up on his mental dilemma, and gives him the easy way out.
“why don’t you go wash up? i’ll be done in five, then we can eat together.” he smiles, and ducks to peck a chaste kiss on kenma’s forehead before going back to the kitchen.
kenma’s heart twists in guilt.
when he’s done showering, kenma stands in front of the wardrobe mirror in nothing but kuroo’s oversized shirt hanging off his wiry frame. his face is thinner now, cheek bones more prominent. his fingers travel down from his jawline to press against the collarbones hidden beneath pale skin.
the hard touch of bones brings him comfort, somehow. with this, kenma will never have to feel disgusted with himself by eating too much and having food fill up his stomach. the sick feeling that he gets from eating one meal too much a day won’t return to haunt him anymore like this. his brain is now quiet, nothing is telling him that he needs to eat, that he needs to pick up the phone to order for food, that he needs to put on decent clothes and walk down the street to get food.
nothing, except kuroo, who is walking up to him this instant, fond expression painted across his handsome features, and planting his large hands over his hipbones.
“have i ever told you how much i love seeing you in my shirt?” kuroo dips his head and presses a kiss against kenma’s shoulder.
kenma rolls his eyes. kuroo’s smile grows wider, brighter, and he releases him after stroking his thumbs across kenma’s hipbones not once but twice.
“come, kenma,” kuroo leads him to the table, where a bowl of udon and assorted tempura awaits him. kenma’s shoulders drop a little more.
“eat,” kuroo says.
kuroo takes a seat across him, still smiling, and waits for kenma to start digging in. instead, kenma waits and counts the seconds it would take for that smile to disappear off kuroo’s face.
in this house, there is no need to pretend to force food down his oesophagus and feel shitty about it later. kenma chooses not to touch his food, just like how kuroo hasn’t touched his either.
“are you feeling unwell, kenma?” the smile is still there, perched on kuroo’s lips, but kenma notices the way it tightens a little and loses the casualness it once possessed mere seconds ago.
“... no.”
“are you not hungry?”
kenma fidgets in his seat. how does he tell kuroo that he just doesn’t feel like eating? that he looks at food and his brain doesn’t tell him to consume them for sustenance anymore?
“yeah. i’m not hungry, sorry, after you cooked and all that.” he says, quietly, like the walls of this house have ears and nowhere is safe for his ugly feelings to go.
“that’s alright, kenma. you don’t have to be sorry, we can save this for lunch tomorrow.” kuroo gestures vaguely in the air, “we have snacks. eat something. let’s not go to bed on an empty stomach.”
kenma shrinks further into his seat. he really doesn’t want to eat at all today, for some reason. the thought of food swimming in his stomach makes him feel a little sick.
“hey, kenma,” kuroo reaches out to touch him, voice soft, “what’s wrong? you can tell me, I won’t be mad.”
kuroo stands from his seat, and comes to sit beside kenma and pull the latter into his arms. he always comes to him, never the other way around. kenma doesn’t know what to make of it, but he feels touched yet guilty at the same time. he knows he should reach out to kuroo more often, reassure him whenever things are looking up, but it’s always kuroo that reaches out first because he knows and understands how difficult it is for kenma step out of his anxiety and take the first step.
kenma doesn’t deserve kuroo’s love. he will never be worthy of his affections.
“i just... don’t feel like eating. lately.” the last word comes out softer, barely a whisper, but from the way kuroo’s arms tighten around his shoulders, kenma knows kuroo has picked up the intended meaning behind his words.
“it’s okay to feel that way,” kuroo tells him kindly, “it’s okay.”
“i don’t know why. i just... feel disconnected, somehow, from myself.”
“thank you for telling me, kenma. what can i do to help?”
kenma wants to cry. well, at least that’s a feeling other than emptiness in him now.
“I don’t know, kuro.”
“we’ll figure it out. it’s okay, we’ll take baby steps, one step at a time. i will be here with you to support you.”
kenma closes his eyes and leans against kuroo’s lean body. he buries his nose into the juncture between kuroo’s neck and shoulder, seeking warmth and comfort. he feels the tension seep out of kuroo’s shoulders when kenma finally reciprocates, knowing that kenma isn’t closing himself off to the world now, to kuroo. the door leading to kenma’s being is still open and nobody has slammed any door closed yet.
kenma sighs.
“thank you,” he says.
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Heyy!! You're posts have been motivating me through this quarantine. Thank you for writing so much and spreading joy. I loved the Dreville and Laurent/Nik fic you wrote recently. A prompt i was thinking of: Like what if soon after their parents die ( Laurent is 14 and August 19), August gets into a lot of partying etc, at college, and kind of pushes away Laurent when he asks to visit, only to find out later that during that period the regent abused him. Lamen optional Thank you so much !! :)
Ahhhh thank you so much <333 I’m very glad I’m helping at least a little... I hope you’ll like this :D
TW: MENTIONS OF CSA
-------------------------------
Auguste finds out when it’s in the news.
He wakes up, same as always, hating everything and with a pounding headache; he doesn’t remember the name of the girl in his bed, and he doesn’t care, either. He’ll kick her out as soon as she wakes up.
He goes to the kitchen, searching for some painkillers; he swallows them down with tequila - a bad idea, he knows, but he doesn’t think he has any water left - and sits on the kitchen table with a groan. It’s barely seven - he never sleeps for more than a few hours at a time - and he enjoys the quiet of it.
His apartment’s a mess, but he doesn’t particularly care; he’ll call a service to clean it up later, and it’ll be trashed tonight again, and he’ll have maids coming in tomorrow, again. It’s become a routine.
He’s seriously considering going back to sleep with his forehead against the kitchen table when his phone begins to ring. He groans, jerking upright and beginning to look for it among the clothes thrown over the kitchen floor. When he finally finds it, he checks the name on the screen to make sure it’s not Laurent, feeling a pang of guilt as he does it; it’s not that he doesn’t want to see or talk to his brother, it’s just been - hard.
Their parents died three years ago, when Laurent was eleven and Auguste was seventeen, and they were both sent to live with their uncle; Auguste had left just a few months after that, after getting into college on a football scholarship - not that he needed it, since his parents left their entire fortune to him and Laurent and he’s currently wasting it away in parties and anything that makes him feel good for three minutes - and Laurent is... different now.
He’d wanted to visit Auguste a lot, at first, seeming desperate to get away, but Auguste had brushed him off whenever he could; he didn’t want Laurent to see what a mess he was. After a while, Laurent had stopped asking to visit, but he still calls. Auguste picks up sometimes, and though he usually ends the call as soon as he can, he is trying.
He knows he’s not doing very well, which is why he’s immensely relieved when it’s only Jord; he’s one of Auguste’s best friends from Arles, before Auguste moved to Delpha to go to college, but they haven’t talked since Jord called him an irresponsible dick for getting drunk every day for three months after his parents died.
“Jord?” he asks, picking up. It must be important if Jord is calling him; he’s never apologized, and Auguste hasn’t either.
“Turn on your fucking TV,” Jord snaps. “The news.”
“Which channel?” Auguste asks tiredly, walking to the living room and searching for the remote. It has to be here somewhere...
“Any fucking channel, Auguste!” He hasn’t heard Jord sound this angry... well, ever.
He gives up on searching for the remote, instead clicking the button to turn the TV on and stepping back to see the screen properly. It’s already on a news channel, and Auguste is about to ask why Jord has decided to call him at seven in the morning to tell him to turn on the news when he catches the headline.
Laurent DeVere, second son to billionaire DeVere family, taken away from his uncle because of alleged child sexual abuse
Auguste stops breathing.
“Get on a plane,” Jord snaps. “Now.”
Auguste is booking a plane ticket on his laptop before Jord has even finished the sentence.
*
The plane ride to Arles is only an hour and a half; he’s back at his Uncle’s house before ten, swallowing and knocking on the door. He’d scoured the news obsessively while on the plane. It seems no one knows who tipped off the police, but that they’d gone to their Uncle’s house to question him and seen it, seen him - doing things to Laurent; Auguste can’t think about it.
He already threw up twice.
The reporter had said their uncle had been arrested immediately, and now Laurent was awaiting for a word on what would happen; Auguste doesn’t want to think about his brother, sitting there all alone, just waiting.
The door opens, and he expects to see Laurent, but it’s not; there are three men in police uniforms there, and behind them, Auguste can see many more; the house had been swarmed by reporters, yelling and taking pictures, so Auguste had had to sneak in through the back of the iron-wrought fence, an old spot he’d quickly learned of after he’d begun sneaking off to parties at night.
His uncle might’ve known, and simply not stopped him because it was convenient for him.
Auguste nearly retches again.
“I’m Auguste DeVere,” he says. “I’m here to see my brother.”
“No one is allowed in or out,” one of the officers tells him. “You have to get off the property.”
“He’s my brother,” Auguste snaps. “And he’s fifteen. I’m here to see him.”
“You’re the brother, then.” Behind the officers, steps up a woman; she has olive skin and long, wavy brown hair. “I’ll take care of him.”
The officers leave, and Auguste tries not to sound too impatient when he says, “Yes. And who are you?”
The woman smiles grimly. “My name is Kashel. I’m your brother’s social worker. We’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
Auguste had forgotten his phone in the apartment after kicking the girl he’d slept with out. He grimaces.
“Social worker?” he asks. “Why does Laurent need a social worker?”
Kashel looks at him like she’s not entirely sure if he’s dumb.
“Well,” she says, careful. “Seeing as your brother’s fifteen and his current guardian is awaiting trial for child abuse, we need to find him another one for the time being, and then someone permanent.”
“I am,” Auguste says, without hesitation. “I will be. His guardian.”
“Mr. DeVere, we don’t give children to anyone-”
“I’m his brother!”
“You smell like alcohol,” Kashel says bluntly. Auguste rears back, surprised. “And tobacco, and it’s nine thirty in the morning. You look like you haven’t slept, you didn’t answer any of our insistent calls for two hours, and, if I’m not wrong, you’re a university student. You’re not exactly in peak condition to take care of another human being.”
Auguste can’t find anything to say; he cannot - Laurent cannot go to someone else, he just can’t. Sure, Auguste hasn’t been the best brother these past few years, and he’ll have to change everything about his life before it’s even acceptable for Laurent to be near, but he has to take care of him, Laurent is the most important person in the world to him.
He doesn’t know how he seems to have forgotten that.
“I-” he tries. Then again, “I-”
“Right now, you can see him,” Kashel says kindly; she doesn’t look to be older than him, must be only twenty one, and yet she seems calm, entirely put together. Auguste feels like his life is falling apart. “I’ll take you to him.”
Auguste steps inside numbly, watching as a dozen people walk around the house, each doing different things; he doesn’t know what they’re all doing, and, quite frankly, he doesn’t care. He wants to see his brother.
Kashel takes him upstairs, to Laurent’s room - walking through his uncle’s house is a surreal experience. Auguste never thought he’d be back here - and, before she opens the door, she looks at him sternly.
“Do not promise him anything,” she says. “Don’t pressure him to tell you anything, and don’t push for details-”
“I don’t need an instruction manual to talk to my brother,” Auguste snaps.
She purses her lips. “As I’ve heard it, you wouldn’t know, seeing as you haven’t spoken to him for a while.”
Auguste pales, but she does not look in the least apologetic.
“I devote my life to these children, Mr. DeVere,” she says. “My priority here is keeping him safe and not to make this any harder than it already has been. If I have to keep him safe from you, I’ll do that, too.”
Auguste nods.
She looks him over once again, and then knocks on the door softly.
“Laurent,” she says, opening the door slightly; her tone is nothing like the one he’d used on Auguste before. She steps through and then closes the door in Auguste’s face.
He waits impatiently, listening to her talking to Laurent; he can’t quite make out the words, but he assumes she’s asking him if he’s willing to see him. He doesn’t hear Laurent’s response, but, a second later, the door opens, and Kashel steps aside with one last menacing look towards him.
Seeing Laurent is more surreal than walking through the house was; he looks unbelievably thin, somehow exactly as Auguste remembers him and not like that at all, dark bags under his eyes and a look on his face that Auguste has never seen before and wishes to never see again.
He tries to smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Laurent is impossibly quiet.
They’re both silent for a while, and it seems maybe Auguste did need a manual on how to talk to his brother; he wishes he’d paid more attention to Kashel. Don’t promise him anything. Don’t pressure him.
“I-” he tries. I’m sorry? Laurent would have every right to kick him out for saying that. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you try to tell me and I didn’t answer the phone? When you wanted to visit and I said no, why didn’t you insist more?
That wouldn’t be fair; Laurent had made countless efforts to talk to him, to be with him, and Auguste had felt bad about pushing him away, but now... knowing what was going on while he was at parties and refusing to talk to Laurent, it’s a million times worse.
“I-” He doesn’t know what to say. He sees it clearly in Laurent’s face, how uncomfortable he is in the room, and though fury boils inside him, he ignores it. “We can go somewhere else.”
Laurent nods immediately; as they go from room to room, Auguste watches him. They don’t step into Uncle’s rooms, because Auguste assumes most of it happened there, but he searches Laurent’s face for any sign of discomfort any time they go somewhere; the dining room doesn’t work, and neither does the kitchen.
Laurent grimaces in the living room, and wraps his arms around himself warily in Auguste’s old room; the Laundry room doesn’t draw as big a reaction as anywhere else, but it’s also noticeable, so Auguste doesn’t want them to stay there. When he is considering giving up - this was happening, after all, for three years in this house - they walk into the library, and Laurent’s face is sweet relief.
Auguste exhales.
“You’re here,” Laurent says, after he curls himself into the big armchair.
“I am.” Auguste swallows. Laurent doesn’t look at him, and Auguste swallows again. “Laurent, I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry,” Laurent says, at the same time, and they both look at each other surprised.
“Why are you sorry?” Auguste asks, surprised.
“I-” Laurent’s cheeks are red, suddenly, stained as though he’s been slapped. “I tried to - I didn’t want to give you any trouble - and I’ve made you come all the way here - and now Uncle’s in jail and it’s my fault-”
“What?” Auguste asks. “What?”
“I swore I wouldn’t-” Laurent’s eyes are bright, wet, and he blinks quickly. “He told me I would just bother you and he was right - I swear it wasn’t me who called the police, I didn’t mean for any of this-”
“Laurent, what are you talking about?” Auguste asks, heart beating wildly. “I’m not angry at you. I don’t care if it was you who called the police. Fuck, if it had been you I would’ve said well-done. I’m sorry I left you here, I made it so hard to reach me-”
“It’s not your fault,” Laurent says; he’s nothing like Auguste remembers him; he’s clothed from neck to wrist to toe, everything tightly fitted and dark, nothing like the child Auguste remembers. “I know I’m - a bother, and I really didn’t-”
“Laurent, you never bother me.”
“You didn’t want to see me.”
And isn’t that just perfect? Auguste had been unknowingly helping along a narrative their Uncle had been telling Laurent, about being a bother, about being unloved, Auguste had made him feel all those things.
Fuck; he doesn’t know how he’s fucked up so severely.
“I-” Auguste swallows. “Laurent, I’m not... perfect. I wasn’t - I’m not having the easiest time, and I didn’t want you to see me like that and I was selfish, I never once thought about-”
About what might be going on with his brother, never once saw the signs that were probably already there.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hollowly.
“I-” Laurent wipes at his eyes desperately, and sounds oddly fragile when he speaks. “Can I - stay with you? I don’t want to go anywhere else-”
“Of course,” Auguste says immediately. “Fuck, Laurent, I’d never let you go to anyone else, I - I love you, so much, I’m so sorry-”
“Promise me, please, promise I-”
Don’t promise anything, Kashel had said. You’re not exactly in peak condition to take care of another human being.
Auguste doesn’t care; he’ll get custody of Laurent, whatever he has to do, however he has to change his life for it.
“I promise,” he says.
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Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Three
a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.
Warnings: TW. - THE R-WORD IS USED IN THIS PART! Fluff and Smut.
Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)
Sunday morning Harry got up to start editing the photos. He dug up an old album he never used so he could place them in there for you once they were printed. He wanted you to sleep so he could get everything done. The photos were incredible. He thought you looked stunning. He edited them so they were all black and white and touched up some other things. He started printing them when he heard you walking around downstairs.
“Harry?” You call for him sleepily.
“Up here babe, be down in a minute!”
Once the pictures are dry enough he fills up the album. He sees you curl up on the couch with a cup of coffee. He comes down and plops right next to you.
“They’re all done. Wanna see?”
“How early did you get up to do this?”
“Early…I was too excited.” He chuckles.
“Okay, lemme see.”
You lean into him and he opens the album. You mouth falls open when you look at the pictures. He did an amazing job.
“You’re so talented Harry, I actually like the way I look!”
“That’s all you, babe, you’re gorgeous.” You kiss him on the cheek.
“Oh my god!” You gasp at the ones of you touching yourself. “I’m not awake enough for this.” You laugh. “I’m gonna go put this away in my closet, okay? It’ll be easy for you to find while I’m away. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”
“Anytime.”
//
Your week with Mark was easier. He kept his distance as much as he could.
“So, you have a half day today?” He asks you Friday morning. He couldn’t help but look at your butt in your jeans.
“Yup, I have to pack and then my mom is spending the night with us so we can get to the airport easier tomorrow.” You pull some sheets of paper from a file folder. “Here’s what I’ll need you to work on next week while I’m gone. Niall has a copy too and he will be checking in.”
“I don’t need to be babysat. What do I do if I finish all this?”
“Go see Niall, he’ll have work for you.”
“Do you ever have fun here, like ever?”
“I have fun all the time, with Niall, because he’s my friend. You, Mark, are not my friend.”
“Yeah, you’ve made that plenty clear.” He huffs.
“Good, that was my intention.” You give him a fake smile.
“You could try to warm up to me, I’m not a bad guy. We’re going to be working together for a while longer.” You scoff at him.
“You burned your bridge with me a long time ago.”
“Are you sure that’s it? Or are you afraid your boyfriend will get jealous?”
“Harry? Jealous of you?” You start laughing. “What’s there to be jealous of?”
“A stable job, an actual future…”
“His job is very stable, he gets paid well, and-“
“Doesn’t he have to freelance?”
“He freelances because he loves what he does and he likes making people happy. He’s insanely talented.”
“Why not open his own studio then?”
“He will, it’s just not the right time, and…you know what? I don’t have to explain a thing to you.” You shake your head at him. “I’m leaving now, see you when I get back.” He follows you out of your office and you lock it. “You are not to go in here while I’m gone, understand?”
“Mhm.”
You say goodbye to Niall with a big hug and head out the door to your place. You had a lot of packing to do. Harry came home from work early so he could spend some time with you before your mom got there.
“Ah! Son of a bitch!” He hears you yelp and he runs into the bedroom.
“Y/N?!” He stops short when he sees you clutching at your stomach.
“Hi, sorry, I just can’t get my piercing out for some reason. It’s a little tender from the last time I changed it.” You groan. “Fuck it, I’m leaving it in. They won’t see it anyways.”
He comes over to the bed and picks up a couple of your swim suits.
“These are cute.” He holds them up to his body and makes a modeling pose.
“Give me that!” You giggle and snatch it from him.
“Do yeh need help with anythin’?”
“No these were the last few things.” You close the lid on your suitcase. “Actually, could you bring that down to your car for me?”
“You got it.” He kisses the top of your head and grabs the bag.
When he comes back up you both eat a quick dinner and he takes you into the bedroom.
“She’ll be here soon…”
“Let me just love on you for a little while.” He nuzzles into your neck. You can’t resist him when he’s like this.
He makes love to you…twice. You force yourselves out of bed when your mom texts you that she’s downstairs. You both go down to greet her and Harry takes her larger bag down to the car.
“It looks amazing in here! You both have done such an incredible job decorating.”
“Thanks mumma. The guest room is all made up for you.”
“Perfect, well, I think I’ll head to bed now since we have to be up so early, night kids.”
“Night!” You give her a hug and kiss and off she goes. You look at Harry. “We should go to bed too. We have to get up at like four.”
“Sounds good.”
He cuddles you all night, and you wouldn’t have had it either way. The three of you were quiet it in the car the next morning. It was far too early to speak. Harry takes the bags out of the car for the both of you. Your mom goes into the airport to give you both some privacy to say goodbye.
You wrap your arms around each other and you feel wetness from his tears on your neck.
“It’s only a week, seven sleeps. I’m back next Saturday night.” You say into his ear.
“I know, I’m just gonna miss my sweet baby girl so much.” He pulls back to look at you. You wipe his tears with your thumbs.
“And I’ll miss my doll. Just look at the pictures when you miss me. I’m not going to have a lot of access to the internet. Only at the timeshare really.”
“So I don’t need to be a good boy?” He smirks. You smile at him and shake your head.
“No, I won’t torture you.” You sigh. “Kiss me, I need to head inside.”
He kisses you, boy does he kiss you. Your head is spinning when he lets go of you.
“I love you so much, as soon as I have WiFi I’ll text you, okay?”
“I love you too, have a safe flight.”
He watches you walk in, and then he gets back into the car. This was going to be the longest week of his life.
//
You texted Harry as you could like you said, and you told him you were planning to unplug for a bit, other than posting a few pictures to your Instagram story. He took a nap when he got home, and woke up a few hours later. Him and Niall decided to grab a bite to eat together at their favorite diner.
“Sarah and I are goin’ out for our six month tonight, otherwise I’d invite you out for drinks tonight.”
“No worries, mate. What are the two of yeh plannin’ on doin’?”
“Takin’ her out for a nice dinner. She said she had a big surprise for me tonight and that she didn’t wanna be out too late.” He shrugs.
“Did you get anythin’ f’her?”
“Yeah, I bought her a new anklet, she loves wearin’ ‘em.”
“Oh, I bet she’ll love that. She stays at your place a lot, yeah?”
“Yeah, almost every night now.”
“Think you’ll ask her to move in soon?”
“I don’t know if she wants to leave Rachel just yet. Although, word on the street is that Mariah’s been stayin’ over quite a bit at their place.”
“They’re a match made. I might hang out with them durin’ the week. I’ve been thinkin’ more about my freelance work lately. I think if I were to ever go for it full time I’d ask Mariah to come with me. She could work with clients I didn’t have time more, plus, I genuinely trust her. Then, once we made a lot of money, I’d steal Isaac too. He’s the best receptionist.”
“You’ve clearly thought this through.”
“Here and there. I just enjoy working with people a lot more. It doesn’t even feel like work. And it would be nice to have my own schedule. Guess I could just get state insurance…”
“Or you could marry Y/N and just go on her insurance.” Niall jokes.
“Plannin’ on it, mate.” Niall nearly chokes on his food.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not sayin’ it’ll be tomorrow, but I think once she and I have been together for a year I’m gonna propose. We’re at eight months now.”
“Do yeh have a ring yet?”
“I have one in mind, yeah. There’s a jewelry store in London that I like. Saw what style of ring she likes. I’ve called the jeweler a couple of times. They have a site so I can essentially design it myself. I could pick it up this summer when I go home.”
“Harry…I…I’m so happy for you. I’ve never seen you like this with someone before. She’s really the one, huh?”
“She really is. I can’t explain it...I think I knew before I took her to meet my family that I wanted her forever, but that trip solidified how I felt. And I know she feels the same way. We’ve talked about it.”
“That’s great. I can’t picture her endin’ up with anyone else.” He smiles. “Not to change the subject, but I was thinkin’ you and I could go out for a boys night on Thursday.”
“Yeah! I’d like that. Been a while since just the two of us went for a drink.”
//
By Sunday night, Harry was already missing you too much and he decided to get the photo album out of your closet. A few glances couldn’t hurt. You had posted a few things to your story. He couldn’t wait to see your sun kissed skin when you got back.
As he was rummaging through the top shelf of your closet, he lost his balance and pulled down a box, and the contents spilled out.
“Shit.” He recognized the box…it was your special box that you used to keep under the bed. There were some new items still in a bag. He pick it up and his eyes widen. “What the…” He takes the cockring out and is genuinely shocked. “Was she plannin’ t’use this on me?” Then he grabs the box the butt plug was in. “Holy shit!” He smirks. “Does she wanna use this on me too? No fuckin’ way she wants this up her ass…”
Normally Harry would tease you about these things, but he figured you hid them for a reason. So he puts everything back and finds the photo album. He gets on the bed and does his pants while he looks at the pictures of you. Just as he was about to play with himself, his phone rang, and it was you.
“Hey baby!” Your voice was music to his ears.
“Hey! How’s vacation?”
“So good, I just came inside to grab some water so I thought I’d call quick.”
“Well, thanks for thinkin’ of me. How’s your Nan?”
“She’s great! She’s really happy my mom and I are here. We’re gonna go to a casino tomorrow, I’m excited. And Tuesday night is the night we’re gonna go dancing. I’ll have to send you some pictures.”
“Please do! I was lookin’ at some right now actually.” You blush.
“Harry!”
“What? You told me I could.”
“I guess that’s true…were you, um, you know?”
“Was about to...wanna help me along?”
“Hold on, let me go into the bathroom in case anyone comes in.”
He half expected you to say no. He hears you flip the bathroom fan on.
“Where is everyone else?”
“There’s a bonfire tonight.”
“Ah.”
“So…where were you?”
“Hadn’t event taken my pants off yet.” He chuckles.
“Okay, take them off then.” You were hushing your voice which was only turning him on more.
Harry adjusts his cock out of his pants and grips it.
“Rub the tip with your thumb like how I do, baby.”
He closes his eyes and just does as you say as you’re saying it. His top rubs over his thumb and he spreads the precome up his shaft.
“Now, I want you to-“ You go silent for a moment.
“Babe?”
“I’ll just be a minute, Nannie!”
And just like that his dick went limp at the thought of your grandmother.
“I’m so sorry, she knocked on the door, um, I-“
“It’s fine, I, uh, lost it.” You both giggle.
“I’ll try to call tomorrow, I gotta go. Apparently someone’s grilling and making drinks, so I need to get back out there.”
“Okay, have fun. Love you.”
“Love you too!!”
//
You did your best to send Harry pictures of your different tropical outfits. You did well to hide your naval piercing from your mom and grandmother. Thank god for high waisted shorts and pants. Your skin was getting more tan as each day passed. One more you all decide to take a trip downtown before going to the pool for the day. You only went to the beach at night due to how strong the sun was.
There was a jewelry store your Nannie loved going to. Your Papa would take her to it all the time, and you remember going when you were a senior in high school. He bought you the most beautiful bracelet for being the best baby in the world.
The three of you looked around. Not being someone who loved to wear jewelry, you were mostly looking for something to buy for Harry.
“Honey, can I ask, why don’t you just that ring resized?” Nannie asks.
“Harry bought me this chain so I could wear it like this. It looks more like a slide than a ring anyways. We both like it like this.”
“Alright.”
You had already gotten him the pearls, and lord knows he doesn’t need anymore necklaces or rings. What the fuck could you get him that he didn’t already have? As you continue to walk by everything, a particular ring catches your eye. It’s white gold and has a sunflower on it. If you were going to wear his rose, maybe he could wear your sunflower? Although, he already wore one on his skin every day for you. But something about the detail in the ring just made sense.
“Excuse me, I’d like to look at this one.” You say to the jeweler. He takes it out for you and you know you have to get for Harry. You give the jeweler his ring size and he tells you to come back the next day and it’ll be ready.
Your mom buys you a pair of studs for years and you put them in right away. The ones Harry had gotten for you months ago sat in your first holes, and the ones your mom just got you would sit in your doubles. They complemented each other perfectly.
//
Thursday night Harry went with Niall to a bar they hadn’t been to in a while. They were both excited to have a guy’s night.
“So, I never asked, how was the anniversary evening?” Niall’s face went red immediately. “What was her big surprise? Did she like the anklet?”
“She loved the anklet, yeah.” He takes a sip of his drink. “She bought me…some things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Um…”
“Niall, I have fucked two separate women with you, I think you can tell me what Sarah bought you.”
“Okay, okay. She bought a cockring from some sex shop.” Harry nearly spat out his drink.
“They both them together?!”
“What?!”
“I found one in Y/N’s closet the other day. Still the packaging and everything, but still. So Sarah used it on you?”
“Well, yeah.” Harry smirks at his friend.
“How’d you like it?”
“It was…interesting. I use her vibrator on her all the time so she said she wanted to do the same to me or somethin’ like that. It was sorta nice for the both of us, but it was a lot to leave on for a while.”
“She actually lets you use it on her? Y/N said she’d feel weird, that’s why I was shocked when I found the other things she bought.”
“Things? What else was there?” Harry’s face heats up.
“There was, um, a butt plug.” He says quietly. Niall starts laughing.
“Think she wants to fuck your shit up a bit.”
“How do you know she doesn’t want me to use it on her?”
“Because Sarah got one too and she wants to use it on me before she lets me get in her like that.”
“Did she use it on you?!”
“Not yet…I told her I’d have to think about it. I don’t know how worth it is.”
“You should humor her, mate, trust me, it’s worth it. So tight.”
“Alright, alright.” They both laugh. They hear a ton of commotion from behind them. “Think there’s a bachelor party happenin’.” Niall says.
“Looks like it, yeah.” Harry squints. “Lad looks familiar, doesn’t he?”
Niall turns fully around to look at where Harry’s looking. His eyes grow wide.
“Where have seen him before?” Harry says.
“Harry, we should pay our tab and go somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“Because…that’s Jake.” Harry’s mouth falls open and then his jaw tenses. “We can’t cause a scene. I can’t believe that girl he was skating with is still going to marry him. Probably lied right to her face.”
Harry would never forget watching you self implode at the ice rink. He wanted to bash Jake’s head in.
“We can’t start a fight with him, we need to go.”
Harry nods and gets up. The two go up to the bar to pay their tabs. A few of the guys from the bachelor party bump into them, one being Jake.
“Sorry about that, our boy’s getting married this weekend, he’s a little out of it.”
Harry and Niall look in their direction, but don’t say anything. They look the three up and down and put their attention back on the bar.
…
Everything else was a blur. Harry wasn’t sure when his fist connect with Jake’s jaw, or when Niall pulled him off of him after nearly choking him out. He wasn’t sure when Jake got a swing in, but he knew his nose was bruised. Not broke, but definitely bruised. They were all thrown out of the bar.
“I should press charges! You threw the first punch! How am I supposed to explain this to my fiancé?!” Jake’s friends were trying to pull him away from Harry and Niall, but it was no use.
“You should press charges?!” Harry started laughing. “You’ve done far worse things. If anyone deserves to be locked up it’s you!”
“I have no idea who you are or what you’re talking about….wait a second…you both were at the ice rink that night. My fiancé almost broke up with me!”
“Good.” Niall says.
“Who are the two of you? She kept asking me what I did, but I had no idea what to tell her.” Jake’s friends let go of him as he’s calmed a bit. Niall and Harry look at each other.
“You raped my girlfriend a year and half ago.” Harry says bluntly.
“Raped?! I’ve never done something like that. Your girlfriend’s crazy if she told you something like that.”
“I could easily snap your neck in half, I wouldn’t talk about her like that if I were you.”
“Do you recognize this girl?” Niall pulls a picture up of you on his phone. Jake squints at it. Everyone was still really drunk. He felt hazy, but he nodded.
“Went out with her a few times, yeah. But I didn’t rape her.”
“Yes you did.” Niall says. “You fucked her until she bled out on her sheets.”
“Didn’t you see it on you when you pulled out?”
“I just thought maybe it was her first time or something.”
“You’d fuck someone that hard when you thought it was their first time?” Harry asks exasperated.
“It’s not like she told me to stop, thought she was enjoying it.” He shrugs.
“She was too fuckin’ scared to tell you to stop! You didn’t even ask her if she wanted to.”
“That’s her word against mine.” He crosses his arms.
“She threw up after she saw you at the ice rink, I don’t think she was exaggerating.” Niall says. “She’s got the bag with the sheets you know. Probably has plenty of your DNA still on it. All she has to do is press charges and your ass is done. So you should be very scared. Any day at any time your entire world could come crumbling down.” Niall looks at Harry. “C’mon, let’s go.”
The two walk away, leaving Jake and his friends stunned. Niall gets Harry inside your apartment, and get some ice into a rag.
“Did he break it?” He asks, pressing it gently to his nose.
“No, but it’s gonna leave a bruise. Feel sorry for him, probably gonna have an indent of my rings in his jaw for a week.” Harry takes the ice from Niall, and winces when he presses it a little hard to himself. “Y/N is gonna be so mad. I can’t lie to her about this.”
“Look, at least you weren’t arrested. It could’ve been worse.”
“I can’t believe you threatened him like that.”
“He ruined her life! I want him to know she could just as easily ruin his. He should be grateful she hasn’t.”
“And for him to say he didn’t rape her? What a fuckin’ lunatic.”
“Think you’re gonna have some dark circles under your eyes, mate.”
“Shit.” He sighs. “I don’t even remember hittin’ him.”
“I think he bumped into you again and you lunched at him.” He starts laughing. “I don’t think I’ve seen you reach your boilin’ point like that in a very long time.”
“I should call her.”
“It’s late.”
“She might be up, I need to call her.”
“Put it on speaker, maybe she’ll take it easier on you if she knows I’m here.”
“Good idea.”
//
You were eating some ice cream on the couch watching a move with your mom and Nannie after spending some time at the Casino. You couldn’t wait to show Harry his ring. Your phone goes off, and you’re sort of shocked to see him calling so late. You get up and go into your grandmother’s bedroom to have some privacy.
“Harry? It’s late babe, are you alright? I’m in the middle of a movie, I can’t help you along tonight.” You hear Niall burst out laughing. “Am I on speaker?! Is this a drunk call?!”
“Sorry, sorry, yeah you’re on speaker.” He swats at Niall. “I’m okay, but somethin’ not so chill happened tonight…”
“Like what?”
“We were at a bar…” Niall starts. “And there was this bachelor party happenin’, and, um…”
“Jake was there.” You freeze and walk further into the bedroom and into the ensuite.
“So what happened?”
“Well, we got up to leave.” Niall says.
“But him and his friends kept bumpin’ into us at the bar, and I lost my cool.”
“What does that mean Harry?” Your eyes were starting to water.
“I don’t know how it all happened because it happened so fast, but I hit him, and then I choked him. Niall got me off him, but he got a swing at my face, punched me in the nose. The bouncer threw us all out. No one called the police…”
“Oh my god! Are, are you alright? Did he break your nose?”
“No, it’s just bruised, love.” He tries to say softly to calm you down.
“Harry, you can’t just go around hitting people! You could’ve been arrested!”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. It just happened.”
“What happened after you left the bar?”
“We…had some words.” Niall says.
“What kinds of words?”
“I threatened him…”
“He wouldn’t admit what he did to you was rape either.” You wince at the word and nearly vomit.
“You brought me up?! You both, you both are FUCKING IDIOTS! I, I don’t even know what to say right now.”
“We were comin’ from a good place-“
“Niall, I swear to god, just shut the fuck up.” You take a deep breath. “You both are so stupid! Were you all drunk too?”
“Yes.” They say in unison.
“Well that’s just great. Thanks so much for defending my honor. I’m so glad you called to tell me all of this at nearly one in the morning!”
“Would you rather I pick you and your mum up at the airport with a bruised nose with zero explanation?”
“What am I supposed to tell her?! You got into a bar fight? Yeah, that’ll go over really well. You better put some makeup or something over it.” There’s silence for a moment or two. “You both are alright?”
“Yes.” They say together again.
“Okay.” You sigh. “I’m going to get back to what I was doing, and try to calm down. I love you both, goodnight.”
Before they can say anything, you’ve hung up, and made your way back to the living area. Your mom and Nannie were looking at you with concern.
“Harry and Niall got into a fight with someone at a bar. They’re both fine, I can’t really get into it right now, so please don’t ask me about it.” You plop down next your mom, tears starting to burn your cheeks. She throws an arm around you and lets you cry into her. Your Nannie rubs your back to try to soothe you.
//
You soak up as much sun as you can the next couple of days. You were trying to keep your head clear. Mariah helped Harry buy and apply some makeup to make his bruises more subtle. He looked terrible, honestly.
“There.” She says, dabbing the last bit under his eyes. “Now you just look like you haven’t slept.” She smirks.
“Thanks.” He throws everything into a bag. “I hope I can remember how to do all this on my own tomorrow.”
“You said she told her mom right?”
“Yeah, but it looks so much worse than it is, I don’t want them to worry even more.”
“You’re lucky it didn’t break.”
“I know. I wish he would just move across the country or somethin’.”
“Yeah, but he’s not. You can’t just throw down every time you happen to bump into him.”
“Obviously.”
“Jesus, H, you look like shit.” Myk says walking into his office. “Are you wearing makeup?”
“This is why I usually work from home on Fridays.” He groans. “And yes I am, nothin’ wrong with a man wanting to cover some blemishes.”
“A blemish, or a bruise?” She squints at him. “What happened?” She actually looks concerned.
“I got into a little…scrap last night, okay?”
“Are you alright?”
“As if you care, Myk.”
“I do!” Her eyes soften. Mariah stands there awkwardly looking back and forth to the two of them.
“Well…I’m fine. Looks worse than it feels.”
“You should just go home for the rest of the day, I’m sure Chris won’t care.”
“I don’t need to go home, I’m fine.” He looks at the two of them. “Really, it’s all good. Shoulda seen the other guy.”
“Did you have your rings on when you hit him?” Mariah asks.
“Course I did.”
“And he’s not pressing charges?” Mykenzie asks.
“I don’t think he will be, no.” He sighs. “It’s fine.”
“Does your girlfriend know?” Myk asks.
“I called her the night it happened. She wasn’t thrilled. She’s really worried about me, but she’s less angry now.”
“Why did you-“
“Enough with the questions please! The two of yeh are givin’ me a headache. Maybe I will go home.”
He grabs his things and heads out, leaving them both there. He just wants you home with him. He wants to apologize in person for starting something that didn’t need to be started. It was the longest week of his life, and he missed you so much he could cry. In fact, he did a couple times.
//
Harry spent the day Saturday doing all the chores you usually did together. He wanted the place to be spotless for your return. He was to pick you up the airport around six. Your sister would be picking your mom up. He dabbed some of the makeup on under eyes and around his nose just in case your mom was still with you when he picked you up.
You hugged your mom goodbye after you both got your luggage. You were exhausted. You couldn’t fall asleep on the plane, and there was a lot of turbulence so your stomach felt like shit. You were just happy you had a good time and a good tan. You waited out on the curb and looked for Harry’s car. He spots you and waves excitedly, almost forgetting he’s in trouble.
He throws the car in park and gets out. He picks you up and spins you around and you throw your arms around him. Tears prick at the both of your eyes for different reasons. He sets you down, cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you. Suddenly you forget any ill feelings you had. His lips on yours was like pure heaven after being deprived for a week. A few cars beep at you, so Harry puts your bag in the trunk and off you go.
“Doesn’t look so bad…” You finally say.
“I, uh, put some make up on over it. It looks a lot worse than it feels.” He sighs. “Do you really wanna talk about this now? I’d much rather hear about your trip. Your face is so tan! You look great, babe.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it all actually…and thank you.” You put your hand on his thigh. “What’s done is done.” He nods.
“Are yeh hungry? Want me to stop somewhere quick on the way home?”
“No, I had a sandwich on the plane. I’m desperate for a shower. We went to the pool this morning and I didn’t have time to rinse off before we packed up.”
“Alright.”
Harry gets you home, and helps with your bag.
“So they didn’t notice your piercing?”
“No they did.” You laugh.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He laughs with you.
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “My mom noticed it right away and it was whatever. My Nannie was like at least it’s not a tattoo. So I was able to wear more of my two pieces, I’m glad I packed some.”
You start taking your clothes off and he follows you into the bathroom.
“Holy shit.” He looks you up and down. “You really got some sun.”
“Mhm, I’m crispier than a chicken nugget, and I love it. I didn’t wear makeup all week either, my skin is so happy right now.” You step into the hot water and Harry sits up on the sink counter. He didn’t feel like showering, but did feel like continuing to chat.
“Did yeh win any at the casino?”
“Mostly just broke even. It was a lot of fun though. I’ll have to show you some of the pictures I took.”
Harry gets up and grabs an envelope from his dresser that he’s been waiting to give you. You get out of the shower and wrap a towel around you.
“God I feel so much better.” He has a huge smile on his face. “What?”
“Here, got his a while ago, thought you should know.”
“Is this a bribe so I don’t stay mad about you getting into a bar fight?” You smirk.
“Nope. You can be mad as long as you want, I know it was stupid.”
“I almost wish I could see what you did to him.” You shake your head and take the envelope. You open it up and gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth. “Harry!” You beam at him. “When did you…”
“Bought ‘em the second they went on sale. Fifth row, dead center.”
“Oh my god! We’re going to see the Weeknd?!”
“Happy very early birthday, babe.”
You throw your arms around his neck and hold him tight.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m so excited!” You kiss him on the cheek. “Will you hold onto these?”
“Yup, I’ll stick ‘em back in my dresser.”
You go into your carry on and rummage in it, pulling out a black box.
“I got you a little something while I was away.” You hand him the box.
“You didn’t have to do tha’…”
“Just open it.”
He opens the box and sees the sunflower ring. His jaw drops and he looks at you.
“Way too expensive.”
“Oh well, can’t return it now. Try it on. I got it for the size of your middle finger.”
Harry takes one of his rings off and puts it on. His nails were recently painted pastel purple for the Easter holiday. He loved the way the white gold contrasted with it.
“So…you were at the store, saw this, and thought of me?” He asks without looking at you, fixated on the ring.
“Mhm. I thought since I wear your favorite flower, you could wear mine. Not everyone can see your tattoo. Do you…do you like it?”
“Like it?” His eyes were glossy. “I love it!”
He comes over to you and cups your cheeks his hands and kisses you. Your hands go on his hips.
“M’never takin’ it off.” He says against your lips. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open up for him. His tongue molds with yours and moan into him right away. “Miss me a little?” He whispers.
“Missed you a lot.” You look up at him. “I barely slept most nights.” You pout.
“You’ll sleep good tonight, I’ll make sure of it.” He undoes your towel and lets it pool at your feet. “I can’t get over these tan lines.” He says, cupping your breasts.
You tug at the hem of his shirt and he takes it off. He undoes his pants as you sit back on the bed.
“I can’t, um, go down on yeh unfortunately, as much I really want to. Nose it too sore.”
“It’s okay. Your fingers aren’t sore, right?” You smirk and he bites his bottom lip.
“Nope.”
He crawls on the bed and you part your legs for him. He sucks two fingers into his mouth and grazes them against your folds.
“Did you look at the pictures while I was gone?”
“Yes.” He blushes as he rubs circles on your clit. “More than I’d like to admit.” You giggle.
His fingers push inside you, and curl up. Your head rolls back and your mouth falls open. He really wants to lick you, but he knows he would end up nose deep and that was just not good for his health at the moment. He pumps in and out of you and hit that sweet spot inside.
“Fuck, Harry.” You breathe as your eyes roll into the back of your head. “That’s it right there.”
He pumps faster. Your nails dig into his shoulders. He can feel you clenching around him, wanting to clamp your legs together, but he keeps them spread apart. Your back arches and you moan his name again as you release onto his fingers. He sucks them back into his mouth to at least get a little taste of you.
Harry wondered when you’d wanna break out the new toys. He desperately wanted to ask, but he knew you must have hid them for a reason and he didn’t want you to feel embarrassed.
“Lay back doll, I wanna ride you.”
Harry smiles and does what you say. He sits up against the head board and you crawl onto his lap. You wrap your hand around his dick and play with his top with your thumb. You kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He groans against you as you stroke his dick. You raise your hips slightly and slowly lower yourself onto him. You both groan with satisfaction.
“You feel so good.” You say into his ear. “So snug.” You raise and lower on him until you find a good rhythm. You nibble on his earlobe and his hands slide to your ass to help you move faster on him.
“Missed you so much, fuck.” He practically whimpers when you tighten and loosen around him a few times. He grits his teeth as he thrusts up into you, the both of you moving in sync together.
“Tell me how good it feels, Harry.” You say into his ear with a whisper.
“Feels so fuckin’ good.” His fingers press harder into your ass. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.” One his hands moves to rub your clit and you sink your teeth into his neck.
“God, fuck me up Harry.” Both of his eyebrows raise. You clench around him and your second release comes.
He doesn’t give you time to recover before your face down on the bed, and he’s entering you from behind. He pulls your hips back. You move your ass back against him in sync with his thrusts so you can feel him as deep as you possibly can. You’re propped up on your elbows with your back arched.
“Alright?” He grunts.
“Yes! Don’t stop, you’re hitting it.” You grip at the blankets, making your knuckles go white. He was hitting your g-spot with such ferocity you knew you’d be coming again soon.
He has one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. He was absolutely railing you, and it felt amazing. You had sex like this all the time when you were in college, before the anything bad happened to you.
The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. To put it bluntly, your cheeks were getting clapped. You could feel his balls slapping against you and it was making you go cross eyed.
“Harry!” You moan.
“Gonna come again?”
“Yes! Fuck, yes.”
“Go on, Y/N, come for me.”
Your back arches more and he grips the back of your neck so hard he’s yanking your back to him. One arm snaking between your breasts to hold you steady, and the other moving to rub your clit. Your head rolls back on his shoulder. You’re panting and gasping as you come. It was so intense your vision went blurry.
“Can I bend you over the bed?” He says, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You gasp at the feeling.
“Yes.”
You both get off the bed, and he bends you over it. He slips back inside you with ease.
“Fuck.” He moans. He rocks in and out of you, his hands clinging to your hips.
“Harry, please come, fill me up.”
He thrusts quicken and grow sloppy. Your back arches when you feel his warm come sput inside you. He collapses on top of you when he finishes. You feel him pull out and his release drips down your thighs. His weight on you felt amazing, and you didn’t want him to leave. You whimper when he gets off of you.
“M’gonna get a rag to clean yeh up.” He says softly. He returns quickly and crouches behind you to clean you up. “They yeh go.” He throws the rag in the hamper. You stand to face him and your legs feel like jello. “You were amazing, you know that?” He kisses your forehead.
“M’so tired.” You rub your eyes like a child.
“Time for bed then, yeah?” It was only a little after eight.
“You don’t mind going to bed so early?”
“You’re finally home, of course I don’t mind.” He chuckles. “Go do your thing, I’m gonna get settled in.”
You walk into the bathroom and do your routine. You get into the bed and snuggle up to Harry. You take turns all night spooning each other. You both wanted to be held by the other. Eventually you passed out with his head on your chest. It was perfect.
#harry styles#take it slow#harry styles x reader#harry styles y/n#harry styles x y/n#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut fic#harry styles fluff fic#harry styles fic#smut#fluff#sorry about the r word!!!#come hang out in my ask box!#happy friday!
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