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#need to get energy to shower and wash the grossness of the last week off tbh
rosicheeks · 20 days
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how is the sale going?
🙃🙃🙃🙃
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It's a low af spoon day, but I'm not upset or grumpy about it. In fact, it's actually a good thing! This is forcing me to take several days off from doing anything related to sewing. My wrist is sore, fingertips are bruised, my back and neck are lecturing me, blah blah blah.
Why a low spoon day? A little mental stuff that fellow Disabled folks will understand and doesn't need talking about. Chronic pain, my asthma has made breathing difficult due to wildfire smoke fucking with it, sleep deprived and difficulty breathing are making my energy drop down into the red zone real quick, and I got a lot done over the last week.
This morning I had to choose between taking a shower or doing laundry. I opted for a sponge bath, wash my face, pull my hair back, and got dressed. Oh, washing my face replenishes spoons; my skin is combination very dry and impressively oily. I have warm eyelids, which is a fancy way of saying they're extremely oily. Gums up my lashes and burns my eyes, and it's especially bad in the morning. My hair is also extremely oily. I washed it day before last, yesterday it had at least an inch of oil on it, today it's downright gross. Feels like I didn't wash some hair product out.
Before anyone gives me hair care tips about washing is bad, use dry shampoo, and anything else you think is a good idea: DON'T. I've tried all that shit, including six months of "learning and training my scalp and hair," which turned into the famous fungal infection referred to as dandruff. I have psoriasis on my scalp, as well as acne, and not washing it at least every other day results in irritation and inflammation. Dry shampoo gets weird on my scalp due to how oily it is. I even saw a doctor and a hairdresser about this, both told me my scalp is not overreacting to being washed too often. I just have oily hair. Brushes that help spread the oil from root and down the length of my hair, they don't get through all the layers of my hair. It's absurdly thick, which is why I have half my hair shaved off. I tried the boar hair brushes, boar hair brushes made for thick hair, even a slicker brush made for long hair cats. Because I'm typically washing every other day, every fifth washing I use a vinegar rinse, otherwise my scalp is too alkaline and dandruff starts developing again. I know my hair and scalp better than anyone else.
Spoons will be spent on laundry and cooking today, tomorrow I'll clean the bathroom, and day after sweeping and mopping. It takes spoons to make a clean house, but a clean house makes it easier to replenish spoons.
Then I'm making a table runner or two for myself, followed by more shop inventory on my Ko-Fi. I want to add at least half a dozen listings by the end of the year. One thing I really wanna make is a table runner with matching placemats and coasters. It'll be at least $300 when finished, but it's worth the price. I intend to make lots of coaster sets as well as a few mug rugs; there are lots of fabric scraps that will be perfect for these.
Right now, I wanna place ACV, but there's too much sunlight in my living room. The curtains aren't blackout, they just do a really good job of filtering light. It creates an indirect sunlight environment, which all the plants I have absolutely love. They would die if I used darker curtains, and require that I open them to let in sunlight. Please don't offer solutions. This setup prevents me from spending the entire day on my ass playing video games. I do want to read; I'm on books six of WoT, but I don't have any of the books after it. Because I read quickly, and a lot, I'll finish the books in just two or three days, which is one of the reasons why I read in bed by candlelight. Strains my eyes, makes them tired, forces me to stop reading, and I end up taking two to three weeks to finish a book. Purchasing anything right now isn't an option because we're low on money and have bills to pay. Husband's first full paycheck will arrive on Halloween.
If you wanna toss money our way, you can do so on my Ko-Fi by donation or purchase. Or you can click be a monthly supporter, similar to Patreon. Currently I have three and receive a total of $27/month. I'm late on sending them postcards, but making up for it by sending them all mug rugs. Oh, everyone gets a postcard from me each month, and I'll be send them off tomorrow. I do intend to send them all something special in December.
I just noticed how long this post is.
Remember to give yourself a break, ideally at least two days a week and one right after the other. I aim for three because that's a nice number and works out great for me.
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Welcome Home - Bakugou Katsuki
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Katsuki’s back from a mission, hardly through the door and already acting strange. it’d be a lot easier to figure out if he wasn’t so- well, himself.
—/—
Bakugou likes to pretend. Pretend that he’s tough, that he’s mean, that he’s prickly all the way through. And he might be, to others, but you’re not exactly others to him.
He loves you, and for Katsuki, love has always been something that weakens him. He needs it, you think, because he’s plenty strong already. So maybe it’s a good thing he goes so molten soft for you.
You think he’s softest now- when he’s just come back from a mission away, freshly showered and ready for sleep. He’ll creep up behind you, catching your around your middle. Searching fingers find the dip of your waist, settling there as he pulls you back against his chest. Katsuki doesn’t even really greet you, but that’s okay- he’ll place a feather-light kiss under your jaw and it’s always more than enough.
“Food’s almost ready.” You say lightly, leaning back against him. “Should be just a few more minutes, yeah?”
“No.”
“No- what? Aren’t you hungry?”
“No. Tired.”
“Okay.” You nod, turning in his arms. You’ve got your hands against his chest, and Bakugou pulls you forward even more, away from the hot stove behind you. “You should probably eat before you sleep though. Get your strength back, you know?”
“No. Ate earlier, ‘m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” He grumbles, very obviously annoyed. “I’m fuckin’ sure.”
You recoil a bit at his tone- but Katsuki doesn’t let you get very far. He keeps you trapped against his chest, one hand leaving your waist to turn the oven off. Whatever’s up with him clearly has him upset- you can see it in the crease of his eyebrow, the way his nostrils flare like a bull.
His moods are always unpredictable, but this behavior is even more so. Usually he’s pretty tame when he gets back home from a mission, he never really snaps. Not like he is now.
You try to give him some space, but he seems bothered by that too. Bakugou turns you back around, crowding you against the cooling stove. He’s all heavy weight and heat, solid against your shoulders and refusing to move. He drops his forehead into your skin, nuzzling at the junction where your shoulder meets your neck.
“Are you alright?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up to card through his hair. Bakugou melts into you at that, and it only worries you more. “Everything go okay?”
“Mhm.”
He’s noncommittal, voice hardly more than a grumble. You feel his eyes flutter against your skin, and he pulls you even further into him. Your practically draped in this hulking, mass of a man, breathing in the very air that leaves his mouth.
“Really that tired, huh?” You try again, scratching idly at his scalp. “I’ll finish the food, and wrap it up. Don’t worry about it, you can just go to bed.”
“No. Leave it.”
“I’m not just gonna leave it. It’ll get all gross sitting out overnight.”
“Jesus fuck,” He huffs once more, and you don’t have to see it to know he’s rolling his eyes. “I said fuckin’ leave it. So fuckin’ leave it!”
Your eyes widen- because you know he did not just speak to you that way.
Bakugou must regret it too, because then he’s hugging you tighter, ghosting his hands up and down your sides. “Didn’t mean it.” He says. “I’m just tired. Shouldn’t have snapped. Leave the food, I’ll clean it up later.”
You’re still a little annoyed, but you’re long past picking fights over his tone. He was just surly- and you still loved him in spite of it.
“Yeah- okay. It’s fine.” You agree. “You wanna take a nap then?”
He nods against your skin, but doesn’t really move. If anything he gathers you closer, hanging his head over your shoulder.
“Don’t sleep here.” You giggle, dropping a kiss to his hairline. “C’mon- I’ve gotta go clean up a bit first, and then we’ll go get in bed.”
“‘m already clean.”
“I didn’t say you. I said me. I’ve gotta get clean.”
He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, dragging his nose against the soft skin. “Smell fine to me.” He says.
“I didn’t- did you just sniff me?”
He just shrugs, and you can feel it against your back.
“Jesus, what’d they do to you, huh? Tired you out so much that you became a different person?” You laugh, turning in his arms. Bakugou lets you, settling his hands on the small of your back. “You’re never this soft.”
He seizes, squeezing your sides. “Shut up.”
“I legally can’t.”
“You can, and you fuckin’ should.”
“Hey- play nice or you’re going to bed by yourself.”
Bakugou doesn’t seem all too pleased by your joke, his strong arms tightening around you. When you look up at him, he’s glowering, jaw set and eyes squinted.
“Calm down, grumpy.” You smile fondly, patting his chest. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Well- not right now, anyways. I missed you too much.”
You hardly see his face go red before he’s hunching over, hiding in your neck. You can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but you don’t comment. Bakugou already knows he’s done for just as much as you do.
“Wanted to come home.” He says. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Shoulda picked a different job then. Hero.”
He scoffs. “World would go to shit without me.”
“Yeah- it would, wouldn’t it?”
You feel his smile against your neck. Another second passes and then you’re gently pushing him off, brushing past to start towards the bedroom. Katsuki follows you, like a shadow, the entire way- hardly even a breath of space between you. Even when you start into the bathroom, grabbing at your face wash, he’s there too. He leans against the counter, holding a towel.
“So helpful.” You tease, turning on the sink. “Maybe you should go away more often.”
“‘m always helpful.”
“Mhm. Sure you are.”
You start your routine, working through the steps, and he just watches. Usually he’s in bed at this point, but for whatever reason, tonight Katsuki is choosing to stay instead. He stays and he stands- rooted in place just a few inches away, red eyes watching you intently through the mirror. Whatever had him so bent out of shape earlier apparently still has him arrested. If you didn’t know any better you’d even say that he was being clingy.
You motion for the towel, and Bakugou just does this funny little half-smirk. He pushes off the counter, nearing, standing just behind you and- he drops the towel. Over your head.
“Jerk.” You fuss, swiping the towel away. ���I knew you were suspicious! Standing there- being suspiciously calm!”
He smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Calm down, you baby. ‘s a towel. Not like I dropped a fuckin’ building on your head.”
“No, but you would.”
Bakugou shrugs.
“No! No! Get out. Get out of my bathroom right now.” You playfully scold, glaring at him through the mirror. He’s standing behind you now, just inches away. “And to think I told you I missed you. I take it back. I totally take it back.”
“No you don’t.”
“I do!”
“You don’t.” He says confidently, arms wrapping around your waist. “Already said it, dumbass. Can’t take that shit back now.”
“You are an ass, you know that?”
“Mhm.”
“No- you’re not supposed to agree!” You laugh, lightly elbowing him away. “Now, c’mon, let me go. Gotta brush my teeth still.”
“So brush them. Dunno why the hell you’re makin’ it my fuckin’ problem.”
“I’m making it your problem because you’re the one hanging off me like an overgrown toddler.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, stepping back for a moment. He reaches for your toothpaste and toothbrush, one hand leaving your hip while the other stays.
“Here.” He says. “Everthing you need. Stop fuckin’ complaining and brush your damn teeth already.”
You catch his gaze in the mirror, but Bakugou really doesn’t seem to be relenting. He stands his ground, hardly an inch of space between his chest and your back. He looked ridiculous- you wondered just what the hell was wrong with him that night.
“Fine- have it your way.” You relent, turning on the sink once more. “But only because it’s been two weeks since you were last here to pull this shit. Not happening again, got it?”
He just smirks. Bakugou know’s he’s won. He always does.
You brush your teeth, and he hardly moves. He stands with his arms wrapped around you, holds your hair back when you lean down to rinse around your mouth. It’s almost nice- until he’s flicking water at you.
“Are you- are you being serious right now?” You glare at him. “I thought you were tired.”
“Yeah. I am.“ He starts, a slow smirk spreading across his face. It’s a look you knows means trouble of the exceedingly childish variety. “Tired of your shit.” 
“Bakugou Katsuki! What the hell has gotten into you?” 
He rolls his eyes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He tightens his arms around your waist, averting his eyes. “Haven’t been around.” Bakugou says. “Had to save all this energy up. Couldn’t resist- ‘s not my fault.” 
“Is that- are you trying to tell me that you missed me?” 
“Is that what I fuckin’ said?”
“Well, no, not in those exact words. But don’t worry, I get what you mean. And it’s a little cute.” Then you spin in his arms, leaning back against the counter. You bring a hand up, flicking his forehead before he can dodge. “But try that water shit with me again, and I promise you’ll leave this bathroom drenched.” 
“You makin’ threats now? Hah?”
 “Absolutely. Think I got a little bolder while you were gone. Shouldn’t have left me alone for so long!”
Your joke doesn’t seem to land- at least not the way you want it to. His eyes squint, just a bit, just minutely, but you see it. Then he’s shaking his head, dropping his hands to the counter to cage you in against him.
“Didn’t- I wouldn’t-” He starts, before swearing under his breath. Bakugou takes a deep breath. “I don’t like bein’ gone all the time. Wouldn’t if I didn’t fuckin’ have to. If there was another way I’d-”
“I know. I know you would.” You place a hand on his chest, and he just looks thankful that you’ve been merciful. That you don’t make him say the words. “I was just joking. I’d never hold that against you, you know. It doesn’t matter to me that you have to go, just that you always come back to me.”
He just breathes deep, trying his best to meet your eyes. Bakugou never really was good at eye contact, always trying his best to hide from what he feels. You try your best not to let him though- you don’t want to leave him with any doubt about where he stood with you. Where he’d always stand with you, if you had anything to say about it.
Katsuki pats your head then, ruffling your hair while he bites his knuckle. He’s embarrassed, awfully so, but he’s trying his best yet again. “Don’t- you can’t just say shit like that.” He grumbles, but then he’s turning around, pulling you gently by the arm towards the bedroom. “I’ll always come back. You really think I’d let any of those idiot villains kill me?” 
“Nope. Not a chance. You’d strike ‘em dead.”
“That’s my girl.” He smirks. “Course I would.” 
He waits patiently while you change into comfier shorts, throwing one of his own sweatshirts toward you when he sees you start for the closet. You think it’s always a little cute- the way Bakugou, no matter how much he denies it, definitely has a thing for you wearing his clothes. Not that you’re complaining much, though.
When you finally slip under the covers, he is not far behind. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but he makes it very clear- by choosing to lie directly on top of you.
“You know,” You laugh a little, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. “It’s almost like you actually did miss me. You’re being awfully clingy tonight.”
“No- that’s stupid. Stop being dumb- that’s- don’t say that shit to me again.” He mumbles, digging his face further into your collarbone. You can feel his lips against your skin- the way his cheeks are puffed into a pout. “That word is fuckin’ banned.”
“You can’t ban a word.”
“The hell do you think you’re talkin’ to? ‘Course I can.”
“You really cant.”
“I can. Shut up.”
You only laugh a little bit, trying not to squeak when he hugs you tighter. Your sides have always been ticklish, and Bakugou knows this- as it is now, he’s tapping his fingers just under your ribs. Like he’s daring you to keep defying him. Knowing him, he probably is.
Bakugou grunts, grabbing at one of your hands. He catches you around your wrist, dropping your hand into his hair. You both know what he wants but you can’t help yourself from teasing him again.
“See?” You laugh, but start dragging your nails against his scalp anyways. “You’re just proving my point. You’re clingy.”
“I’m not.”
“So, what, you just wouldn’t care if I got up right now?”
“Nope. Get up. Leave. Now.”
You shake your head, but you decide to play anyways. You always do when it comes to him.
He’s got you trapped under him, a solid weight against your torso. Still, you try your best to wriggle out, pressing against his chest with all your might. But, solid muscle doesn’t exactly budge easy and you’re going nowhere fast.
“Let me up!” You laugh, pressing against his chest once more. “I thought you said you didn’t care!”
“I don’t. Idiot.”
“Mhm, then why are you keeping me trapped here, huh?”
“‘m not.” He smirks, hands falling back to your waist. Bakugou presses his thumbs into your sides, smirking when you start to squirm. “Not my fault you’re too weak to get up.”
“You’re a dick, you know that?”
“Nah- you love me.”
You can’t help the incredulous laugh that spills from you then. He’s right- no matter how much your pride would like to say otherwise.
Bakugou seems to know he’s right too. You can see it in the curve of his smile, the way his eyes are two shades lighter than they normally are. Nobody would ever believe you, but when he’s like this, with you, you swear Bakugou could outshine the sun.
“Say it, dumbass.”
“Say what?” You laugh, scrunching your nose up playfully. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. Stop playin’ dumb.”
“I’m not playing anything. I’ll say it if you say it.”
“The hell am I supposed to say?”
You just laugh, brushing the blonde hair back from his eyes. Bakugou blushes at the gesture, but he doesn’t push your hand away. If anything he pressed forward. Until you get the message once more, and start dragging your fingers through his hair.
“I’m not gonna say it. Dumbass.”
“I thought you didn’t know what you were supposed to say?”
“Shut the hell up.” He flusters, voice pinched and embarrassed. “I’m not- ‘m not sayin’ it, alright?”
“I know, I know, god forbid you admit that you actually missed me, right?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re not- don’t agree!” You laugh, lightly tugging on his hair in warning. “This is the part where you’re supposed to say how lonely you were, and how much you missed me, and how I’m such an important and vital part of your life.”
You finish with a dreamy sigh, playing up the theatrics for nothing other than you’re own enjoyment. All your met with is silence. Pure silence and then-
“Yeah fuckin’ right- ‘m not saying that stupid shit.”
You tug on his hair. For real this time. Not much, but just enough to get him to jump a little. Just enough so you could giggle, shushing him with your hands rubbing down his back.
“Fine, well I guess if you won’t say that either,” You start, smiling coyly. “Then I guess I definitely won’t tell you that I love you. Because you wouldn’t care- obviously.”
“No- that’s- that’s different. You can say that. I’m allowing you to. Why do you always gotta make everything so damn difficult, hah?”
“Because- nice boys get to hear nice things, and you’ve never been anything short of the devil incarnate-“
“Hey!”
“What, gonna tell me I’m wrong?” You smile fondly down at him. “Besides, I thought you were tired. No exhausted person I’ve ever known argues this much.”
“I’m tired- not falling asleep. There’s a fuckin’ difference. I just wanted to lay down.” 
His face is red, but you hardly even get to see if before Katsuki is hiding once more. Still, even if the execution was lacking, the sentiment still makes you love him all over again. 
“And you are wrong.” He starts again. “‘m nice to you all the time!”
“Yeah. When I force you to be.”
“That’s- you’re not right.”
“I am. Say one nice thing to me. Right now, c’mon. Prove me wrong.”
You’re egging his on now, challenge dripping from your voice. It’s the sort of badgering that always works with him, and it seems to be working now too. He sits up, hovering above you and braced on his elbows. 
“Fine. I-” He struggles for a moment, face going a violent shade of red. “I-I missed you. Happy?”
Truthfully, it does make you happy. Happier than anything else, but you didn’t plan to let him off easy. Not this time. With Katsuki, there’s only so much mercy to go around.
“Oh- you missed me?” You tease. “The Bakugou Katsuki missed little old me? Fascinatin-“
He squeezes your sides, driving his thumbs into your hips until you’re squirming and giggling. “Shut up. Dumbass! This is why ‘m never nice to you!”
You want to respond, but his hands are at your sides, poking and prodding and tickling you into submission. It’s the worst kind of torture, one that feels entirely brutal, but then you look up at him. He doesn’t smile often- not as much as you always wished he would anyways, but he is now. Bakugou is grinning like mad, all sharp teeth and loud laughter. Eventually he stops, letting you catch you breath, but he’s still smiling. You’d love to say something, but you don’t. You know he’d wipe the smile right off his face if you did.
“Fine fine, I’ll- I’ll be quiet now. You win.” You say, a hand on your chest as you catch your breath. “I do have just a few last things to say though.”
“Jesus christ. What now?”
“I love you.” You smile. “And I missed you. And I’m so glad you’re home.”
He smiles changes then, from wide and unrelenting to something tiny and tight lipped. You think you’ve made a mistake, but then his eyes crinkle up. His eyes crinkle up and his cheeks pink, and you think he’s so beautiful then that it hurts. 
Bakugou Katsuki is rough and tumble, but when you melt him down, he really is softer than anything.
--/---
n e wayz,,, soft katsu n shit-head katsu are best katsu,,, i said what i said
alsoooooo lmaooo i took a break but im back now!!! 
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patchworkstudies · 4 years
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advice from a friend in recovery
[part II: the depression edition]
since my last advice post is somehow still getting traction despite having been posted almost three years ago, i thought it might be a decent idea to expand it into a series! when i wrote that post i was dealing with the aftermath of traumatic events, experiencing a developing post traumatic stress disorder for the first time. what i needed most out of recovery was a way to build moments of solace and joy into my daily life, so that’s what that post focused on.
three years down the line, my recovery goals have changed quite a bit. my focus right now is on learning strategies to cope with major depressive episodes and figuring out how to pick up the pieces after days or weeks of barely being able to get out of bed. here’s what i’ve got down so far!
does waking up (and staying awake) in the morning feel like an insurmountable hurdle right now? same. it’s rough.
make your alarm impossible to ignore. turn the volume all the way up and set it to a song you can’t physically resist screaming along to (or a song you hate so much you would do literally anything to turn it off. either works). bonus points if you know you’ll have to sprint to turn it off before it wakes up others in your household.
you will feel worse if you turn the alarm off and crawl back into bed. trust me. you will. if you hit snooze, you’ll feel groggy and annoyed in ten minutes. if you turn the alarm off entirely, you’ll wake up in five hours and still feel like shit anyways.
make it as hard as possible for yourself to get back into bed. keep your alarm across the room from your bed, behind an obstacle course. the more things you’ve had to do before you can turn the alarm off, the easier it will be to just get up instead of going back to sleep.
if you can, use an app like this that sets your alarm to only turn off when you scan a certain barcode. set the barcode to something you keep on the complete opposite side of your house.
better yet, set the barcode to your tube of toothpaste. by the time you’re able to turn your alarm off, you’ll already be in the bathroom holding the toothpaste. while you’re still on half-asleep autopilot, it’s much easier to say “fuck it” and brush your teeth before you can think twice.
having a hard time with personal hygiene, but your own body odor is making you feel a thousand times more depressed? yeah, i’ve been there.
get yourself some really strong deodorizing soap. drag yourself into the shower, spend ten seconds lathering the parts of your body that smell the worst (armpits, groin, anywhere you sweat a lot). rinse and repeat twice. the smell will be completely gone with minimal effort on your part.
don’t have the energy to shampoo, but greasy hair also making you feel gross? just use the bar soap on your hair too. yes it will dry your hair out, but it’s effective and you can always condition later if you feel better.
don’t have the energy to get into the shower or turn it on? if your pits are sweaty, just take the bar of soap and rub it in the sweat until it lathers. wipe off the soap residue. it will smell a thousand times better. (if your pits are not sweaty enough for this, a splash of water works great too).
your bedroom is such a mess that you can’t even imagine how you could start cleaning it? i know the feeling.
pick a corner. designate this your “clean corner.” literally shove the clutter away from this corner until you have a space big enough to sit down in. cleaning is less overwhelming when you have somewhere to retreat to.
personally, the bulk of my mess is usually dirty laundry that i have been putting off washing. forget about washing it right now. if you have a separate closet, pick up every piece of laundry on the floor and throw it into that closet to be dealt with later. close the door.
if you don’t have a separate closet, stuffing it into trash bags is another way to collect your dirty laundry and make it less visually overwhelming. trash bags can be stacked better than individual items of clothing, leaving you with more empty floor space.
the next easiest thing to get rid of is trash. if there’s so much trash around that picking up all of it at once is daunting, start with food waste. it is easy to identify and probably making your room smell.
out of sight, out of mind. the more you can shove the clutter into boxes, bags, closets, etc. to deal with later, the better. you can sort through it, pile by pile, when you have the time.
you don’t have to be perfect all of the time. or any of the time, even!
depression making it impossible for you to do the dishes? if you’re able to stock up on paper plates, cups, and disposable utensils, just use those instead. i promise, you are not singlehandedly destroying the environment by doing so.
out of clean clothing, but can’t muster up the energy to do laundry? spray your clothes with febreeze. wait a minute and then shake them out as hard as you can to air them out. congrats, you now have a single outfit that smells more like car air fresheners than body odor. (please do not do this with underwear. if you need to reuse underwear, turn it inside out).
cheat on your assignments. for fuck’s sake, if it won’t get you in trouble, just do it. academia is a sham, you have more important things to worry about, and you can always learn the information later when you’re not working against a deadline.
know that sometimes it is all you can do to stay alive. every breath you take is an accomplishment. on the days when you can’t even stand up, rolling over to the cooler side of the pillow is an accomplishment.
you are quite literally winning at life, by sheer virtue of not being dead right now. congratulations!
i’m proud of you.
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poisonedapples · 3 years
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Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Four
Self Care Day
Chapter Summary: Roman finally relaxes, and Virgil attempts to help.
First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist
Warnings: Anxiety, panic, mentions of past trauma and abuse, very minor self-injury (rubbing a little too hard with a loofah), food, and swearing
Chapter Word Count: 6,174
Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus
Notes: Thank you to Cornybird on Ao3 for betareading the chapter! You’re amazing and I appreciate you <3
It was one in the morning, and Roman was next to his bed pacing in circles so fast he was getting dizzy. It was officially the weekend and he was supposed to relax, but instead his mind was rushing a mile a minute and tormenting him. He was restless and exhausted, anxious and on the brink of tears, and Roman didn’t know what to do. He just wanted it to stop.
His head was spinning from all the pacing, so Roman sat on the foot of his bed and aggressively bounced his leg instead. He felt out of control, like danger was all around him and there was nothing to stop it. He felt like his heart was in his throat, sweat dripping down his face and making it hard to breathe. Roman gripped at his hair with both hands, physically recoiling at the feeling of grease and grime and-
…Oh. Wait. It made sense now. Roman hadn’t showered in a week.
He let out a deep breath, calming a little after finding a solution to his problem. He should’ve guessed, feeling dirty always made him anxious and stressed. He hadn’t had the energy to shower, but he was at a point where he had to force himself. If he didn’t, Roman would collapse from the stress.
He picked up his phone to look at the time again. 1:28 am, possibly the worst timing to sneak into the bathroom and try to shower without waking the house up. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He was exhausted and his brain was rushing through hundreds of thoughts. He needed some hot water to calm down.
Roman took the security bar off his door and slowly stepped into the hallway. He didn’t bother grabbing clothes to change into; his pajamas were clean and he could slip back into them after drying himself off well enough. He carefully turned the knob of the bathroom and snuck himself in.
It was very quiet in the house so early in the morning. Usually when Roman was in the bathroom, he could hear the TV downstairs or people talking outside the door, but now the only noise was the sound of his breathing and a slight buzz from the bathroom light. Roman stepped on the toilet to check for cameras inside of a vent high on the wall. Frustratingly, he found nothing. Patton’s camera-hiding ability was getting very annoying.
Regardless, he checked in the drawers and around the walls as well, flipping over shampoo bottles and toothbrushes just in case. He didn’t find anything, and Roman wanted to yell. Instead, he settled for clenching his fists and trying to move on with his task.
Fortunately, the shower had an opaque curtain that could make it harder for a camera to see, and Roman felt satisfied with that. Once he figured out how the shower worked and memorized where things were placed, Roman could also go back to showering in the dark again. He’d manage.
Roman wrapped himself in a towel in order to take his clothes off, folding them neatly on the toilet so that any water falling on the ground wouldn’t drench them. He skipped turning on the vent fan so he’d be quieter, stepping into the shower and tossing the towel outside the curtain on the floor for later. His legs clamped together subconsciously as he turned on the water.
Roman felt his shoulders relax a little when the hot water hit him. It helped the grease on his face and hair feel less gross, but the heat was also relaxing. He hugged himself and let the water fall down his face for a while.
…This is weird, Roman eventually thought, interrupting the rare silence in his head. He hadn’t felt this relaxed since he left the hospital. He thought after the trial that he’d be living on cloud nine for the rest of eternity, but the opposite was happening. His past and current situation was hitting him like a brick, filling him with constant anxiety and paranoia over the smallest things. It was getting unbearable.
Roman grabbed a shampoo bottle and squirted some out, slowly rubbing it into his hair and sighing. He was probably so on edge because he still hadn’t figured out Patton’s patterns. With his dad, Roman had lived with him for so long, he could guess his feelings by just a ten second conversation. He had detailed methods to work around him, how to sneak out of the house without getting noticed by cameras and how to delay the inevitable. But Roman didn’t know what Patton was thinking, what he even really wanted. Whatever it was certainly couldn’t be good, but at least if Roman knew, he could work around it. But here, there was no such luxury.
He stood back under the shower stream and felt the grease get cleaned out of his hair. Roman needed to change that uncertain feeling as soon as possible. He probably wasn’t going to sleep tonight anyway, so he could use this time to sneak around the house and at least find a hiding spot. At Roman’s old house, he had a little nook in a broken cabinet downstairs that his dad never opened, and he never found out where Roman’s hiding spot was. Patton didn’t have a basement, but maybe he had some place Roman could fit where Patton couldn't find him. It’d help him feel better if he found somewhere.
Roman ran his hands through his hair to check for extra suds and considered his hair clean now. Thank the heavens, there was nothing worse than feeling gross and exposed. Roman grabbed a bottle of body wash to clean the rest of himself next.
This was the tricky part. Roman had a habit of scrubbing too hard, and his aunt had a very long talk with him last time he came out of the shower redder than a lobster. He didn’t want Patton asking questions, so he had to watch himself. He couldn’t afford a spiral.
He poured some of the body wash on a loofah and tried to gently scrub. He didn’t realize how gross he felt, no wonder he was having panic attacks left and right. He was covered in grease and sweat and dirt that wasn’t even being rinsed, and Roman was getting more grossed out at the thought the more he realized. He really needed to start showering daily again, his hair was so thick and oily and teenager sweat stink smelled so bad, he couldn’t afford to miss a day-
…Shit, fuck, hang on, Roman thought, pulling away the loofah from his leg to observe the damage. He’d only realized what he was doing when he started to feel a stinging burn, looking away to see pink skin. Thankfully, he’d caught himself early enough where he’d be alright. He scooped some suds from the loofah onto his hand and gently rubbed the rest of the area so it wouldn’t be irritated, careful to focus on his movements from then on so it wouldn’t happen again.
He eventually finished without any further issues, rinsing off his body and turning off the shower. Roman dried most of himself as he stood in the shower, grabbing the towel off the floor and aggressively drying his hair with it. Usually he’d dry his hair with a hair dryer, but that would be too loud, so he settled with having a fluffy dog on his head for the night. Once he was dry enough, he grabbed his boxers and shirt to put on in the shower before stepping out to put back on his sweatpants. Despite the steam in the bathroom making it hard to breathe, Roman felt much better than before.
He turned off the light before he opened the bathroom door, stepping into the dark hallway wondering where to go. He still wasn’t tired, so he might as well look for that hiding spot. But where could he hide?
He slowly made his way downstairs, wincing every time a floorboard under him squeaked. The TV stand was an awful place since it was full of wires and CD cases, and behind the couch was far too obvious for a hiding spot. The entire kitchen was off limits since Patton spent most of his time there, he’d find Roman easily if he was hiding nearby. There was a small bathroom down here that barely fit a toilet and a sink, so maybe that could work?
Roman opened the bathroom door and looked inside, immediately becoming discouraged. There was no cabinet under the sink and everything was visible the moment you walked in, so that was a bust. He closed the door and looked around again.
The dining room off to the side of the kitchen was mostly bare, and hiding under the table wouldn’t work. Roman made a circle back to the stairs and looked around with his hands on his hips.
Suddenly, his eye was caught by a glass case display next to the stairs and it dawned on him. Underneath the stairs was a slight opening, but still too big to be a good hiding spot. But the display was pointed at a diagonal from the stairs, leaving a triangle opening that you couldn’t see by looking underneath the steps. Roman crawled under the stairs to see if he could fit in the hole.
It was a little cramped, but the cramped spots were always the best places. The only downside was that Roman was still visible from looking under the stairs, leaving his pants and shoes visible to anyone who could be looking for him. However, if he could get a box and paint it the same black color as the back of the glass display, he could rest on top of it and no one could see him. It could work!
Roman crawled out from the other end of the stairs and smiled. If he was quick and sneaky, he could hide under here and stay hidden for hours. Now he just needed a box he could paint black.
Roman opened the downstairs closet and looked inside, moving jackets and shoes around to look for what he needed. Nothing.
He walked into the kitchen to open the garage door and look inside, searching for any online shopping boxes Patton was planning to toss out. Nothing. Maybe he should sneak outside and check the recycling bin really quick-
“Roman?”
Roman froze like a deer in headlights at the sound of that voice. It was Patton, he didn’t need to look behind him to know that. To Patton, it must look like Roman was trying to sneak out through the garage door. He felt his breath stop.
“Roman, come back here. Right now.” Yeah, that was definitely what Patton thought was going on. His voice wasn’t angry, but it was firm and demanding, the voice a parent puts on when they refuse to be pushed around by you. If Roman didn’t think fast, he’d be fucked.
I can’t tell the truth, Roman thought. He can’t know I’m looking for hiding spots. But what can I do? Come on, Roman, make an idea! It’s the one thing you do so often!
…But there was that idea. An idea he used very rarely, but had yet to fail him.
Okay then, he decided, it’s go time. Lights, camera, action.
“Roman, I’m not joking. Come here.”
Roman deliberately ignored him, instead slowly closing the garage door and fumbling with the knob like he was stuck in a task. He kept his movements delayed and repetitive, just like people always told him he acted like in the stories.
Patton hesitated, like Roman’s reaction had confused him. “Roman, now.”
“Wait, wait, wait a minute.” Roman mumbled. “It’s gotta break.”
“…What’s gotta break?”
Roman opened the door and stood there looking out at the garage. He didn’t respond to Patton’s question, instead he stood there without moving. He heard Patton step closer.
“Roman?” He asked, his voice becoming softer as he realized what was happening. “Are you awake?”
“That’s a lot off.”
Roman could see Patton smile in the corner of his eye. His plan was a success. “I think you need to go to bed, kiddo. You can break things tomorrow.”
Patton took a hold of Roman’s hand, a grip that was so gentle it was less of a grip and more of Patton holding the tips of his fingers. Roman tensed his toes to prevent himself from jerking away from the touch, letting Patton lead him back up the stairs and to his bedroom. Patton went slowly so as to not lose Roman behind him, but he eventually led Roman back to bed while Roman kept up his sleepwalking ruse. It was a trick that always worked on his dad late at night, and it was good to know it worked on Patton too.
Patton brought Roman’s hand to touch the sheets on his own bed, and Roman reacted by slowly crawling back into bed and relaxing. He felt Patton cover him up with the blanket and tried not to squirm away from him.
“Goodnight, sleepy prince.” Patton whispered. Roman heard his footsteps head toward the door before his door slowly clicked closed, leaving Roman back in his room.
Roman waited until the coast was completely clear to jump back up and put the security bar under his door knob again. He was officially stuck in his room for the rest of the night, but at least he felt more in control now. Maybe he could try to sleep now.
Roman shoved his face in his pillow and tried to drift off, breathing deeply to keep his mind from spiraling again.
Yeah. After all he’d been through recently, tomorrow had to be a relaxation day.
***
“So…” Patton said to Roman with a smirk, handing him a plate with pancakes and blueberries during breakfast that morning. “Roman, I didn’t know you were a sleepwalker.”
Virgil and Logan both looked at Roman for his response. Roman feigned surprise. “…How’d you find out?”
“Last night I caught you walking around the house. I also heard the shower running for a while. Strange thing to wake up to!”
Crap, Roman thought, gonna have to remember that for next time. “Well, yes, I sleepwalk when I’m stressed. So, quite often.”
Patton’s smile seemed to drop a little. “Do you always try to sneak out of the house?”
“Sometimes. It’s not very often, though.” That’s what Roman always told adults. In reality, Roman had never heard a sleepwalking story of him trying to sneak out other than the times he was faking it after being caught. He didn’t even think Sleepwalking Roman had figured out how to take the security bar off the door yet, let alone try to walk into the street. But adults didn't need to know that. It was more convenient that way.
“Well, I might have to see about getting some sleepwalk-Roman-proof locks on the door, then. I don’t want you walking into oncoming traffic or something.”
Roman shrugged, taking a bite of his pancakes. “You can try. Can’t guarantee it’ll work, though.”
“Why do you sleepwalk?” Logan asked, leaning in closer to where Roman was sitting. “Do you know?”
“It ran in my family.”
Logan’s eyes lit up. “That’s quite interesting. I don’t know much about the science behind sleepwalking, but perhaps it’d be an interesting topic to research on. Brain functions during sleep can be quite bizarre.”
“You have fun with that, John Darling.” Roman finished the last bite from his pancake and stood up. “However, I have a nice date with the living room TV, so I’ll be busy.”
“…You consider that being busy?” Logan teased.
“Yes. Disney marathons are self care, and you can’t complain because I haven’t had the TV at all since I got here.”
“You do gotta share sometimes, Logan.” Patton mentioned.
Logan huffed. “Fine.”
Virgil stood up from the table to put his dishes away, placing his cup on top of his plate and balancing it. “He’s a little TV hog, some of us also wanna play games, dude.”
“All you have to do is ask!”
“And face confrontation? No way am I- fuck!”
Everyone jumped at Virgil’s sudden loud swear followed by the loud bang of a cup hitting the floor. Virgil’s balancing act showed to be a failure, with orange juice spilt all over the kitchen floor. Virgil stood deathly still and stared at the mess in horror, practically shaking with his knuckles turning white as he clenched at the plate in his hand. Roman cringed, subconsciously scooting as far back in his chair as possible and tensing. All the kids were silent. Virgil looked ready to cry.
“Oops!” Patton’s cheery voice is what broke the tense silence, crouching down at the mess and picking up the dropped cup. He looked it over. “Well, thankfully this cup isn’t glass, so it’s not broken! I’ll put it in the dishwasher and it’ll be okay, an easy fix. Could you get some paper towels and clean this up, kiddo?”
Virgil still seemed shaken, digging his nails into the metal plate and nodding. He slowly moved to grab the paper towels on the counter and drop them to the floor to dry the mess. Logan didn’t seem bothered anymore, but Roman felt himself prepare to book it upstairs in case things went south. But Patton didn’t scream or throw a fit, just put the cup in the dishwasher and stepped back to let Virgil do his thing.
Once Virgil wiped up the mess, he set his plate in the dishwasher and ran upstairs. Roman and Logan both watched helplessly, but Patton just smiled to himself. “I’ll check on him in a second. I think he just needs space now.”
Roman tensed at the idea of Patton checking on Virgil on his own, still not certain what he did to them behind closed doors. Roman put his own dishes away and ran upstairs to his bedroom. He closed the door and locked it like usual, but he didn’t put the security bar under the knob. Instead, he sat against the door and listened for the sound of Patton’s footsteps.
Eventually, the footsteps did come. Roman heard him knock on Virgil’s door and announce himself, asking if he could come in before the door opened. He heard the door softly close again, and that’s when Roman took his chance. He snuck out of his room and crept his way to the door to listen to what was going on. If Virgil was in pain, he could at least hear it.
“-Mad?” Virgil asked, his voice sounding higher and shaky. Roman clenched his fist in preparation.
“Of course not, kiddo,” He heard Patton say, “I’d never be mad at you. It was just a little cup, and everything’s okay.”
“…Sorry I swore, too.”
Patton laughed. “It’s okay. Sometimes it slips out, just don’t make it a habit.” There was a pause for a long moment. Roman felt something ride in his throat when he heard the bed creak a little. “Can I have a hug?”
Roman didn’t hear a verbal response, but Patton didn’t get angry afterwards, so he assumed that Virgil agreed. The bed creaked a little more, but it was silent. Way too silent, and that creaking was making Roman’s skin crawl. He didn’t trust it. He didn’t trust it at all.
Despite his better judgment, Roman swung the door open to catch him. He was breathing heavily and staring daggers, ready to throw a man twice his age across the room, but Roman froze when he processed the reality. Instead of whatever Roman was expecting to find, Patton had Virgil wrapped up in a tight hug as Virgil looked spooked from the sudden intrusion. Roman just stared, wishing more than anything now that he could reverse time. Oops, too soon.
“…Kiddo,” Patton eventually said in a confused tone, “You gotta knock before you enter.”
“…Yeah.” This didn’t make any sense. His dad had never gone this long being nice, so how hadn’t he caught Patton yet? What was he doing differently that made Roman not notice?
Patton rubbed Virgil’s back to help him ease up again. “How about you close the door and give us some privacy, then?”
“…No.” It was a trap. Roman was convinced it was a trap, and he refused to fall for it. He wouldn’t leave Virgil alone with him.
Patton seemed confused. “Why no?”
Roman was shaking. “Because.”
“Roman, I can only help if you tell me why you don’t wanna leave.” Patton’s face was still soft, rubbing Virgil’s back and letting him hide in the crook of Patton’s neck. If he was angry, he wasn’t showing it. “Can you tell me more than because?”
“Because.” Roman kept his voice sharp, remembering Patton’s ‘no yelling’ rule and trying not to push his boundaries more. But there was no way he was telling Patton his plans if he still hadn’t picked up on it.
Instead of exploding at Roman for being a brat, Patton seemed to focus intently and consider his options. Eventually, his eyes widened, and he smiled softly again at Roman. “What if you gave Virgil and I some space, but kept the door open? Would that be easier?”
Roman’s chest felt strange. Heavy, but like electricity was running through him around his heart. “Why do you want space so bad?”
“Because Virgil deserves privacy when he wants it, just like everybody does. Right?”
Roman looked at Virgil, who was peeking out from his hiding spot in Patton’s neck. He looked tired, but that wasn’t the only thing Roman noticed. He looked… Annoyed. Staring right at Roman with a death glare saying do you mind?, and Roman’s heart sank. Fuck.
Without saying a word, Roman ran off with the door still open and locked himself in the bathroom. He sat on the floor and put his head in his hands, still listening carefully for any concerning noises that might come from Virgil’s room, but he knew it was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.
What the hell was wrong with him recently? He told himself last night he was going to spend today relaxing, instead he was freaking out and speeding up the process until Patton realized Roman knew what he was doing. Maybe that’s why Virgil seemed mad at him. He’s being an idiot and speeding up the inevitable for everyone, taking away the points of ignorant bliss between the horror. Roman should understand that. He was also guilty of wanting to pretend his dad loved him, and he was being a prick. He was going to get everyone in trouble if he kept this up.
Roman went limp on the floor, leaning his head against the door and sighing. He needed to leave them alone for a second and stop freaking out over everything. It seemed like Patton was in a good mood since Roman came along, it’d be bad news to ruin that. He wasn’t going to be the reason Virgil got hurt.
Roman shakily stood up off the bathroom floor and left, making his way downstairs to the TV. Logan still hadn’t turned it on, so he took this as his chance to claim it. He sat on the couch with his knees tucked close and pulled up a streaming service to look for some Disney movies, his eyes lighting up when he found one of his favorites as he switched the language to French and hit play.
He used to watch Beauty and the Beast all the time as a kid. It took place in France, so his mom would always say the movie should be played in French too, and Roman agreed. Now the English version sounded too weird for him to enjoy it the same.
Roman curled into himself as the intro played, the familiar prologue story of the beast’s curse that Roman could recite from memory by now. He slowly moved to rest his head on the couch’s armrest with his arms still wrapped around his own legs, keeping him tightly curled up. Maybe later he could make himself some tea, too.
Roman got through a good portion of the movie without interruptions, up to the point where Belle first came into the castle. Then, Virgil suddenly stood in front of the TV with his arms crossed.
Roman grabbed the remote to pause the movie, taking a moment to respond as his brain tried to remember English again. “What?”
“First off, why are you watching Disney in French?”
“I speak French, next question.”
Virgil rolled his eyes. “Come with me.”
Roman sat up and raised an eyebrow at Virgil. Virgil didn’t respond, just made his way up the stairs and expected Roman to follow. His curiosity got the better of him, so Roman did what he was told.
When he made his way up the stairs, Virgil was waiting in the doorframe of his bedroom. He motioned for Roman to follow him inside, so Roman did.
When Roman walked inside, Virgil moved to close the door behind them. “Don’t,” Roman warned.
Virgil gave him a look. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t close it. At least, not all the way.”
Virgil didn’t question further, just kept the door cracked open and wandered over to sit on his bed. Roman didn’t follow, just waited for Virgil to tell him what was happening.
“I wanted to talk to you.” Virgil said.
“I gathered.”
“Sleepwalker, huh?” Virgil teased. “That’s a load of shit.”
“I am a sleepwalker. It happens sometimes!”
“I was downstairs the same time you were, dude. You definitely weren’t fucking sleepwalking until Patton caught you.” Virgil smirked as Roman’s face dropped. “I’m impressed by the acting though, not gonna lie.”
Roman tried to think of a convincing lie, but he sighed and gave up, crossing his arms as he looked at the floor. “…Alright, it was an act. But I do sleepwalk. I just…wasn’t sleepwalking at that exact moment. But regardless, what were you doing awake? And why didn’t I see you?”
Virgil shrugged. “I’m a master at hiding. Every time you came around the corner, I just moved. I haven’t been caught by Patton in a long ass time.”
“Did you call me here just to boast then?”
“Nope.” Virgil popped the p, then smirked. “I called you here to teach you how to do the same.”
Roman seemed taken aback. “…Why?”
“You’re struggling a lot, I figured I might be able to put you out of your misery.”
“Wow, how kind.” Roman deadpanned. “I don’t need your help, for the record. I know I haven’t been in the system long, but this isn’t my first rodeo.”
Virgil sighed. “Look, I’m not good with emotional shit, we’ve been over this. But when Logan first came around, I had a lot of chances to help him out and I just didn’t, and it was a dick move that I regret now. I want to do different with you, so don’t think too deep into it and just accept it. Deal?”
“Um…alright?”
Virgil walked past Roman and opened his door all the way again, looking out into the hallway before speaking. “Alright, ready for lesson one?”
Roman thought about it. “…Answer something for me first.”
“Shoot.”
“Are you okay?”
Virgil made a face at him. “What do you mean?”
Roman could feel his chest aching. “You were alone with Patton.”
“Patton’s chill, dude. He hasn’t smacked me once in the two years I’ve been here, which I didn’t know was possible. He was just worried about me after my freak-out, but I’m good.”
“The bed was creaking.”
Virgil seemed confused. “Beds do that when you move on them. There might be a loose joint or something I gotta fix, though.”
Roman wasn’t convinced. “He didn’t do anything at all?”
“Patton’s never laid a hand on me.”
“…That’s not true.”
“Why would I lie about that?”
“So that I won’t be scared so much.”
Virgil sighed and rubbed his palms into his eyes. “Whatever, believe what you want, you’ll get there eventually. You want my help or not?”
“…Yes.”
Virgil stepped out of the room and gestured for Roman to follow him, just going to the hallway in front of Roman’s room. Once Roman moved to stand in Virgil’s doorway, Virgil motioned for him to stop. Roman stayed right where he was.
“Alright, lesson one, making it downstairs without being a loud ass.” Virgil pressed his foot on a specific part of the carpet where the floorboard squeaked underneath. “The upstairs has a lot of squeaky floorboards, no clue why. But there’s a way to dodge it. When leaving my bedroom, you take one step, skip a step, take two steps, turn left, skip a step, take one step, go right, then just don’t step on the first step of the staircase at all, the whole thing squeaks. You can try it if you want.”
Roman’s curiosity got the better of him, so he did what Virgil suggested, keeping his steps close together so his heel was touching his toe and followed Virgil’s pattern. He skipped all the places Virgil told him to and made it to the stairs without squeaking the floor for the first time since he came here.
“I have a pattern for a trip to the bathroom and to the stairs. Our rooms are pretty close together, so your pattern probably wouldn’t be much different than mine.” Virgil put one foot forward and tested the floor methodically, seeing which areas squeaked and which ones didn’t. He slowly made his way to the stairs where he stopped on the second step, seemingly satisfied with himself. “Skip a step, take two steps, skip another one, turn right, skip a step, then one more step. Though your feet are bigger than mine, so your pattern might be different.”
“Awww, you’re a shorty.” Roman teased.
“Shut the fuck up.” Virgil deadpanned. “Okay, next lesson. Follow me.”
Roman followed Virgil down the stairs, noticing the way Virgil stepped down them. He stepped in specific areas on each step and skipped some entirely as he made his way downstairs, effectively making a lot less noise than Roman did just walking normally. Though, Virgil did say he’d been living here for two years, so it’d make sense that he knows all the tricks to get around Patton. Maybe him and this stormy night could be partners in crime.
Virgil motioned for Roman to follow him into the kitchen and around where the garage door was, pointing to a window once Roman caught up to him. “Lesson number two, this window is your best friend.”
“How so?” Roman asked.
“Well, first off, it’ll help you sneak out without getting caught like an idiot. You know, like last night.”
Roman put an offended hand to his chest. “I was not trying to sneak out!”
“What were you doing then?”
“I was looking for something, and no, you don’t get to know what.”
Virgil gave him a look. “Right. Well, for when you do sneak out, this exit is the way to go. Patton has security cameras pointed at the back, front, and garage doors of the house. This is the only window out of the sight of all of them. Then, you sneak your way around the side of the house and go on your merry way until sunrise.”
Roman crossed his arms at Virgil. “And how often do you use this?”
“Like, twice a week.”
“Twice a week!? Not even I sneak out that often!”
Virgil shrugged. “I don’t go far, usually just to the park down the road. I haven’t gotten kidnapped yet, so it’s whatever.”
“You scare me.”
“Good.” Virgil motioned for Roman to follow him again. “Back upstairs.”
Roman scoffed. “We were just there.”
“And we’re going back up there again.” Virgil smirked mercilessly and walked back to the staircase. Roman rolled his eyes, but he was enjoying Virgil’s tips too much to not follow him. He went up the stairs and met with Virgil next to the closet.
Virgil pointed to the closet door. “This thing right here? Lesson number three, this place is your best friend.”
“It already is my best friend. I use all the paints up there.”
“More than that.” Virgil opened the closet door and turned on the light, motioning for Roman to come inside with him. Roman wasn’t very inclined to because of the cramped space, but his curiosity was greater than his fear for once, so he stepped inside and closed the door behind them while Virgil turned on the light.
“The attic makes a great hiding spot. There’s a lot of drawers and small spaces up there where it’s easy to hide. Granted, it’s easy to tell when someone is up there because you can’t pull the stairs back up when you’re in the attic. But that’s where this comes in.” Virgil grabbed a rope off one of the closet shelves. “Tie it around the doorknob and tie the other end to the stairs. No one can open the door if you do that.”
“Sounds like a great way to give away where you’re hiding if no one can open the door.” Roman pointed out.
Virgil shrugged. “Patton doesn’t try very hard. He might test the handle, but he gives up if the door won’t open. He’ll ask you if you’re okay once you leave, though.”
Roman liked his hiding spot better. It was enough in the open that no one would check it, and there was no indication that Roman might be hiding behind the cabinet. This could be a good temporary spot, though. At least until he could get a black box that could support his weight.
Virgil pulled down the stairs to the attic, grabbing the rope and tying its ends to the stairs and doorknob like he described. He then went up into the attic as Roman followed behind. When Roman peeked his head up into the attic, Virgil was crouched beside a box full of Christmas decorations. Roman walked over to where he was.
“Lesson four, keep your mouth shut about this or else.” Virgil reached behind the box into the corner of the room and pulled out a smaller box that had been hidden behind it. When he opened the small one, he let Roman take a good look at what was inside. Granola bars, a container of salted peanuts, water bottles and chip bags. Roman grabbed a granola bar and a water bottle as he gave Virgil a questioning look.
“Having a spot with hidden food just makes me feel better.” Virgil explained. “I’ve never had to use it, Patton feeds us like he’s four grandmas fucking combined. But if you’re hiding up here and you get hungry, I stash it regularly.”
“Does Logan know about all this?” Roman asked, opening his water bottle to take a sip.
Virgil shook his head. “Like I said, I didn’t show Logan jack shit when he first came. And it’s too late now, and it’s not like Logan would ever use it anyway. Lucky son of a bitch never feels the need to hide.”
Roman laughed. “Lucky is one word for it.”
Virgil didn’t respond, just took the container of peanuts and hid the box back in it’s hiding spot. The two ate in silence for a while; a kind of silence that wasn’t awkward or tense, but wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Maybe because Virgil still felt like a stranger to him.
After a while of them both relaxing next to each other, Virgil finally spoke up. “Tell me your trauma and I’ll tell you mine.”
Roman raised an eyebrow at him, “And knowing your trauma benefits me how?”
“You feel a little less alone. Also solidarity and shit.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m not spilling. Share whatever you want, but it won’t be reciprocated.”
“Can’t say I didn’t try.” Virgil ate a mouthful of peanuts. “I have a theory, you know. Less of a theory and more of the truth, but still. Patton purposely fosters abused kids.”
Roman snorted. “Sounds about right. Easy targets.”
“I think it’s more about him wanting to help us.”
“Believe whatever you want, Hot Topic.”
Virgil smirked. “Hot Topic?”
“Am I wrong?”
Virgil rolled his eyes, but he still smiled a little. “Whatever.”
They didn’t talk much after that, only enjoying the silence together in their own world trapped away in the attic. It wasn’t exactly Roman’s plan, but he still felt safe. He sipped on his water and thought a lot about Virgil’s lessons, trying to ensure they were deep in his memory. But he didn’t need them now. Instead, he sat in the corner of the attic, comforted by the knowledge of the door being locked underneath them, with a silent acquaintance a good distance from him.
It wasn’t the self-care day Roman had planned, but he wasn’t complaining. It worked.
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bloodpenned · 3 years
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long message ahead because i was possessed by this idea and i cannot wait to vomit it out for you:
replaying DoL has brought this au to mind: whore pc x caleb. just as gross as caleb sometimes on the stumbling home covered in fluids. probably dirt ass poor, too, considering you live off tips and “private room” time. you have a reputation for it, too, though you’re just as notorious for throwing a quick punch.
just the aesthetic of finding caleb out in an alley, freshly thrown out of the back of someone’s car after fucking him, and helping him home against your better judgement. using the edge of your tattered jacket to wipe off some of the cum and blood off his skin. you even end up offering your mostly untouched milkshake to him, in case he needs some energy.
and then, indulgently, further down the line: broke ass roommates! you run the idea by him when you have to fight off one more asshole trying to break into your shitty apartment. might as well share it with someone who won’t judge, right? with your combined forces, you may even be able to afford a place with hot water. you’re not ashamed of inviting caleb in to save water, though it’s less about the sexual stuff and more exfoliating his skin and lathering him up in soap.
sometimes you stumble in at 5 am, all cranky and sore, and caleb’s still up playing games. you crawl into his lap and take a second controller and fail miserably at beating him, but it’s a good time anyway. in fact, you’re so used to touch you do it absentmindedly. but in an affectionate way. greeting him with a hug, resting against him on the couch, fluffing his hair up in the mornings - that sort of stuff. you end up doing his laundry for him (you’re good at getting stains out of clothes) if he takes care of making sure you wake up in time for work. other times he has to hold your hair back while you throw up into a toilet when you had to down a few drinks when a client’s extra disgusting.
with you making sure he has clean clothes and a decent livingspace and more regular shower times, he looks softer. you enjoy giving him manicures and painting his nails to match whatever color you’ve dyed your hair that week. the two of you can’t afford heating, so you end up sharing a bed in the winter, then permanently when you get used to it. you sleep so deep he has to physically push you out of bed to go to work.
at best, you’re friends with benefits. you never turn him down if he wants to fuck. the novelty of doing it of your own free will makes it fun. (the only time you get pissed is if he ever offers to pay). you don’t bring up dating because like … come on. caleb can do better than you.
ANON SUCH A GOOD CONCEPT.......... i did not shut the fuck up for more than a second hope u enjoy
caleb' is, indeed, just about the last person who would judge you. he's just glad to have a place to stay. you've given him food and some affection, so now he's eternally bound to you <3 (/hj). he's not the best at fighting anyone off, but fuck if he isn't ready to try for you! he spends the hours you're away looking for any possible way to save money, mostly sales on essentials like,, food and soap and the like. he's fine with getting naked in front of you, not ashamed at all, but he shudders underneath being cleaned.
caleb who lets you win while you're playing games, only when you're so drunk and annoyed that you would never notice. it seems to cheer you up just a little. he desperately hides how he feels receiving such casual, affectionate touch, moving his face out of view or rambling about some random thing to distract you. but he never pushes you away. who helps you change and wash you when you're too out of it to walk anymore, without trying anything. who patches up any wounds since he's been doing it to himself for ages.
he gets softer. he's less gross about his desires, less likely to hurt himself. because he's feeling a lot better, living with someone and actually taking care of himself. he's still a masochist- but he doesn't use it as a coping mechanism to function anymore. instead, he shows you a picture of the ugliest combination of nail polish colours you've ever seen in your life, and asks if you could do it with a grin. caleb's a bit of a human heater so you end up draped all over each other once you're sharing a bed!! he sets like 2348934 timers to wake himself up in time to get you out of bed. he'll drag you by your arm if he has to, or literally spray water in your face.
honestly, i'd imagine you'd mess around with each other quite a bit. maybe it's even a pleasant experience to be in control during sex, when you're usually in the service of others? in his mind, you're basically dating but you just haven't said it out loud yet.
but this also just made me think of,, caleb also being a sex worker? i feel like he could go down that road anyway, but in dol even more so! exchanging tips on who to avoid since they're too rough or try to leave without paying. sticking outside the rooms or houses to look out for the other. (this is especially important for the kind of audience caleb attracts- he markets himself as being into very violent shit. someone has to make sure he's not getting murdered.) developing some kind of code with hand signs so you can know when something's up. sharing disgusting stories about clients while you're washing their cum off of each other's bodies. just two disadvantaged people looking out for each other.
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prettyboybarzal · 4 years
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Falling For You
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Pairing: Jake DeBrusk x female!OC
Summary: Sutton Beckett is settling for an unhappy relationship, but a chance encounter with Jake changes everything. 
Word Count: 18k+
A/N: Happy birthday, JD! Here’s the fic I’ve been working on since the beginning of quarantine. It’s been fun for me to write in my free time. It’s mostly a friends to lovers story, but very much a slow burn. SLOW. BURN. (Title inspired by Fallingforyou by The 1975)
Warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption, shitty boyfriend (not Jake)
Masterlist
January 20th, 2019
Sutton Beckett was pouting into a Long Island Iced Tea in the middle of a club in Boston. Despite being surrounded by her two best friends and a sea of beautiful, smiling people, she couldn’t find it in herself to crack so much as a smirk.
“Stop moping,” her roommate, Kate, demanded. Sutton lifted her chin and caught the glare she was sending her. “You’re no fun when you’re fighting with Garrett.”
“So, she’s no fun all the time?” their other roommate, Mia, asked with a sarcastic laugh.
“I’m fun!”
“Yeah, when you’re not fixated on every little detail of every little fight you have with him.”
Sutton almost opened her mouth to argue that her roommates were wrong, but she was tired of fighting it. They were completely right. Her relationship of two years was draining her energy completely.
When she first met him, their relationship felt like a dream. He was older, so he had a well-paying job and she reaped the benefits of those paychecks. He brought her to five-star restaurants and surprised her with gifts just because. He talked about the future and his plans to buy them a house on the Cape. She loved him, she saw that future with him, but as time had gone on the vision was getting dimmer.
After they hit a year and a half, a switch flipped.
When Garrett stopped caring, she blamed it on his work, but months passed and she needed something new to blame it on. His parents’ divorce, his sister’s Bridezilla wedding planning, even the death of his childhood dog. But she knew, and her friends knew, the relationship was a disaster and her excuses weren’t good enough.
“What was the fight about tonight?”
“He didn’t like what she was wearing,” Kate answered the question before Sutton could even open her mouth. Sutton opened her mouth, no doubt to come to Garrett’s defense, but Kate warned her, “Don’t defend him.”
“I’m going to grab another drink.”
Sutton found an open space at the bar and gunned for it. But, just as she stepped into the space, someone else did the same and she nearly crashed right into the broad chest of a random man. He stopped short just before she collided into him. When she looked up at him, he spoke but the music was too loud to hear. So, he leaned down to speak into her ear.
“You can order first,” he spoke, nodding towards the bar. “I’ll wait my turn.”
The boy stood at least two steps behind her as she leaned against the bar and stood on her tippy toes to get the bartender’s attention. She was shorter than almost everyone standing at the counter and kept getting ignored as a result, so he finally took matters into his own hands and waved the bartender down.
She spotted him and made a beeline to their side of the bar, though she looked directly past Sutton and up to him.
“I’ll have a ginger whiskey,” he spoke. He extended his hand with his card right over Sutton’s shoulder. “And whatever she’s having you can put on my card, too.”
Sutton almost protested, but the moment she turned to do so, he simply shook his head and she snapped her mouth shut. She placed her order, despite herself, and turned back to the boy as the bartender went to grab the drinks.
“I have a boyfriend,” she told him. He choked on his laughter, but said nothing more as he leaned over her to grab their drinks from the counter of the bar. He handed her glass to her as she continued rambling. “I wasn’t sure if you were, like, flirting with me and I didn’t want to take advantage of you if you were.”
“I was totally flirting with you,” he admitted. Sutton’s eyebrows shot up at his honesty. “But, hey, no problem. We can just be friends, yeah?”
She eyed him skeptically because, honestly, no guys just wanted to be friends. But the smile on his face made it hard for her to believe that he had any bad intentions. He just looked kinder than most guys—soft eyes, kind smile, brown hair that was a little long and tousled like he couldn’t have been bothered to groom it himself.
“Sure, we can be friends,” she told him with a smile that mirrored his own. “What’s your name?”
“Jake,” he introduced himself as he extended his hand.
“I’m Sutton,” she responded, dropping her hand in his. His fingers, rough against her much softer and more delicate skin, curled around her hand and gave her a firm shake.
“I love your outfit,” he said, leaning back to admire the lace body suit she paired with black skinny jeans. Her hand remained in his grasp as she threw her head back with a laugh. How beautifully ironic this interaction was.
“Thank you,” she responded, shaking her head at him in amusement as they dropped each other’s hands. “Guys never compliment girls on what they wear, so thank you for being a breath of fresh air.”
“Not even what’s-his-name?”
“Who?”
“Your boyfriend.”
She laughed again before offering his name.
“Garrett.”
“Garrett,” he scoffed. He knew he was probably treading on thin ice, but he also noticed how easily the laughter was falling from her lips, so he continued. “Garrett doesn’t compliment you?”
“Not tonight,” she said, gazing down at the glass in her hands. She didn’t mean for it to come out sounding that sad, and yet. “No.”
Jake frowned as he watched her close in on herself. The laughter was gone and her eyes had gone dark and the smile on her lips was upside down, so he asked, “Do you want to dance?”
And, because the five minutes she’d been around him made her smile harder than the past six months with Garrett, she decided to say, “I’d love to.”
In the middle of the dancefloor, he spun her into his chest. His free hand fell to her hips as her arms curled around his neck to rest her elbows on his shoulders. She giggled softly again before curling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
It started out innocent enough, but as the music changed so did the air between them. It wasn’t long before her back was pressed against his chest, glasses forgotten on a table a few steps away from them. His hands danced along her sides and wrapped around her waist to pull her close. 
He liked the way she laughed and the way she felt against him and he noticed that she would lull her head to the side when he leaned down to whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her neck and she reacted immediately and it turned him on. He wanted to touch her bare skin, he wanted to kiss her neck, and he wondered if he could press his luck. He reached up, brushed her hair behind her, and leaned in to place a chaste kiss against her neck.
Nothing more happened, though they danced through another few songs before he was dragged away from her to rejoin his friends. He practically begged for her phone and left his number under a contact name of Jane (“Just in case Gary sees,” he explained. “Garrett,” she corrected him.)
When she returned home that night, she jumped in the shower immediately, earning confused looks from her roommates. She told them that she just felt gross when she really just needed to wash him off her skin.
---
February 12th, 2019
“Garrett, wonderful to see you.”
“Likewise.”
Sutton laughed to herself at the sarcastic formalities exchanged between her boyfriend and Mia. It had been a few weeks since her night out with the girls and, even though Sutton and Garrett hadn’t fought since, Mia still couldn’t stand seeing him in their apartment.
“Where’s my girl?”
“Bedroom.”
Sutton heard him approaching and pulled the door open. When he stepped in, he held up a jersey and waved it in her direction.
“You can wear my Pasta jersey tonight,” he spoke. “He’s one of our best players.”
She reached out and took it from his hand, but he didn’t release it. Instead, he leaned in and puckered his lips for a kiss. She complied after mentally rolling her eyes at him. He let go of the jersey, and she slipped it on over a long sleeve shirt. “Are you excited?”
“Yeah, baby,” he answered, stepping up behind her as she check herself out in the mirror. He wound his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “This is such a great gift.”
“I’m glad,” she said softly, thinking about all the money she’d spent on it. He better have liked it, if not only for the dent it left in her wallet.
They made it to their seats five minutes before puck drop. He spent most of their ride to the Garden talking her ear off about the team and the season they’d been having, but Sutton never cared much for sports so most of it was in one ear and out the other.
It wasn’t until the team came out for the beginning of the game that Sutton’s worlds collided. Above her head on the massive Jumbotron, Jake was smiling down at her. She gasped, hand jolting in surprise just enough to spill some beer on Garrett’s jeans.
“Sutton, what the hell?” he grunted, wiping the liquid off his leg. She muttered an apology, but her eyes were already searching the ice for the boy she’d been considering a missed connection. He stood at center ice, shuffling on his skates as the anthem played. And his number? 74. Just like the jersey Garrett was wearing.
She was flustered in the very worst way. It felt like she was barely functioning, unable to carry a conversation with Garrett because her mind was so clearly on Jake. It was made even worse whenever she caught a glimpse of his last name branded across Garrett’s back. She felt a little bit sick, and a little bit guilty, even though she didn’t really have a reason to be.
On the way back to her apartment, Garrett chattered on about the game while she stared down at her phone in her lap. It felt heavier now that she’d been reminded of the number in her phone.
He walked her up to her apartment, though she kind of hoped he’d just stay in the car, and waited for her to change out of his jersey before going. Kate began to chat with him, and Sutton made a mental note to thank her later for at least being polite.
“What are you guys going to do for Valentines?”
“Well, we just had an early Valentines’ date tonight,” he said. Sutton reentered the room at that moment, wishing she had stayed in her bedroom for a moment longer so she didn’t have to hear that. “Did you have fun, baby?”
She nodded because she genuinely thought if she opened her mouth that she would cry.
“Oh!” Kate responded. Her face was white, eyes shifting uncomfortably between her best friend and the guy who’d just crushed her spirit. “No dinner on the day of?”
Garrett offered the girls a performative pouted, dropping an arm over Sutton’s shoulders, as he responded, “I tried to get reservations at Sutton’s favorite spot, but they’re all booked up.”
“When did you try to do that?” Kate asked, eyebrows raised in shock.
“I called last weekend.”
“Garrett, it’s Valentines’ Day,” Mia grunted as she entered the room. He glared at her. “You can’t just call the weekend before and get a table. You should’ve planned in advance.”
“Oh, no,” Sutton spoke up, suddenly finding her voice as she waved off their concerns. “It’s really not a big deal. We’ve been together for so long, you know? We’ve celebrated way too many things. Besides, Valentines’ is just a money maker, right?”
“You crack me up,” he murmured. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sutton’s lips. “Listen, babe, I have to run. Early morning tomorrow. I’ll call you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Kate and Mia waited until they heard the elevator doors close before launching into a dramatic monologue about how much they hated him, how Sutton deserved better. Sutton, on the other hand, made herself a grilled cheese while they ranted at her and tried to tune them out.
When she was in bed later that night, she couldn’t find it in her to turn on the television or read the book she’d bought earlier that afternoon. Instead, she stared blankly at the wall in front of her and let her brain run a mile a minute.
Finally, after about thirty minutes, she grabbed her phone and pulled up Jake’s contact. She laughed at the contact photo, a goofy selfie he’d taken of himself just before leaving her that night.
When were you going to tell me you were a professional hockey player?
She deleted it and retyped it about five times before just hitting send and hoping for the best.
Across the city, Jake was slipping into his apartment and nearly dropped the food he grabbed on the way home when he saw her name flash across the screen. He smiled when he read her message and settled down at the kitchen table to respond before eating.
Right now, I guess
Bubbles popped up on his screen immediately as she typed out a message of her own. He locked his phone, then unlocked it, watching the bubbles intently as if urging her to type faster.
I was at the game tonight… My boyfriend wore your jersey.
Jake licked his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth to suppress the cocky grin that was finding its way to his lips.
What did you wear?
Sutton laughed at the undertone of the message, but before she could respond he’d already sent another.
I don’t mean it like you think I do. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Her response: I wore a Pastrnak jersey… And my mind isn’t in the gutter
Well, why don’t you just rip my heart out, Sutton???
The next morning, she woke up to a follow request from him and the realization that a simple shower wasn’t going to make him go away.
---
February 14th, 2019
In the two days since Garrett dropped the bomb about the lack of Valentines’ plans, Sutton had come to terms with it. It was okay that they weren’t going out to some fancy dinner surrounded by happy couples or desperate singles… As long as he did something to make up for it.
Quite honestly, she wasn’t asking for much.
Flowers would be great, she thought. But, at this point, she would settle for a heartfelt card (or, hell, even a text).
She woke up to a coffee, still hot, waiting for her on the counter with a sweet Post-It note from Kate. Mia even snuck freshly baked cookies into the girls’ lunches. Sutton would be making dinner in their apartment that night as her contribution to their Valentines’ Day plans. At the end of the day, she knew she’d be thankful she spent the night with her girls instead of Garrett.
Maybe that was a problem.
There were no flowers waiting for her when she got to work, and still none by lunchtime. She checked with the office’s receptionist three times that day, wondering if she’d missed a call or something like that. But she hadn’t.
It was around 4 p.m., two hours until the end of her work day, when she heard the mail cart rolling down the hallway.
“Special delivery for Miss Beckett!”
Sutton’s heart fluttered. She practically danced out to the hallway from her desk. The cute elderly man who delivered the mail was standing just beyond the threshold with a black box wrapped in a beautiful white bow.
“Thank you, Earl.”
“Enjoy, beautiful,” he said. “He better treat you right or someone else might come and snatch you up.”
Sutton laughed politely as she walked back to her desk. She placed the box down and squealed excitedly as she pulled the ribbon apart. She took the top off, pulled back the tissue paper, and revealed a Bruins t-shirt with a note that read: You’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend
+
While Kate and Mia set the dinner table that night, Sutton found herself preoccupied with dinner and Jake DeBrusk, once again. She’d been thinking about his gift all day.
Since she texted him the other night, they’d been Snapchatting a little bit. It was never anything of substance, just photos of his sneakers or skates and her coffees. They hadn’t exchanged any message since earlier that morning, and certainly not after the arrival of his gift, but she knew she’d have to thank him eventually. It made her nervous to think about. She typed out a dozen of texts, but kept talking herself out of it and deleting them. She was so far in her head that she couldn’t figure out how to deal with the situation.
She figured that she should’ve been more upset with him. Sending her a gift on Valentines’ Day when he knew she had boyfriend was clearly crossing a line and she knew she needed to stop him before he took it too far. But, she couldn’t help but ask herself if she even wanted to.
Against her better judgement, Sutton decided she needed to ask for help from the girls. So, as she placed the entrée down on their dining table, she announced, “I need to talk to you guys. And I need you to not be crazies, or jump to conclusions, or anything like that.”
“If it’s about Garrett, I’m liable to be a little crazy.”
“It’s not about him,” she said. “Well, it kind of is. Indirectly, at least.”
“Spit it out, Sutton.”
“Remember when we went out after Garrett and I fought at the end of last month?” she asked. The girls nodded, already digging into the food on their plate despite Sutton being too nervous to put anything on her own. Kate noticed and began shoveling food onto her plate for her, pushing it towards her after it was full. “I met a guy.”
“Excuse me?” Mia blurted out. “What do you mean you met a guy?”
“His name was Jake,” she continued. The girls nodded along, hanging onto every word that Sutton said while she went through the details of the night she met him, and the night she saw him again. They both had smiles on their faces, giggling at the way Sutton relayed their texts from two nights prior.
Kate couldn’t believe she had been talking to a player on the Bruins. Mia was just happy she was talking to someone other than Garrett.
“He sent me one of those t-shirt jerseys,” she said. “Today.”
“Today?!”
“Yeah, and he left a note that said ‘you’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend’.”
The girls swooned.
“I love him!” Mia announced. Kate nodded in agreement. “You have to call him and say thank you.”
“Call him?”
“Absolutely!”
“I feel guilty,” she admitted. “I should probably let him down easy, right? I have a boyfriend, and he knows that. He shouldn’t have sent me that gift… Let alone on Valentines’ Day!”
As expected, her roommates groaned or eye rolled or reacted in whatever frustrated way they wanted to.
“We’ll clean up after dinner if you call him.”
+
Jake declined her call, and then FaceTimed her back. She threw the phone onto her bed, far away from her, at the sight of herself and grabbed an elastic from her dresser to tame the frizzy locks on her head.
“What kind of psychopath FaceTimes someone they hardly know?!” Sutton screamed to her roommates. She heard them laughing in the living room. “And without warning!”
“Answer him!” Mia yelled. “I hate the sound of your ringtone!”
Sutton huffed out in frustration and plopped onto her bed, checking once more to see if she looked okay. She pressed her thumb over the front camera and answered.
Jake was grinning when he popped up, but then he frowned comically.
“I FaceTimed you for a reason.”
“And I voice called you for a reason.”
Sutton watched as Jake threw his head back with a laugh and smiled despite herself. He was in a hotel bed, at least that’s what it looked like, and he was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow. He stared at the black screen on his end of the call and sighed.
“Sutton, show yourself.”
She rolled her eyes, but did as she was told and pulled her thumb off the camera. Before he could say anything, she asked, “How did you know where I work?”
“You put the building on your Instagram story yesterday,” he answered. “And the company is in your Instagram bio. I put two and two together.”
“I really appreciate the gift, Jake, but I have a boyfriend.”
Jake blinked at Sutton, unphased by the statement, before finally saying, “I know that.”
“You really shouldn’t be sending me gifts on Valentines’ Day.”
“It’s Valentines’ Day?” he asked. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious or he was just joking around. He laughed softly at her confused expression. “Relax, Sutton. I just wanted to get you the jersey before our game tomorrow night.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he teased. She rolled her eyes. “Was he mad?”
“He didn’t see it.”
“Why? Did you throw it out? Don’t tell me you threw it out. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I could pay for a new one, but I always hoped if anyone was going to get rid of my jersey they would burn it. It’s so much cooler that way.”
Sutton laughed at him, and Jake beamed at the sound. He hadn’t heard it since the night at the club and it was just as pretty as he remembered.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Shouldn’t you be out right now?” he asked. “It’s only 9 p.m. You look like you’re in bed.”
“That’s because I am in bed.”
“Why?”
“Because I have work tomorrow.”
“What did you do tonight?”
“You ask so many questions.”
“I’m trying to get to know you.”
Although they were a whole country apart from each other, him in a hotel room in California and her in bed in Boston, she felt vulnerable. It was because of the way he was looking at her through the screen, the softness of his voice when he was flirting with her, the not-Valentines’ gift and handwritten note that still sat beside her.
“I made dinner for my roommates and I,” she answered. “It was nice.”
“You and Garrett have roommates?”
“Oh, my God,” Sutton grumbled. He was really going to make her spell it out for him wasn’t she. (And, yes, he fully intended to.) “No. I don’t live with him. I live with my two best friends.”
“Did he not spend Valentines’ with you?”
“No, he did,” she said. Her voice dropped to a mumble. “Two nights ago, at TD Garden with you and thousands of other people.”
“Tell me he got you a better gift than a t-shirt with my last name on it,” Jake pleaded, no longer finding the humor in teasing her about him. Sutton grit her teeth in response, not wanting to tell him the truth but knowing she couldn’t lie. “I am your fucking Valentine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am by default,” he argued. “And so are your roommates apparently.”
“We celebrated early! Why is that so crazy?”
“Who bought the tickets to the game?” Jake asked. Her silence spoke volumes. “You did, huh?” Sutton nodded. “What kind of asshole doesn’t get his girlfriend a gift on Valentines’ day? What kind of asshole doesn’t even bring her out to dinner?”
“Jake, that’s enough.”
“Did he send you flowers? A card?”
“Jake!” Sutton yelled. He pulled his phone away from his face at the sharpness of her tone. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I already hear it from my roommates. I don’t need to hear it from you. You don’t even know me.”
“Well, I want to.”
There was a pause in conversation, a moment of intense eye contact (if you could even call it that through the phone). Then, Sutton dropped her head back in frustration.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about you since I first met you.”
“I have a boyfriend, Jake.”
“Sort of.”
“Stop.”
“Okay.”
Sutton let out a frustrated sigh and Jake watched her run her free hand through her hair while her eyes gazed at something across the room. They looked like they were welling up and Jake frowned, the feeling of helplessness washing over him as he realized he didn’t quite know how to make the situation any better.
“You’re going to wear the shirt tomorrow, though, right?” he asked, forcing a grin onto his face. She looked at him and laughed. “Because if you tell me you’re wearing a Pasta jersey again, it will break my heart.”
“Yes, I’ll wear your jersey.”
They spent another thirty minutes on the phone talking about nothing important. Jake was happy to be talking to her for real, not through Snapchats that he had to disguise as snaps he sent to everyone on his contact list. As their time together ended, it was clear neither of them was quite ready to hang up.
“I’ll admit,” she started. Jake’s eyebrows perked up. “I like talking to you, Jake DeBrusk.”
“I knew I’d wear you down at some point.”
“But I have a boyfriend.”
“What did I say at the bar?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of what he was referring to. The only thing that came to mind from that night was the feeling of his lips against her skin. It was hard to remember everything else. He made her head fuzzy. “We can just be friends.”
---
March 1st, 2019
Sutton’s relationship with Garrett and her friendship with Jake were never supposed to come closer to intersecting than it had on February 12th and there were a few reasons for that.
The first was that Sutton didn’t want to taint the friendship she had with Jake by throwing Garrett into the equation. It just felt too close for comfort. Besides, she knew the two wouldn’t get along. Jake was giggly, happy, full of life. Garrett was serious, grumpy, exhausting. Just because she liked being around them separately did not mean she’d like them together.
The second was that she knew if Garrett found out about their friendship, he would be pissed. There was a reason she shied away from having guy friends. Garrett hated sharing her with other guys, and that included her work husband who was a gay man in his 40s. He was slightly possessive, but she brushed it off as his own insecurities and vowed not to make the relationship more difficult than it needed to be. Just like everything else in life, Sutton catered the relationship to him.
Kate and Mia found humor in the way that Sutton’s life had suddenly become a revolving door. Garrett was there one minute and the second he was gone Jake was showing up at their front door. They started referring to the two parts of Sutton’s life as church and state. Always separate.
She found it easy to keep it that way. Her friendship with Jake was almost completely virtual, save for a happy hour or two. He was busy with hockey, so she didn’t have to worry about him asking her to hang out on the weekends or ever at night. She reserved those for Garrett.
Besides, something about being with another guy after sunset just felt a little scandalous to her and she didn’t need anyone—Jake, Kate and Mia, Garrett, herself—getting the wrong idea.
Nights with Garrett were few and far between. He seemed to be getting busier and busier at work, but Sutton played the part of the doting girlfriend (which really she was) even better. She made him dinner before he went in for night shifts, waited for him to come home from working overtime to give him a massage, made him breakfast before he went out to work again.
Things seemed to be getting better between them, despite his busy schedule. So much so that he met her at work that Friday to bring her to happy hour. He said he wanted to check out a new place downtown, and she went happily because it finally felt right.
Apparently, the opening of this bar was highly anticipated because the place was packed. Unlike Valentines’ Day, Garrett called ahead. Sutton kept the sarcastic comments swirling through her mind to herself and settled into the booth across from him with a sweet smile.
They browsed the menu; Sutton a little longer than Garrett due to her indecisiveness. He gazed around the bar, taking in the atmosphere and then the sight of not one, not two, but a whole group of Boston Bruins.
“Sutton, you’ll never guess who just walked in,” he said in an excited whisper. Sutton gazed up at him from the menu with a smile, then followed his eyes to the door. “Do you know who that is?”
Among a group of men in athletic clothing stood Jake in a Bruins sweatshirt. She spun back to face Garrett and shook her head to give him the illusion that she had no idea who they were even though her heart was about to jump out of her chest.
“Those are some of the Bruins players,” he murmured. “I gotta get a picture with them.”
“Well, why don’t you just let them get drinks and then you can ask for a picture before we leave,” she suggested. The shake of her voice was enough to give her away, if Garrett would only listen.
“That’s Jake DeBrusk,” he continued, eyes still trained on the men across the room. “And Charlie McAvoy.”
“Stop staring, babe,” she said. She took his chin between her fingers and redirected his attention to her. “It’s rude to stare.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, leaning back against his seat. “It’s like if one of those podcasters you liked walked in. I’m star struck.”
Sutton’s heart was pounding in her chest long after Garrett stopped staring at the players that had entered the bar. She knew Jake wouldn’t notice her with her back to him, and since he’d never met Garrett it was impossible that he’d even recognize him. But with Garrett jumping for joy at the opportunity to meet them, she knew she couldn’t avoid him completely.
She spent the entire time trying to figure out how this was going to go down, and even when it came down to it she couldn’t be sure she was making the right decision.
She gathered her things, including her nerves, as Garrett approached Jake. He’d been on the way to the bar when Garrett reached him and the two exchanged polite conversation, smile plastered across Jake’s face as usual.
“Sutton, baby, would you come take a picture for us?”
His smile dropped the moment Sutton locked eyes with him.
“Sure!” she said cheerily, diverting her eyes from his stare. She flitted over to take Garrett’s hand in hers. Jake watched, stomach turning. He was frozen in place. She wasn’t even going to say hello? She wouldn’t meet his eyes or even give him a playful look, a wink even, to acknowledge him behind Garrett’s back.
Jake clenched his jaw and led them back to the table, teeth grinding against each other like they never have before.
“Boys, real quick picture, okay?”
Everything moved so fast. Garrett jumped in with them, Sutton snapped the picture, then stepped away as Garrett praised them on the season they’d been having. She ignored the way Jake was staring at her, tapping away at her phone instead of engaging with him. Like, what else was she supposed to do?
“What’s your name?” Charlie called out. Sutton looked up at him, anxious as all hell that the cat was going to be out of the bag in approximately five seconds. Thankfully, Garrett was talking to one of the other guys they were with and she caught her breath. “You look familiar.”
“Familiar?” she asked with a laugh. Jake watched her carefully. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”
Charlie looked skeptical and then, as he turned to ask Jake if he thought you look familiar too, it clicked.
“Holy shit,” he murmured. And then, as he looked back and forth between the two of them, he also realized the tension. “Holy shit.”
Jake shook his head at Charlie before turning to sit in his chair. Sutton stared at his back, hating every choice she’d made in the minutes before.
“Well, listen, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” Garrett finally said. Sutton redirected her attention to him, hand curling around his forearm as he reached out to her. “Good luck the rest of the way.”
He received words of thanks from the men as they turned back to their food and drinks, and then he was guiding her out of the entrance of the restaurant. Sutton stole one last glance at Jake on the way out and knew that she fucked up.
For the rest of the meal, Jake was quieter than usual because his head was reeling. He was stupid to ever get attached to her. All the time they’d spent talking made him forget that she already had someone at home. Seeing him with her, holding her hand, snapped Jake back to reality. He needed to give himself space.
That’s why when Sutton texted him that night to apologize. (I’m sorry about today! I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. But thanks for taking a picture with him.)
He left her on read.
---
March 4th, 2019
Nights were meant for Garrett, but Sutton gave herself one pass.
Jake hadn’t answered her texts or Snapchats since happy hour. She knew the way she acted was shitty, but did he expect her to just tell Garrett about him? It seemed like mess of situation that she didn’t want to get into. Three days later, and after numerous attempts to get in contact with him, she had to go full-on stalker mode.
Jake was at practice late that afternoon, so she planned to grab his favorite meal from a local Thai restaurant and drop it at his apartment when he was home later that night. She followed through, feeling confident in herself as she marched towards his apartment with her head held high.
That feeling dissipated almost as soon as the elevator left the ground floor, but she kept it pushing despite the anxiety. At his door, she knocked once, and waited. No response came. She knocked two more times with the same result and decided to give up.
Maybe it was a sign from the universe that she wasn’t supposed to try to fix this. She took this thought in stride, turning to walk away from his door and find shelter in her apartment across the city. And then the elevator opened and Jake stepped out.
They both stopped in their tracks.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to drop this off,” she answered, extending the Styrofoam take-out box to him. He walked toward her with his duffel bag over his shoulder looking tired and sweaty. He took the box from her hand as he passed by her to unlock his door.
He was momentarily stunned into silence. She had texted him and called him a few times since happy hour, but he figured she’d just stop trying eventually. The thought of never seeing her again stung, but he gave himself a lengthy pep talk the day after the Garrett fiasco and then he re-downloaded all his dating apps.
“I’m going to go.”
“Hold up,” he murmured, kicking the door open. “Come inside for a minute.” Her feet remained planted to the carpeted hallway beneath her feet. She glanced at the elevator, then back at him. “Or don’t.”
Jake pushed the door open enough to slip through it with an annoyed huff of air, and then it slammed shut behind him.
She continued down the hall despite the invitation she desperately wanted to take. She reached the elevator and pressed the button to call it up to his floor. The whir of the car started immediately. The doors opened just a minute later, but Sutton was already on the way back to Jake’s front door.
She only knocked once before he was swinging the door open and stepping aside to welcome her in.
Jake walked straight into the kitchen where the microwave was already heating up the Thai food she’d brought for him. While she sat at the counter, Jake leaned up against the opposite side and asked, “What did you buy me Thai for?”
“It’s an apology.”
“The Thai food is an apology?”
“Yes.”
“For what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he had no idea what he was talking about. He knew damn well what it was for. He just wanted her to say it herself.
“For happy hour the other day.”
Jake hummed, seemingly satisfied by her answer, and grabbed the food from the beeping microwave before slipping out of the kitchen to the living room. Sutton stood there a moment longer, ignoring her overwhelming urge to find a pillow and scream right into it.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Her question was followed by a moment of silence until he reappeared in the doorway. He gave her an amused look before he stepped over to the utensil drawer to grab two forks.
“Sutton, when have I ever wanted you to leave me alone?” He paused. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“No.”
“Great.” He turned and continued out of the room. “Come eat.”
Jake sat on the floor on one side of his coffee table, and Sutton sat across from him. He turned the television on to some rerun of Friends and watched absentmindedly while they ate, his quiet chuckles the only thing filling the air around them.
Sutton watched him, mostly because he wasn’t looking at her, and felt relief wash over her. The tension in her shoulders over almost everything going on in her life was momentarily cured just because she was near him. She knew the Thai food was only a momentary solution and that a more serious conversation would follow later, but she didn’t care. This moment was something she’d been wanting since she saw him on Friday.
After eating, Jake showered and left Sutton in the living room to pick a movie for them to watch. When he returned, she was sitting on the opposite end of the couch from where he had been. He settled down onto the cushion without a word, eyes grazing over the description of the movie she’d picked out.
“Feels weird to have you all the way over there,” he said softly.
She stood and readjusted herself on the cushion beside him. Her legs folded beneath her as she pulled her sweatshirt sleeves over her hands. He noticed the way she was curling into herself and sighed in defeat, dropping his head against the back of the couch.
“Are you cold?” he asked. Sutton glanced over at him. “Or do you just feel that weird around me now?” She frowned. He looked away from her, muttering, “If I had known that you were going to be there with him, I would’ve gone somewhere else.”
“This is so fucked up,” she groaned into her hands. “That’s so unfair to you, Jake.”
“What do you mean?”
“You would have gone somewhere else? So that I could keep my friendship with you private from my relationship? Who does that?” she rambled. “Christ. Why do you deal with this? I’m such a shitty friend.”
“You’re not shitty, Sutt.”
“Yes! I am!” she exclaimed. “I should’ve just told Garrett that we met, but I didn’t because I knew he’d be pissy and I didn’t want to deal with it. Now, look! I’ve just made the situation worse because I hurt you and dug myself into a hole even deeper than it already was.”
“Why would you even think he’d be mad?”
“There’s a reason I’m only friends with girls, Jake.”
He stared at her long and hard after that admission feeling an anger boil in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Finally, he asked, “Does he not let you have friends who are guys?”
Sutton’s answered with a look.
“He—he doesn’t hit you, does he?”
“No!” she exclaimed. “No. Never. I wouldn’t be with him if he was, like, abusive.” She almost couldn’t get the words out because she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She couldn’t even believe herself.
Jake huffed, his eyes rolling in frustration, as he said, “Okay, so he’s not physically abusive.”
“Jake.”
“No, I know,” he murmured. “You don’t want to talk about it. You never want to talk about it.”
He turned his attention back to the TV screen, jaw clenched so he could hold back all the words he wanted to say. He kept it to himself, knowing that if he spoke he’d be speaking out of anger and it would just make the situation worse.
So, he waited until he was composed. He waited until he was levelheaded. And level headed Jake cared more about keeping his friendship with Sutton intact than telling her that her boyfriend was a piece of shit.
“I hate being mad at you so much,” he said with a sigh. She pouted at him. “You’re like my best friend.”
“You’re mine, too,” she whispered. Jake stretched and pulled her into him for a hug. She relaxed in his arms, sighing softly into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I just wish you wouldn’t let him control your life the way you do.”
Sutton pulled away and sighed.
“Things are good between us right now,” she said. “I know you don’t really understand it. Kate and Mia don’t either, I know that. It’s just that Garrett has been good to me. I’m happy.”
“Okay.”
“And I know that our friendship started out a little flirtatiously,” she continued. “But I can’t let you get the wrong idea, Jake. I’m happy with Garrett and I don’t want to lose you because of it. We’re—”
“We’re just friends,” Jake jumped in. “That’s what we have been since you yelled at me for buying you a Valentines’ gift.”
“I just wanted to make sure that the lines weren’t blurred.”
“Not blurred,” he insisted. “You’re my friend, Sutt. That’s all.”
---
March 17th, 2019
Jake was on his way to Sutton’s apartment because Garrett did something fucked up. He was beginning to forget how to treat Sutton again and Jake found himself picking up the pieces more than once. It wasn’t his job. He knew that, and yet he was still showing up to check on her.
Boston was in full-on party mode for St. Patrick’s Day and though Jake had been invited to a teammate’s house that night, he was on his way to Sutton’s apartment with ice cream. She answered the door, eyes rolling when she saw Jake on the other side. She told the girls not to tell him what Garrett had done that day… Clearly, they didn’t listen.
“Why are you here?”
“That was not a nice hello,” he noted as he pushed past her. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons before entering the living room with Sutton hot on his heels. “What are you doing?”
“I was watching Project Runway,” she told him. She grabbed the remote and paused the television. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Is Project Runway your emotional support show?”
“Who says I need emotional support?”
“Your roommates.”
“God, they’re so nosy,” she muttered. “I told them not to call you.”
“I would’ve figured it out even if they didn’t,” he said. He sat down on the couch and opened the pint of ice cream he’d brought with him. “I knew something was wrong just from the way you were texting me.”
“How?”
“Just your general lack of interest in the conversation.”
“Sorry.”
“All good,” he said, waving her off. He lifted the pint up toward her. “That’s why I came with your favorite flavor!”
Sutton fell to the couch beside him and grabbed a spoon, heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. He pulled her legs over his lap and gazed over at her as she started digging into the Ben & Jerry’s in her hand.
“So, what happened?”
“Today’s our anniversary,” she explained. She handed him the pint after placing the spoon in her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as the flavor exploded in her mouth. Jake huffed, scooping out a spoonful for himself.  
“Why isn’t he celebrating with you?”
“He had a St. Patrick’s party at his office,” she answered. “He’s up for a huge promotion at work, again, so he’s sucking up.”
“He couldn’t bring a plus-one?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Sutton might’ve asked Garrett at the beginning of their relationship, but she would never ask him to demand a plus-one now. And there was a very good reason for this. She was sure that if he’d dragged her along, she would find out something that she didn’t want to know. Something along the lines of him cheating on her.
All the signs were there, but she didn’t want to believe it. Or confront him about it.
And she certainly didn’t want to tell Jake.
“That’s so unfair to you,” he grumbled, passing the ice cream back to her. “You should say something to him. I thought things were going well for a little bit.”
“Yeah, well,” she said dismissively. “This is how things are between us.”
“Isn’t it exhausting, Sutton?”
“A little bit.”
“You deserve better than exhausting.”
+
When Kate and Mia got home later that night, they found the two of them wrapped up in each other and a message on the television asking if they were still watching their show. The sound of the door slamming shut startled the two awake and, under the watchful eyes of her roommates, Sutton scrambled off him.
“Hi, sleepy heads.”
“What time is it?” Jake grumbled, reaching out for his phone. He read the time, dropping his head against the pillow in frustration. Sutton left the room in search of sweatshirt and Jake found himself cornered by the other two girls. “I have to go.”
He stood, running his hands through his hair to contain the locks that were sticking up from the pillow. The roommates watched him with amused smiles.
“That was sweet,” Kate said. Mia nodded in agreement, but he just rolled his eyes.
“Friends,” he said. A sigh of disappointment fell from Kate’s lips. “That’s what she wants. That’s what I’m giving her. Don’t complicate it.”
“You two are so full of shit,” Mia grumbled as she marched out of the living room.
When Sutton returned, she looked ready for bed. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her sweatshirt hung loose over her much smaller body. Kate was in the kitchen, out of sight, so Sutton’s guard fell for a moment. She walked over to Jake and wrapped her arms around his waist to cuddle against his chest again.
“Talk to Garrett, would you?”
She looked up at him, almost pleading him to drop the subject, but caught the look in his eye and knew he was serious.
“Okay, I will.”
“I just want you to be happy,” he said. “And he makes you happy, right?”
---
March 26th, 2019
Charlie was disappointed in Jake. There he stood, in Charlie’s kitchen, with his hip cocked against the counter and his phone in his hand. It had been two months since he met this girl and he was still pining after her, even though she had a boyfriend. It was pathetic.
“Sutton?”
Jake hummed at him in response. Charlie rolled his eyes and ripped the phone from his hands like a middle school bully. He glanced down at the screen, eyes catching her name and a horrible grey text to blue text ratio.
“Dude, are you triple texting a girl with a boyfriend?”
He shoved the phone back to Jake who then placed it in his back pocket with a scowl.
“I’m worried about you.”
“We’re friends.”
“You got friendzoned by a girl you tried to hit on at a club,” Charlie pointed out. “Where did you go wrong?”
“I talked to her.”
“Is she coming tonight?” he asked, deciding to use mercy rules on his love-struck friend.
“Yep,” Jake answered, avoiding eye contact with Charlie. It didn’t go unnoticed by McAvoy and he was waiting for Jake to drop whatever bomb was coming. “I think she might be bringing her boyfriend.”
“What?”
“It’s my fault,” Jake said. “I told her she could bring him if she wanted to.”
“Why would you do that?”
“She wanted to be here to celebrate us clinching a playoff spot. And I really wanted to see her, but she also had dinner plans with him. So, I told her to bring him with her after dinner.”
“I don’t want that prick in my apartment.”
Although Charlie thought Jake’s crush was ridiculous, he started to become a little protective of her over the last two months. He was always hearing all the crazy stories about her boyfriend and how shitty he was to her. It made Charlie itch.
He’d been around Sutton a few times since he saw her at happy hour, mostly at Jake’s apartment and in passing. She spent some time there on the weekdays, when Charlie assumed Garrett was at work. She was always making sweets for Jake (he claimed it was because she was stressed, though Charlie thought it was something more than that). When she noticed that Charlie would steal half of them each time, she started leaving him a bag of goodies too.
Other than those few occurrences, Jake was mostly talking his ear off about the times they could grab lunch or drinks. And, though he was still completely head-over-heels for her, the relationship between the two of them seemed to shift to a more platonic type. Forget the constant flirting and you just had two best friends.
“I don’t want him here either,” Jake grumbled. “But I want her, so we’ll just have to deal.”
Truth be told, Jake had gotten better at just being her friend. She stopped telling him all the shitty stuff that Garrett did to her. Instead, they talked about work and the things they would do when they finally got time off. Even Kate and Mia stopped telling him when Sutton and Garrett fought.
It was a step in the right direction, but he still knew things weren’t going right. He could tell by the way she filled his counter with baked goods and picked out the sappy rom coms on movie nights. Both were becoming a daily occurrence, but Jake kept his mouth shut. 
He kept checking his phone for a sign of life from Sutton. Dinner with Garrett was at 6:30 p.m. 10:30 p.m. came around and his phone was still dry.
He hated himself for being so hung up on it because she was out with her boyfriend! Maybe they were having a great time, maybe for once in their relationship Garrett was doing the right thing and she was happy, maybe they’d gone back to his place… Jake shook off the traitorous thought.
He spent the night bouncing from group to group until Charlie pulled him into a conversation with some of his girlfriend’s friends. It was obvious, from the look in Charlie’s eyes, that this was a set up in progress. And, for the first time in a long time, Jake let it happen.
He talked to the girl in front of him, a small brunette with big brown eyes, for what seemed like hours. And not in a good way. He wondered if maybe she was being so boring to get him to kiss her, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to kiss her because he didn’t want to kiss anyone but Sutton.
Jake sighed, lifting his hand to the girls forearm to say, “It was really nice to meet you, but I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”
She looked at him like he punched her in the gut.
When he got to the bathroom, he peed and then stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit too long. He wasn’t even drunk. He just needed to have a moment with himself. Finally, when he felt centered, he leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on his face before slipping out to the hallway once more.
“Jake!”
The sound of Sutton’s voice echoed off the walls of the hallway and set him off kilter once again. She bounded forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, effectively turning him to putty in her hands.
“Hi,” she greeted. She hung on him a little more than she usually did. Jake gazed down at her, thinking she looked a little bit like an angel with her hair pinned back like that.
His lips turned up into a small smile as he pressed a kiss against her forehead and murmured, “Hey.”
Mia turned down the hallway at that moment and let out a large exhale.
“Oh, good,” she huffed out. “She found you.”
Kate bumped into Mia from behind, apparently also in search of the sweet girl in his arms.
“She found him!”
“I found him!” Sutton exclaimed, clapping her hands over Jake’s cheeks as she looked up at him.
“You found me,” he responded with a soft laugh. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then glanced up at her roommates over her shoulder with a concerned look.
Kate came forward, wrapping her arms around Sutton’s waist to pull her from Jake.
“Come to the bathroom with me?”
“Sure, lovebug!” Sutton exclaimed. She turned back to look at Jake and planted a kiss right on his lips so quickly that he didn’t even get a chance to close his eyes, pucker his lips, or savor the moment. With a shocked gasp, Kate pulled Sutton away to the bathroom down the hall.
Jake’s eyes widened when he looked back at Mia.
“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, reaching up to brush his fingers along the tingling on his lip.
“She thinks Garrett is cheating on her.”
“Weren’t they supposed to be at dinner tonight?”
“He didn’t show, so she checked his location,” Mia explained. “He’s at a coworker’s house. Apparently, it’s been happening for a while and she didn’t care to tell us until tonight.”
Jake couldn’t decide what he was feeling. He was simultaneously pissed off at Garrett for being a dickhead, and Sutton for kissing him in that moment, and himself for feeling butterflies.
“She ended up eating dinner at the bar of the restaurant by herself and came back to our place bombed,” Mia continued. “We tried to get her in bed, but she insisted on seeing you. So, here we are.”
“She can’t stay.”
“We know that,” she said. “But she won’t leave with just us.”
The two of them exchanged a knowing look before the door down the hall swung open and Sutton stepped out, pulling Kate along with her. Jake stuffed down his frustration towards her and walked over with a smile to pick her up in a hug. She giggled and pressed her forehead against his.
“Let’s go home, yeah?”
“I just got here!”
“Yeah, but I’d much rather be at your place right now.”
Sutton pouted. Jake pouted back. And then she was smiling again.
+
Charlie stopped Jake before he slipped out the door behind the girls. His fingers curled into his teammate’s bicep way harder than necessary. Jake winced beneath his grasp.
“You need to sort this Sutton situation out,” he spoke. “I saw her plant one on you.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with her.”
“You are going to let this girl rip your heart out if you don’t set some boundaries,” Charlie barked. “I know you love her and I know deep down she’s not a shitty person, but I think she needs to figure her shit out on her own. You need to stop trying to fix everything for her.”
The ride back to Sutton’s apartment was silent. Charlie’s words echoed in his head as he slipped into the back of the car with Sutton right behind. She kicked her legs up over his lap and snuggled into his chest. Knowing nothing would get solved with her this drunk, he sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into him.
He couldn’t believe she just kissed him like that, especially because she thought Garrett might’ve been doing the same thing across the city. It felt like he was a pawn in her little game, and he hated that because Sutton was better than that. At least he thought so.
Soft snores fell from her lips moments after they pulled away from the apartment building. Without thinking, he began to massage the top of her head. Kate watched with a fond smile on her face.
Jake carried her up to the apartment, stirring her from sleep only as he placed her on her bed.
“Jake,” she murmured. He knelt beside her and started to unclasp the heels she was wearing.
“Sutton.”
“Thank you.”
He hummed, picking up the shoes to place them by her closet door.
“Come to the bathroom,” he urged, extending his hand to her. “We’ll get that make up off. You can brush your teeth.” He turned away from her once she was standing and smirked. “Maybe even throw up if you feel so inclined.”
Sutton hit him lightly on the back, a giggle falling from his lips at the teasing.
Jake rummaged through the cabinets in search of her make up wipes while she sat atop the counter and brushed her teeth. After rinsing, she watched him with tired eyes as he moved to stand between her legs.
He cupped the back of her neck to hold her head steady while he removed her makeup and tried not to think about the way that she was looking at him, or how she melted into his touch the moment he held her. Her eyes fluttered shut for him to get off her eye makeup. When they opened again, their eyes met in a steady, loving gaze.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Sutton,” he murmured. He stepped back and opened the bathroom door once more to usher her out. She did as she was told and retreated to her room to crawl into bed. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water and pain killers. He placed them on her bedside table.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Jake sat down beside her and she reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. He leaned against her palm as her thumb stroked his cheekbone.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he responded. Her eyes began to well up. “You’re working yourself up. Don’t do that. We’ll be fine, okay?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled. Jake placed a kiss against her forehead before turning to leave. He stopped at the door and looked back at her as she settled beneath the comforter and snuggled the pillow beneath her head.
“Call me when you get up.”
+
Sutton didn’t call by 10 a.m. the next morning, so Jake swung by to check on her. Mia let him in and informed him that she still wasn’t awake. He walked down the hall anyway, stopping just beyond the threshold of her door before pushing it open to find her sprawled out with her face mushed into the pillow. He took a few silent steps towards her bed and sat at the edge of it before lightly shaking her awake.
She woke with a start, the touch of Jake’s hand against her ankle shocking her enough to sit up right.
“Ouch,” she grumbled, squinting her eyes at the light filtering in from the window as she brought a hand to her head to stop the throbbing. Jake sprung up to shut the blinds. “Thank you.”
“I thought you’d be awake already,” he said, standing in front of the remaining rays of light coming through the window. “Get up. Let’s get breakfast.”
Jake was beyond anxious as they walked to her local diner. He wondered if she could tell that he was off or if she even remembered what happened. The way that she was talking, so nonchalant and unbothered, gave him the impression that she had no clue what damage she’d done last night.
“I honestly don’t remember getting to Charlie’s last night,” she admitted as they sat in a booth beside the window. “I remember seeing you in bits and pieces.”
“Really? Do you remember that I put you to bed?”
“Oh, Jake.” She dropped her head into her palms as she shook her head in disappointment at herself. He tried to hide the frown on his lips by turning his attention to the coffee in front of him. He ripped open a sugar packet and dumped it into the mug as Sutton grumbled about how sorry she was.
She continued talking, but Jake was finding it hard to listen. How could she act like nothing was wrong when it felt like the weight of his whole world was crushing him?
“When are you gonna tell me about your dinner with Garrett?” he blurted out as he finally met her eyes again. Her mouth snapped shut and realization set in that he wasn’t the happy-go-lucky Jake she thought she was grabbing breakfast with. He was not happy.
“He didn’t show up. He had something work related to take care of.”
“At his coworker’s house?”
“How do—”
“Mia filled me in when you showed up at Charlie’s,” he answered. “You were already plastered when you got to the party.” He paused. “Why didn’t you call me when he didn’t show?”
“Because it’s not your job to pick up the pieces every time he fucks up.”
“Then who will? Yourself? Because you did a pretty shitty job of it last night,” he spat. Sutton sat back against the vinyl seat behind her, shocked at his outburst. He paused, inhaling deeply before dropping the bomb. “You kissed me. Do you remember that, Sutton?”
Her jaw dropped and a hand came up to clasp over her mouth in shock as she mumbled out an apology that Jake didn’t want to hear.
“I like you, Sutton. I like being around you and talking to you. But, you drew a line months ago… A line that I’ve stopped trying to cross. And then you just kissed me, like there’d be no consequences.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“But you did. And this morning you still woke up as his girlfriend, and you will tomorrow morning too. So, all I’m asking is that you figure your shit out with him and you don’t drag me into it. You can’t just kiss me because you think he also might be kissing someone else. That’s not fair. You wanted friends, so I gave you friends.”
As if by some divine intervention, their meals came at that moment and the conversation was dropped immediately. When they reached the front door of Sutton’s apartment, Jake didn’t try to come in like he usually did on hungover Sunday mornings. Instead, he stopped at the door.
“Sutton, I’m saying this to you as your friend and nothing more,” he started. “I can’t be around you until you figure your shit out. I’m tired of being your second choice. You have to figure out your worth and I can’t hold your hand until you get there. It’s driving me crazy.”
She stared up at him, eyes welling up with tears, and realized that the best thing in her life was about to walk away. A rogue tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly hoping that he wouldn’t notice. He did, though, he always did.
He pulled her into his arms, engulfing her in an embrace despite the conversation at hand. She stayed still for a moment, rigid even, until she heard Jake let out a shuddering breath into the crook of her neck. Only then did she reciprocate the hug, arms wrapping around his neck like he was her anchor.
---
May 17th, 2019
Sutton didn’t know what she expected to see when she walked into the club, but it definitely wasn’t Jake dancing on a table in the VIP section. She watched as Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to solid ground, unable to peel her eyes off the boy who’d become a stranger.
“Did you see him?” she asked Mia.
“I don’t think there’s a single person at this club that didn’t.”
When they reached a table, she glanced back in his direction, but the crowd had grown so thick that she couldn’t find him. Kate, who’d already made a beeline for the bar, found them moments later with drinks in hand. She handed one to each of the girls. She took one glance at Sutton and asked, “What’s the face for?”
“In true Sutton Beckett fashion, Jake was the first thing she saw when we walked in here.”
“Jake’s here?”
“Why do you think we’re here, Kate?” Mia asked. Sutton looked at her with a slight panic to her expression. Mia raised her eyebrows at her with a smirk. “Yeah, I know all your tricks.”
“He posted it on his Instagram story, okay?”
Kate dropped her face into her palms, grumbling, “Why won’t you just call him like a normal person?”
“I’m planning to,” she said defensively. Mia hummed in disagreement. “What? I will! Eventually. Like at the end of the season probably.” The girls groaned at that answer. “I don’t even know if he wants to talk to me. He said he didn’t wanna be around until I figured my shit out.”
“Yeah, and you broke up with Garrett two months ago!” Kate exclaimed while Mia grunted, “You like sabotaging yourself, don’t you?”
“You both suck.”
After Jake left that morning, Sutton felt like she cried forever. The door shut behind him and she sank down to the floor and sobbed. Mia and Kate came to her rescue immediately. They listened to her when she wanted to talk about it and, finally, helped her cleanse the apartment of all traces of Garrett. Mia even went as far as purchasing sage to burn. They packed his things into a box and placed it on the floor beside the door with plans to drop it off to him the next day.
When Sutton called him to end it and let him know she was dropping his shit off, he didn’t pick up. It continued for another two days before Kate and Mia were tugging her out to the streets in pursuit of his office building. She ultimately found him flirting with the receptionist in his office and dropped the box to the floor. She kicked it over to him, sending the contents flying.
“Go fuck yourself, Garrett.”
“I never liked you,” Mia echoed. Sutton marched toward the exit, ignoring the protests coming from her scumbag ex’s mouth. She grabbed the girls’ arms and dragged them out with her. “Fuck you, Garrett!”
Sutton didn’t cry over Garrett, but she did cry over Jake. She would be crazy not to.
As she drained her first drink of the night, Sutton couldn’t help but search the bar for Jake and his teammates. She didn’t want to be surprised by him because, truthfully, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him.
“I honestly don’t know why we even came here,” she muttered, chewing on one of the ice cubes from her cup. “We should leave.”
“We’re not leaving,” Mia barked. “We came here for a reason, whether you think so or not, and you’re going to get what you came for.”
Sutton glared at her, Mia glared back, and Kate watched in amusement until Sutton finally gave in. She grabbed her drink and knocked it back in one swift movement before standing.
“I’m going to get another.”
The girls cheered as she stepped away from them and began to nudge her way through the crowd. She found a break in congestion a few steps ahead. But, just as she was about to slip in, a solid body stepped in front of her. She was about to apologize when she glanced up to see Charlie McAvoy.
His eyes blew wide when he saw her. He was convinced that he was seeing things, but he knew there was no way he was drunk enough for that. He reached out, setting a hand tentatively against her forearm and she waited patiently for him to snap back to reality.
“Does Jake know you’re here?” he asked, eyes searching the area around them frantically. She shook her head, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. He looked back at her. “Why haven’t you called?” Before she could answer, he frowned. “You haven’t broken up with that asshole.”
“I did.”
“Then, why haven’t you called him?”
“We didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms,” she said. Charlie rolled his eyes, shoving Sutton lightly towards the bar. She ordered, he ordered, and he scolded her when she tried to pay for her own drink. Then, he tugged her off towards the VIP section.
Jake saw Charlie first and flung himself out of the booth to swipe his new drink from his hands. And then he saw Sutton over his shoulder and his face dropped. Charlie slipped away, leaving the two face-to-face. He squinted at her, like he was trying to process the image in front of him.
“When did you break up with him?”
“A few days after we argued,” she said. He stilled, mind racing as he tried to figure out the timeline.
“Sutton, you’ve been single for two months and you haven’t called?”
“I was scared.”
“Would you have even called me if you hadn’t seen me tonight? Or would I still be wondering?”
“Of course not,” she defended herself. “I was going to tell you at the end of the season.”
He looked uncertain for a moment, but then his features softened and he wrapped his arms around her. He ducked so that his head was in the crook of your neck. She could feel the soft sigh that left his lips against her skin.
“I miss you.”
Sutton relaxed against him, relieved that he didn’t seem angry at her in the moment. They stood there for a moment, ignoring the hooting and hollering from his teammates at the booth. When he pulled away, he gazed down at her adoringly. “You look beautiful.”
“You look happy,” she said. She ran her fingers through his hair, playing into his sweetness despite her better judgement.
“Are you happy?” he asked, face suddenly serious. She nodded, corners of her lips turning up at his question. His eyes searched her face. “I’m proud of you.”
Before either of them could say anything more, Charlie’s girlfriend appeared with a tray of shots and they were swept up into a crowd of his teammates and their plus-ones, all reaching for shots for themselves.
Sutton stepped backwards to make space and ended up stumbling over Jake’s feet, her back bumping into his chest. Instead of stepping away, drunk Jake dropped a hand to her hip to steady her. He was tingly all over, liquor coursing through him, and when he felt her relax into his touch, he allowed himself to wrap his arm around her stomach to hold her instead. She leaned into him happily.
Someone called out a toast and everyone tossed their shots back with a mixture of grunts and exclamations at the taste. The group dispersed after and, though Jake dropped his arm from around her, he placed his hand in hers moments later to search the bar for Kate and Mia.
The look at their faces when they saw Sutton and Jake hand in hand was comical. They were practically bursting at the seams with excitement and hopped out of the booth to embrace the two in a hug.
“We missed you!” Mia all but yelled in Jake’s face. His drunken giggles got the best of him then, squeezing her a little tighter in response.
+
Unlike the first time they danced together at a club, Jake wasted no time in grinding up against her. His arms wrapped around her waist and her fingers followed, trailing along his arms until she could curl her fingers between his.
When she turned to face him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His fingers danced along the skin of her back and he smiled when he noticed the goosebumps on her arms. He leaned in just enough to speak lowly into her ear, lips just inches away. “Sleep over tonight.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jake,” she said. When he pouted, she reached up and thumbed his bottom lip with a smirk. “You’re too drunk for a sleepover, I think, but I’ll get you home like you did for me.”
“Like the night you kissed me?” he asked with a teasing smile. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He chuckled softly, tilting his head to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear, “I’m ready to go when you are.”
During the fifteen-minute cab drive to Jake’s apartment, he just seemed to just get drunker. He was giggly, chatty, and clingy. His fingers danced along Sutton’s calves, which he’d pulled onto his lap the minute they pulled away from the club. She watched him engage their driver in mindless conversation, smiling softly to herself every time he said something stupid and giggled at himself.
When they pulled up to his building, Jake paid and left the guy behind the wheel a fat tip. Then, he was pulling Sutton out of the car and into the lobby. He wrapped his arms around Sutton’s shoulders and pulled her against his chest as they waited for the elevator.
The doors opened with a ding and Sutton slipped to the corner while Jake pressed the button to his floor. He swayed uneasily on his feet as the elevator jolted upwards. She reached out to steady him, just a soft touch of her hand against his bicep. He turned with a smile.
“Sutton, Sutton, Sutton.”
“What?”
He stepped forward, boxing her into the corner of the elevator. She gazed up at him, finding it hard to breathe as he got closer. He rested his hands against the rail on either side of him and smiled.
“I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he whispered. She leaned away from him slightly, a frown developing as she did so. And though she was hesitant, her heart was hammering in her chest, begging her to attach her lips to his.
“You’re drunk.”
“Sure, but what does that matter?”
“We can’t just do this whenever one of us can’t handle our liquor,” she murmured. His face dropped. “It makes it difficult to tell if we mean it.”
“Trust me, I mean it,” he told her. “I want to kiss you when we’re sober as fuck eating leftovers on your kitchen floor; I want to kiss you when I’m hammered and can barely keep my hands off you.”
The elevator doors opened and Sutton, desperate to move on from this conversation, pushed him out of the car and down the hall.
The moment they entered the apartment, he went to his room to change and returned with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for her. He watched her happily from his perch on the counter as she walked about the kitchen in his clothes. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her, touch her.
“Drink this,” she said, handing a glass of water over to him. She leaned up against the counter across form him. “You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”
“That’s why you should stay over,” he said. “You can nurse me back to health tomorrow morning.”
“Not gonna happen, DeBrusk.”
“Was worth a try,” he slurred. Sutton laughed at the rise and fall of his shoulders as he shrugged before chugging the water from his cup. After dropping the cup in the sink, he turned back and shook his head at her in amusement.
“What?”
“I’ve just missed you,” he told her. He took a few steps toward her before dropping his hands to counter on either side of her and leaned in. He was intoxicating. The smile on his face made her weak in the knees, but she couldn’t just act like there hadn’t been a fight and two months of silence between them.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said. “We should really talk when you’re sober.”
“Let’s just talk now.”
“I’m not going to count this as a conversation.”
“Why not?”
“Because what if you don’t remember?”
Jake’s eyes studied her face and he realized the seriousness of her question. He leaned away then and sighed out, “Okay.”
“Let’s get you to bed, drunkie,” she murmured. She slipped past him, fingers catching on his wrist to tug him along. They stopped in the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and he wouldn’t stop glancing at her the entire way through the rest of his nightly routine as if he was worried she might disappear into thin air.
When they got back into his room, he picked her up and dropped her onto his bed.
“Jake!”
“Just stay for a little bit longer,” he whined. She rolled her eyes, laughter falling easily from her lips as he rolled off her to change into pajamas. He boldly dropped his pants and glanced over his shoulder just to see if she was looking, chuckling to himself when he saw her with her hands over her eyes.
He dropped onto the bed and hovered over her, grin on his face.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, slur in his voice still evident. She raised her eyebrows and pressed her hands against his chest to create some distance between them. “I want to be your boyfriend.”
“Jake,” she whispered. “You’re hammered!”
“Yeah, and I still want to be your boyfriend when I’m sober.”
“I told you I didn’t want to have this conversation right now,” she groaned. He dropped to the side of her and propped himself up on his elbow. “If you really mean it, I need you to tell me when you’re not drunk.”
“I will,” he said. “I promise.”
---
June 12th, 2019
They didn’t talk to anytime soon, and Sutton kept trying to convince herself that it was because he was in the Stanley Cup finals so he was busy, not because he regretted everything he said when he was drunk. But, as time went on, she felt more and more defeated. She waited patiently, though, hoping that she’d get some sort of closure at the end of the season.
She watched the entire series against the St. Louis Blues at the edge of her seat. Game seven had ripped her heart out, like many others in the city, but her first thought went to Jake. She almost felt sick to her stomach thinking about it.
Vice versa, the first person Jake thought about when he left the ice was Sutton. He thought about her through each post-game interview and his post-game routine, and as soon as he was in the parking garage he was texting her.
Did you watch?
He dropped his forehead against the wheel and waited for a response. He wasn’t even positive there’d be one after the shit he pulled at the bar and the silence that followed.
There’s a key under my welcome mat
He started the car immediately and drove in complete silence to Sutton’s apartment. He rushed upstairs, eager to fall into her bed. When he lifted the welcome mat, he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the key and opened the door. He placed his bag down and kicked off his shoes before locking up behind him and heading off to her room.
When he opened the door, the light from the hallway filtered in and stirred her awake. She leaned up on her elbow and murmured, “I pulled out a toothbrush for you and there are sweats and a t-shirt you can wear at the end of the bed.”
He smiled softly, grabbing the clothes from the bed and turning to go brush his teeth. When he returned, she was leaning up against the headboard waiting for him.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Jake shuffled up towards the headboard of her bed just enough to drop his head to her stomach. A shuddering breath fell from his parted lips as he shook his head that indicated no, he was not okay. She curled her fingers into his hair and leaned down to place a kiss against the top of his head. His arms wrapped around her and the weight of the world disappeared, if only for a second. “I’m proud of you.”
+
When Sutton woke up the next morning, Jake was gone and her stomach dropped. She moved slowly out of bed and then, as panic set in, she quickened her steps through the apartment. The sound of the kitchen cabinets opening and closing greeted her. And when she reached the kitchen so did Jake’s tired smile.
“Good morning,” he said. She watched his cheeks turn pink and felt hers do the same. He motioned to the pan on the stove. “I started making breakfast.”
“I see that.”
“Coffee?”
“I’ll make it,” she offered, walking past Jake to the coffee maker on the other end of the counter. She didn’t catch Jake watching, didn’t feel his eyes wander along her body. She almost caught him when she turned to ask how he took his coffee, but he was quick to divert his eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call after the night at the club,” he said suddenly. “Or text.”
Sutton continued for him, feeling the anger she’d built up over the past few weeks begin to boil over. “Or Snapchat. Or really do anything to assure me that things were okay between us.”
Jake frowned, turning his attention back to the eggs on the stovetop. They continued putting breakfast together in silence and reconvened at the kitchen table when the coffee was done and the eggs and toast were plated.
“I mean, you weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to tell me that you weren’t with Garrett anymore,” Jake argued. She sighed, fork clattering to her plate as she leaned back in her seat.
“You told me you didn’t want to talk until I had all my shit together!”
“And do you not?”
“I have no idea!” she exclaimed. “I wanted to call you the moment that I broke up with him. It was my first thought, but then I stopped myself because I thought of how unfair that would be to myself.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t been just Sutton in three years, Jake,” she said. “I’ve been Garrett’s doting girlfriend for three years. Everything I did, I did with him in mind.” She paused. “Then you come along, and suddenly I’m thinking about you, too. For once, I want to just think about myself.”
She continued, “I don’t even know myself. I feel like I’m rediscovering these parts of me that I haven’t thought about in years. I’ve been doing things to make me happy and I’ve been applying to new jobs because I want something more for myself and I finally feel motivated to fight for it. I feel different.”
He felt warm all over, buzzing from the inside out. He didn’t realize how much it would mean to him to hear her say that she was finally fighting for herself. Hearing her explain how she was feeling overwhelmed him with a sense of pride, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile at her.
“I guess that’s a good enough reason not to call,” Jake resigned.
“Why haven’t you called?”
“Because I was scared of what I might find out,” he answered. “That you were still with him.” He paused and then shook his head. “And I didn’t call after the club because I couldn’t remember any of the things I said and I was worried that I did something stupid.”
“You don’t remember?” she asked, her fears coming true.
“Not much.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.”
He was lying. He remembered every moment of that night spent with her. The image of her in his t-shirt swallowing her whole, the look on her face when he told her how he felt, the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks. How could he forget it?
Mia entered the room then, cutting the conversation off before it could go anywhere else.
 “Ooo! You made bacon!” she exclaimed, snatching a strip from the plate at the center of the table. Her eyes cut from Sutton’s face to Jake’s and she smiled at the sight. “Happy to have you back, Jake.”
---
June 15th, 2019
Three days after the game seven loss, Jake was still feeling the heartbreak of it. He wondered if there would be a day that he didn’t. He spent a lot of time in his apartment, ordering Postmates for food to be dropped at his door so he didn’t have to see anyone he didn’t want to. The only time he’d left was for locker clean-out.
He saw Sutton every day and, though the visits were welcomed, he realized as they sat on the couch and watched shit reality shows that there was still a lot to be said.
He wanted to tell her how he felt about her again, but he kept his mouth shut. Friendship with Sutton was something he’d gotten used to, and he could continue living like this for now. Besides, he’d be leaving Boston soon and he didn’t want to start something that he couldn’t commit all his time to. She deserved to be the center of his world.
On the morning of the fifteenth, Sutton picked him up to drive him to the airport feeling like shit. It had been weeks since they saw each other at the bar, which meant weeks since he admitted his feelings and nothing had been said about it. He said he didn’t remember much, but she wondered if he really did and was just regretting what had been said.
Conversation on the way to the airport was mundane. He talked about all the things he was excited to do at home, like seeing his family and friends, and asked about what she’d do while he was gone, and she sighed heavily before answering, “Work.”
After she parked the car at the curb of the terminal, she reached over for the handle of the door, but Jake grabbed her other wrist to get her attention.
“I lied to you,” he blurted out. “I remember everything I said to you after the club. I wasn’t going to say anything because I love that you’re just being Sutton right now. But, I also don’t want to leave Boston without telling you how I feel.”
“Fuck you!” she exclaimed after releasing long sigh. He started laughing and stepped out of the car. She scrambled after him towards the trunk to grab his things. He was grinning ear-to-ear. “I thought you didn’t remember or you regretted it!”
“You’re crazy to think I’d ever regret you,” he said, fingers coming up to brush her cheekbone. Sutton blushed hard. “Seriously.”
“Your timing is shit,” she said. Jake curled his arm around her shoulders and embraced her. “Why would you admit your feelings and then fly off to Canada? That’s bullshit.”
“I don’t want you revolving your life around us right now,” he said. He pulled back and pressed his lips to her forehead, even though he desperately wanted to kiss her lips. Then, he pulled away completely. “You have three months to just be you, but then I’m coming back for you.”
---
September 1st, 2019
Jake and Sutton were both shaking like leafs as they made their way to each other on the morning of September 1st, him on the plane, her in her car on the way to pick him up. The summer was full of fresh starts. For Sutton, she ended up in a new position with a corner office at work. Jake had the summer to reset, spend time with his family, and relax.
Together, it was a fresh start to their relationship and more time to get to know each other.
Although they weren’t officially together, they talked on the phone at least once a week, but usually more. They flirted with the idea of the future through conversations about dates they’d go on when he got back and movies they needed to watch together. It felt like all the pieces of the puzzle were finally together, all Jake needed to do was come back to Boston.
And he was finally home.
Sutton stood beside her car as she waited for him to emerge from baggage claim. Her hands were shaking and her stomach felt sick, but the moment she saw him, it all went away. She sprinted over and threw herself into his open arms, giggling as his bags hit the pavement.
He wrapped his arms around her so tightly he thought she might snap in half. Then, she looked up at him, wide smile on her face, and all he could ask was, “Can I please kiss you like I’ve been wanted to all summer?”
“I might die if you don’t.”
And then the world fell away and it was just Jake and Sutton, finally kissing on purpose.
+
“Where are we going?”
“Stop asking questions!”
Sutton knew exactly where he was taking her, but she was hoping the question would make him rethink it. The door just before the stairs had ROOF ACCESS stamped across it.
“Won’t we get into trouble?”
Jake paused then, turning to answer, “Of course not. I slipped the security guards $50 to let us up here.”
Sutton laughed loudly at that and allowed him to continue tugging her along.
After picking him up at the airport, they spent the day re-exploring Boston. They walked in parks and talked on benches for hours on end, like they hadn’t spoken all summer, and then Sutton brought him to her office building to show off her new office. He kissed her in front of her desk and congratulated her for the hundredth time before whisking her off to dinner reservations he’d made a few weeks prior. By the time dinner ended, the two of them were drunk on each other, giggling and dancing down the streets to his apartment.
Jake pushed the door to the roof open and stepped out, tugging Sutton along with him towards the edge of the roof. She laced her fingers through his and followed happily. When he slowed to a stop, she halted beside him, resting her cheek against his arm. The city was alive beneath them, lights shining on them like a spotlight.
“I’ve always wanted to bring you up here,” he spoke, glancing down at her. She was already looking up at him, soft smile playing on her lips. “But I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring you up here if we were ‘just friends.’”
“We were never really just friends, huh?”
“Not at all,” he answered with a laugh. “You were delusional.”
That moment felt so poignant to Sutton, like it was the moment that was going to change everything. She turned to fold into his chest and his arms curled around her, filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Do you want this, Sutton?” he asked, voice just above a whisper. She looked up at him, eyes searching his face, falling to his lips as he spoke his next words. “Do you want to be with me?”
“More than anything.”
---
October 18th, 2019
“He’s going to pass out when he sees you.”
“God, I hope not,” Sutton murmured, fingers still covering the small smile on her lips as she gazed at herself in the lingerie she was modeling for her roommates. Her eyes cut back to the two of them. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Not at all,” Mia said. Kate shook her head, eyes still taking in all the little bows and lace on the set. She sighed suddenly and grunted, “Now you’re making me want to buy lingerie. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
Sutton snorted before turning back to her reflection to admire herself once more.
They’d officially been dating a little over a month and it was a dream. It was fun to get to know each other in a different, more intimate way and little by little all the walls were being broken down between them, not that there were too many to begin with.
Jake’s 23rd birthday was October 17th, but because he had a game, they couldn’t celebrate the way they’d been planning to. Fortunately, his next two days were free, so Sutton booked a stay at an Airbnb in Cape Cod.
She was all nerves and anxiety leading up to the trip, simply because of the mounting pressure that came with not having had sex with him yet. They’d spent the past month exploring each other with their hands and their mouths, but it was never taken any farther than that.
Only twice had they gotten close to it.
The first occurrence was about a week after the season started. He’d been away on a four-game road trip and by the time he got home, he was exhausted. Sutton was waiting for him when he got home the next afternoon and he collapsed into her arms on the couch until he was ready to cleanse himself of the remnants of loss and airplane germs.
“Come shower with me.”
“Jake,” she murmured hesitantly, threading her fingers through his hair.
“C’mon,” he whined through a pout. “I missed you.”
“Fine.”
She followed him to his room and popped her phone onto the charger while he stripped himself of his clothes. His hands found their way around her waist, sliding underneath her sweatshirt to pull it over her head. When Sutton turned to face him, he captured her lips with his and she moaned against his lips happily.
He shed her of her clothes as they kissed slowly, but as soon as she was standing naked in front of him, she pushed him towards the bathroom, too nervous for what could come next, unsure if she was even ready to go there.
Jake held her close beneath the warmth of the water, fingers traveling along her spine, into her hair, gripping her ass. Her hands were just the same, feeling his every muscle constrict beneath her touch, listening to him shudder when her hands traveled below his hips. He was hard against her lower abdomen,
“I’m not ready,” she blurted out. The second the words were out in the open she was clasping her hands over her mouth. Jake took a step back, his hands falling from her skin to his sides.
“Ready for what?”
“Sex.”
“Okay, that’s okay,” he murmured, placing another soft kiss against her lips. “I can wait.”
The second time was after a night spent with Charlie and his girlfriend, drinking wine and watching shitty movies. She was going to spend the night at Jake’s anyway, so when they got back to his apartment, they got ready for bed and cuddled up under the covers together—him in a pair of boxers, her in underwear and a t-shirt of his. She woke up in the middle of the night with Jake wrapped around her, his erection against her ass. As she pulled his arms tighter to her, he stirred and rutted his hips against her. 
“Sleeping with you is so hard.”
“Why? Cause you’re always hard?” she asked with a laugh. He hummed affirmatively, pressing into her a bit more. She turned around and kissed him softly. His eyes fluttered open at the feather light touch of her lips, and then he was on her, kissing her while his hands gripped her ass. In seconds, he had her on top of him, straddling his lap.
“You’re so wet right now,” he murmured as she rubbed against his bulge. Sutton was thankful for the veil of darkness in his room because she was bright red and flustered. He gripped her hips and guided her hips. “C’mon, use me, baby.”
She began to grind against him as they made out and he kept her hips down, rutting up into her to help her towards orgasm. It didn’t take long, the friction against her clit had her breathing heavily into the crook of his neck in no time and as her orgasm washed over her, he helped her through it by continuing to guide her hips against him.
“Fuck,” she sighed, and he laughed gently, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” he spoke. “That was hot.”
And that was the extent of it. But now, he was turning another year older and she wanted to give him a gift to remember.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted as soon as Sutton opened the apartment door. He swept her up into a hug and kissed her full on the mouth while Mia and Kate aww’d behind them. “Hey, ladies.”
“Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, thank you,” he responded before placing one more kiss on Sutton’s lips. They detached from each other long enough for Jake to grab Sutton’s overnight bag. “Are you ready to go? I’ve been itching to get out of this city with you.”
Jake led her to the car, hand-in-hand, chattering on about the game he played the night before and Sutton hung on his every word, like she always did. He loaded her things into the trunk beside his and slid into the driver’s seat, handing the aux over to her—the only person he ever let control the music in his car.
As soon as they pulled onto the highway, Sutton blurted, “I want to have sex with you.”
“Yeah? I want to have sex with you, too,” he responded, goofy smile playing at his lips. His eyes were still trained on the road, like she hadn’t just divulged this important information to him. She laughed softly and reached out to take his free hand.
“No, like tonight,” she said. He looked over at her with wide eyes. “Eyes on the road.”
“You can’t say something like that and expect me to pay attention to much else,” he grunted, though he was now grinning from ear-to-ear. He squeezed her hand lightly. “Are you serious? You want to?”
“Yes.”
“Birthday sex,” he murmured, chuckling at himself. She laughed with him and shoved his hand away playfully only for him to drop it to her thigh, a little higher than usual, and hit the gas.
+
Jake was a pest at dinner.
Even though they’d been seated at a table across from each other, he pulled his chair around to sit beside her. His hand rested against her thigh the entire time, fingers gripping every once in a while to get a rise out of her.
When asked if they wanted a dessert menu, Jake was quick to turn it down.
“No, I think we’re alright,” he answered. Sutton turned to protest, it was his birthday after all, and he’d probably get a free dessert, but he shook his head at her. “Thank you, though. Everything was delicious.”
“You don’t want dessert?” Sutton asked as soon as the waitress stepped away.
Jake smiled and leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “You’re my dessert, Sutt.”
The ride back to the Airbnb felt way too long and the anticipation of the night ahead had Jake buzzing from the moment they got into the car after dinner to the moment he was sitting in a chair in the living room, waiting for her.
“You can’t touch!” she called from behind the bedroom door. His eyes were locked on it, carefully watching the handle so he could prepare himself.
“Sutton, you’re evil.”
“Promise me!”
“I promise, baby. Come on.”
She pulled the door open and his eyes drank her in. Then, her robe fell to the floor and he released a shaky breath. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he braced his hands together to keep himself from touching her.
“Sutton, I don’t know how you expect me to keep myself from touching you when you’re wearing that.”
“Do you want your birthday gift or not?”
“I really fucking want my birthday gift.”
“Then, you’ll find a way to keep your hands to yourself.”
Jake leaned back against the chair with a frustrated sigh, eyes still glued to the lace clinging to her body. He swallowed thickly as his eyes trailed over her chest, landing on the little bow between her breasts before meeting her eyes again.
In the sweetest voice, he murmured, “You’re so pretty.”
A blush crept up her cheeks, smile betraying the seductive front she was trying to show, and she sighed, “How am I supposed to act sexy when you’re making me blush like this?”
“You’re always sexy,” he spoke, voice low again. “You don’t need to act.”
She walked over to him, shaking her head when he reached for her again, and straddled his lap, fingers threading through his hair as he gazed up at her. His hands hung limp on either side of him and his fingers twitched as she grinded against his bulge.
“This is so unfair,” he grunted. She kissed his neck, sucking a mark into it as she continued to rub against him. “Who knew you were such a tease?”
“Who knew you were so chatty?”
“Shut me up then,” he challenged with a cocky smirk. Sutton rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her lips from curling into a smirk as well. She sunk down to her knees, pushing his thighs open before fumbling with his belt and his eyes watched her hungrily. He lifted himself from the chair and let her pull them down, leaving him in just his boxers.
“Take your shirt off.”
He threw it off eagerly, tossing it over her shoulder to the other side of the room.
Sutton flattened her hands against his chest and ran her fingers over his muscles as they constricted beneath her touch. His breath was already unsteady. It was painful not being able to touch her when she looked so damn good. She kissed along his chest and down his abs to the waistband of his boxers. A breathless curse fell from his lips as she tugged them down.
In no time, she was working him with her hands and then her lips were wrapping around his length. He gathered her hair in his fist and gently pulled it back and out of her face, watching in awe, mouth ajar as she bobbed her head on his dick. She looked up at him sweetly, eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones as she watched him unravel. He moaned as she took him deeper, hitting the back of her throat.
His other hand flew to his own face and ran through his hair, gripping the roots as he felt his orgasm beginning to bloom in the pit of his stomach. Jake never lasted long when she was on her knees. Her mouth worked wonders for him.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he muttered, grip on her hair getting tighter. His hips thrust up involuntarily and she gagged around his cock, but didn’t stop. He threw his head back with a groan as she deep throated him and then he finally came. She swallowed it, sucking him dry as he became a moaning mess beneath her. “Fuck, Sutton, fuck.”
She pulled her mouth off his cock with a pop and licked her lips as his gaze returned to her. He dropped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her up to him. The lace of her lingerie scratched against the bare skin of his chest and when she straddled him as they kissed, he could feel how wet she was underneath.
“You’re so wet, princess,” he whispered into her kiss. One hand slid along her thigh up to her pussy. He pushed the fabric to the side and slid his fingers along her folds. “I love it when you suck my dick, but I can’t wait to fuck you.” He inserted two fingers into her pussy and she moaned as he curled them against her g-spot. “You’re so wet, so ready for me. Do you want my cock, angel?”
Sutton nodded, a whimper falling from her lips as he pulled his fingers out of her. He stood, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could walk her into the bedroom. When he lowered her onto the bed carefully, he kissed along her skin from the valley of her breasts to her lips.
“Do you like your gift?”
“I love it,” he whispered against her throat. His fingers trailed along the lace covering her pussy. “You bought it for me? Just me?” She nodded, breath catching in her throat as he rubbed her through the fabric. “Happy birthday, JD.”
She giggled at his dorky expression and that little smile on his lips, but she shut up the moment he pushed the lingerie to the side. His fingers began to massage her folds again, coaxing sweet moans from her as he sunk the fingers into her heat and curled them once more.
“I never get tired of your moans,” he murmured. “And I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when I’m fucking you.” She swallowed thickly, his words so dirty compared to how he often joked with her. He noticed her reaction and smiled. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this, Sutton?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“You’re gonna learn a lot of new things about me.”
Sutton giggled and he did just the same because nothing between the two of them could ever stay serious. They just liked each other too much to not be smiling, giggling messes at all times.
“As much as I like this lingerie,” he began, fingers dancing along the bows. “How do I take it off?”
Sutton sat up with a laugh and reached behind her to unclasp the bra. It fell away and she tossed it onto the floor. Jake hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of the panties and pulled them down, throwing them onto the floor as well. His hands were everywhere all at once, cupping her breasts, teasing her core.
He pushed her thighs apart and slotted himself between them as he began kissing her again, the head of his cock brushing against her clit as he leaned in. Her sharp intake of breath shattered the silence in the room.
“Jake, I want you,” she pleaded. He released an uneasy breath, cheeks flushed pink as he reached out to grab the condom from the nightstand and ripped the wrapper open with shaking hands. Sutton reached up and took it from him, asking, “Are you nervous?”
“A little bit, I think. It’s because I like you too much.”
“Too much?”
“It’s not a complaint,” he responded, capturing her lips in a kiss. He sucked in a breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as Sutton rolled the condom over his cock. “Fuck.”
She laid back against the pillows once it was on and Jake admired her body, laid out for him. His hands travelled up her sides, back to her breasts, along the skin of her neck and her cheeks. He nudged her thighs apart some more with his knees.
“Are you ready?” he asked. She nodded, accepting his kiss before he reached down and aligned himself with her entrance. One hand rested beside her head and his other wrapped around his cock as he pushed the head into her. She sighed as he entered her some more, finally releasing his member from his hand and caging her head in on both sides with his hands.
He shuddered as he filled her up, the feeling of her warmth all too consuming. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he bottomed out and she sighed out a moan, wrapping her legs around his waist to take him deeper.
“You feel so good,” he muttered, barely able to get the words out. He let out a shaky laugh and halted his movements to steady his breath. “Hold on. I need a minute.” Sutton furrowed her brows as he leaned back. He gazed down at her body, down at his body and the place they fit together. “If you told me back in March that this is where we’d be seven months later, I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“No?”
“No, you’re my dream girl,” he spoke, leaning in to kiss her again. He pulled out slowly and then pushed back into her. As she sighed beneath him, he spoke against her lips, “You’re so far out of my league.”
“Jake,” she whispered, fingers carding through his hair. He glanced up at her again. “You’re perfect for me.”
Their next kiss was passionate and full of fire, and he began to thrust faster, pulling her leg higher on his waist to hit deeper. The sound of their moans mixing and their bodies together filled the room. He spoke praises to her about how beautiful she was, how good she felt. She kissed him until her lips were bruised.
His thrusts were slow and calculated and he tried to look her in the eye to see how she looked when she was filled with him. The view was beautiful with her lips plump and her eyes wide. She watched him intently, overwhelmed by this moment, overwhelmed that she was finally with him like they’d wanted to be for so long.
She rutted her hips up to get more friction from him and he dropped his hand to her clit, hoping to help her reach the peak before he had his second orgasm of the night. Her nails scratched his back as her toes began to curl.
“Please,” she moaned.
“What’s up, baby? What do you need?”
“Fuck me harder.”
Jake lifted her leg up to rest against his shoulder and dirty, loud moans filled the room as he fucked her. She looked so pretty beneath him, eyes squeezed shut as her back arched off the mattress. He coached her through it, talkative as always, and she shuddered beneath him as he reached the peak, pussy fluttering around his cock. Her chest heaved as he fucked her through the orgasm and, finally, he poured into the condom as he reached his own.
He didn’t pull out until he was soft, and even then, he hardly moved away from her, opting instead to just drop his weight against her in bed. Her fingers carded through his hair and he relaxed into her touch, leaving lazy kisses against her skin. Finally, he pulled himself off her and moved up the bed to rest his head beside hers on the pillow.
They stared at each other for a long time without saying a word.
Jake couldn’t believe his luck, couldn’t believe that this girl was his, finally. He threaded his fingers through her hair to see her face properly and sighed before leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her nose.
“You’re my best friend,” he whispered. “I’m so happy we’re together.”
“Me too.”
Sutton’s heart felt like it could explode from happiness. After all the times she’d been mistreated, all the bullshit she went through with Garrett, she was finally with someone who understood her, both inside and out. Jake looked at her like she put the stars in the sky and it made her melt.
“I think I could spend the rest of my life with you,” he spoke, voice cracking a bit with emotion as his eyes bore into hers. “I love you, Sutton.”
“Jake,” she sighed out, tears coming to her eyes. She reached up, swiping a thumb along his cheekbone and he tilted his head to press a kiss to her palm. “I love you, too.”
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watermelonlipstick · 4 years
Text
Dreams, Chapter 12
If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:
When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.
Title: Dreams, Chapter 12
Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2369
Summary: Finally starting to talk about the dreams encourages Sam to start trusting himself. 
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n
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           In an ideal world, you would’ve been patient enough to let Sam bring it up next. But adding the layer of possibility of seeing Dean, really Dean, again, opening some channel to talk to him in your dreams, was sending you into a spiral that ironically was preventing you from sleeping.
           You lasted a few weeks before waking up on a morning of early spring melt and waiting for Sam at the breakfast bar with your now-prized notebook. He came out of the bedroom as you were cutting a grapefruit for him and you passed over a cup of coffee.
           “You seem, uh, chipper.” He was still blinking slowly like he always did for the first few minutes after waking up, fingers wrapping nearly all the way around the ceramic and bypassing the handle.
           Waiting until he sat down on one of the stools and smiling at how short it looked compared to his legs, you put a bowl of yogurt and granola in front of him next to the fruit. Cheap bribery, but you were willing to try anything you had. “I’m hoping maybe we can, um, try to figure this out. I thought if we could make kind of a timeline then maybe we could—” you stammered, having run through this script in your head and still feeling your heart ram against your ribs as you watched for Sam’s reaction. He set the mug down and rubbed his face before resting his head in his hands.
           “Okay.”
           “Okay?”
           “I mean, yeah. I’ve been—I don’t know, I’ve just—”
           “Sam, you don’t have to explain anything.”
           His mouth tightened into a firm line and you could see his jaw flex before he picked up a spoon and started stirring the granola into his yogurt. “Where do you want to start?”
           You’d had a small variety of dreams where Dean narrowly avoided death, but you and Sam decided the best place to start would be the dreams that were explicitly good. That left:
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           Sam hadn’t immediately offered what his dreams with Dean were about, and when you sensed that moment of hesitation you didn’t push. That privacy was the least you could give him, already feeling guilty at prying into his thoughts as much as you were.
           “Well, what about those days? Did anything different happen on the days you had those dreams?” you asked, trying to change tack.
           He raised his eyebrows and considered it for a minute. “The first time was obviously the, uh, the cupcakes.”
           Remembering it made you smile a little to yourself and you wrote it down in the notebook. “And the next?”
           “Uh, that Thursday.”
           “Right, but what happened that day?”
           Sam bit the inside of his lip. “Nothing, really.”
           “Okay, well work sucked, that’s for sure. Maybe that was it, that you were more tired? Remember I fell asleep on the couch while you were in the shower?”
           “If you weren’t covered in grenadine I would’ve left you there.”
           “Can you imagine how sticky and gross I would’ve been in the morning? So work was shitty, I fell asleep on the couch, what else—”
           “You folded my laundry for me.”
           “What?”
           He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “You, uh, you folded my laundry for me.”
           “I always fold laundry.”
           “No—not the laundry, my laundry.  I forgot a bunch of my stuff in the dryer and you folded it while I was in the shower.”
           “I really doubt me folding th—”
           “We talked about it in the dream, it was the laundry.” Before you could pry, he took a big gulp of coffee. “So where does that put us?”
           “Wait, I’m still on the laundry.”
           “It was…I don’t know, it was just really nice. It felt like a really nice, normal thing. And it’s not—I mean, who cares, it was just laundry, about the lowest stakes favor there’s ever been in our lives, but it kind of hit me how far we’d come and it made me realize I’d fold your laundry too, you know? The big stuff we’ve already proven, right? But it’s little stuff like folding the laundry, that day-in, day-out, I’m-thinking-about-you—”
           “Gummy worms,” you murmured.
           “What?”
           “I feel like that when you buy me gummy worms. Maybe you’re just doing that because Dean did or whatever, but there’s something about those extra things that add up. I get it.”
           “I—yeah.” Sam gulped.
           You started writing.
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           Spinning the notebook back toward him, you let Sam read and didn’t say anything for a long minute past when he was sure to have finished, even getting up to refill your coffee cups while he thought. You came back to the counter and wrapped your fingers around the warm mug, unwilling to be the first one to speak.
           Sam’s jaw tightened around nothing and he nodded slightly without looking up, vision trained on a blank spot of counter next to his bowl. When he finally tilted and met your eyes, his were so big and shiny, so Precious Moments that you almost would’ve laughed, almost would’ve smacked his shoulder and told him to stop manipulating you with those Victim’s Family Puppy Dog Eyes. But they were genuine and unmoving, electric with emotion in the morning light. You traced the angle of his jaw and slipped a fallen piece of hair behind his ear before steadying your palm on the back of his neck, hair warming your fingertips as you met his eyes, leaning an inch or two closer to Sam’s face and then he glanced down at your lips. He didn’t move at all as you slowly, carefully closed the distance between you until at the last second Sam wrapped his fingers around your wrist where it grazed his throat and turned into it, pressing his lips to the now-thrumming pulse there for an extended beat.
           He opened and closed his mouth to try to explain, but you kissed his forehead in apology before he could say anything.
           “I, um—thank you for going over these with me,” you whispered into his hairline, feeling his nod against you.  You broke away from him, taking his empty bowl to the sink for an excuse to do something with your hands. “I need new scrapers to take off the popcorn ceiling, is there anything else I should get at the hardware store?” You knew it would be hard to hear you over the running water to wash the dish, but you couldn’t risk your voice cracking if you spoke louder.
           Mercifully, he didn’t push. “Nothing I can think of, no.”
           You left a few minutes later while Sam was in the shower, careening way too fast around the curves in the rural highways just to feel the weight of the Impala strain to stay on track. There were so many things coming together, so many sweet and comfortable aspects to your life, but it was so frustrating to have the two you wanted most to be just barely out of reach; the ability to be truly happy with Sam or to see Dean in your dreams both obfuscated by the self-flagellating remnants of Sam’s unimaginable torture.
           And yet, impossible for you to be angry with Sam at all; it was yet another in a long stream of ways his life had been torn to shreds by external forces, yet another reminder of how unimaginably resilient he was to be standing at all. Screaming at the complete unfairness of it like a moody teenager in the privacy afforded by the car and the trees, you only had to wipe a few tears away in the parking lot before going into the hardware store.
           Diane was working and had some helpful tips for dealing with the ceilings, as well as a picture of her new grandchild to show you before you headed back to the cabin. You had to bump the front door open with your hip because of the heavy paper bag of supplies, and when Sam heard you he walked over from the couch with a few long strides, taking it out of your hands. His hair was still wet, dripping an uneven collar around his shirt.
           “Is this—uh, did you—do you only want this so we can see Dean again?”
           You weren’t expecting to get into it again, at least not right away, and had to take a deep breath to soothe your surprise at Sam’s nervous energy. He set the bag down a little roughly on the kitchen counter as you followed him inside.
            “Sam, of course not, Jesus. I mean, but I—but yeah, I want to see him again, don’t you?”
            “Of course I do.” He winced, pained even at the suggestion otherwise.
           “I’m sorry I misread the moment earlier. I’m—I, I love you Sam; those days were the only real happy ones I’ve had since Dean died, and if being together means we get to—” and you were cut off by Sam’s hands cupping your face as he kissed you, firm and urgent with tight closed lips like he was trying to seal himself to your skin.
           It was over as soon as it started, Sam holding your head as he pulled his own away and searching your eyes. “If it isn’t rea—” he stopped short, screwed his face together before continuing, consciously unclenched his jaw and smoothed the furrows of his eyebrows. “If we’re doing this, it has to be about us. I can’t—I just can’t build everything on some dreams.”
           You nodded, stunned.
           Sam kept looking between your eyes furiously like he was trying to communicate something you weren’t getting. You tried desperately to race through what it could be and came up short, your brain melting and swirling together inside your skull. It was impossible for you to tell whether he’d found what he wanted or not, but after a few brief seconds of shifting his center of gravity like he was getting ready to either be socked or start a sprint, his face tightened in frustration and he touched his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I’m—I’m not ready,” he growled, more to himself than anything as he shut his eyes hard. You waited for an explanation, your breath gone shallow and your cheeks fiery-hot under Sam’s hands.
           He brushed along your cheekbone with a callused thumb and lifted your chin with featherweight pressure, your lips not a half inch apart from each other. You inhaled the citrus off his breath and held perfectly still until Sam finally kissed you again. It was softer than moments before but just as serious, the emotional weight of his lips so much more than the tender movement of them against yours. As kisses went, it was one of the most innocent you’d had—even more than your first kiss ever, middle school boy you’d thought was cute at the roller rink whose braces had caught on your lips—but if this was what Sam could handle it was enough for you, would have to be enough for you. You kissed back only as his mirror and broke away when he did feeling dizzy with complicated restraint.
           “I’m almost there, I’m so sorry, I’m almost there,” he murmured, straight into the inches between you so you could let them soak in. “Please, I’m so sorry, I just—if it’s not real I can’t—”
           You wrapped your hands around his where they held your head. “I know. I know, Sam, I know.”
           Later you wouldn’t remember how you’d moved on to the rest of the day, rhythmically scraping popcorn texture off of drywall while listening to Bikini Kill. But it was a hug and a few tears in a chain of thousands between you, and that was part of it. Like Sam had said, those moments that meant so little on their own and added up over time. You both worked on different chunks of the ceiling and got through a good amount of it. The difference was remarkable, making the cabin look so much cleaner and more modern. After your shoulders got too sore to keep going, Sam threw together a bastardized puttanesca and you both tried really hard to lighten the mood over dinner, ending the evening feeling pretty close to normal.
           When you climbed into bed, Sam leaned over so that his hair fell in a curtain around your face. The closeness took your breath away, and you cursed your body for betraying you like this, unable to focus for the scent of familiar warmth coming off of him and hypnotic color shift of his eyes. For a fleeting second of panic you wondered if he would ever feel protective and safe again or if these shocks of heat—spurred on by what, two chaste kisses?—were all you’d ever feel around Sam again, if you’d be able to sleep knowing how close to tipping over that boundary you were.
           You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was going to apologize and stopped him by resting a finger on his mouth as he opened it to speak. He smiled against your hand, gentle and a little sad, before touching his lips to yours for the third time that day. It felt like some kind of healing burn; a cauterizing iron splitting you in half and reassuring you that scattered into pieces was the way you were supposed to be; giving you permission to crumble into dust, let yourself be swept away trusting that there was a plan for the place that every grain of yourself would land. There was no way to know precisely Sam’s intention, but if it was to send your mind unspooling like a cheap yo-yo about what that fourth, fifth, sixth kiss might feel like, he had succeeded.
           “Thank you,” he whispered, holding your gaze for a moment before turning off the light and fitting himself like a puzzle piece along the curve of your back.
-
Continue to Dreams, Chapter 13
Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!
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mashiraostail · 4 years
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I've been having a lot more depressive episodes lately.(dw, im getting help) But, can i have Nemuri and Aizawa comforting a s/o who just had a depressive episode? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable with the topic, but if you do thank you so much
Thanks for the request! I can do this for sure and I hope it helps! As someone who is also depressed I put some lil tidbits from my own struggles in here (specifically the gargantuous amount of energy turning the shower knob can take me and how that simple action has literally stopped me showering for weeks) If you’re struggling right now please remember to extend your body the same kindness you so consistently extend to other people!! Even by sitting here reading my writing you’re being so amazingly kind to me!! Project that back onto yourself and give yourself a reward, a glass of water at your favorite temperature, or even a snack if you can stomach it! It’s easy to drown ourselves in comfort content and neglect tangible acts of self love but I promise the energy will be worth it!
Nemuri: It’d been a while since Nemuri heard from you, and even longer since she’s seen you, which was rare. You didn’t drop off the face of the planet or anything but you had been evading her invitations to go out or even just to spend a night with her. She wanted to avoid showing up unannounced but it was becoming concerning. The last thing she wanted was to make you think she didn’t trust you or to startle you, but whenever she brought it up you brushed her off. She hated the idea of you being sick or even just swamped with work all alone when she was more than capable of helping you out. Eventually she just decides to show up, she texts you first but you don’t even appear to open it, she just had a bad feeling and if hero-work taught her anything it was to always trust a bad feeling.  She knocks on your front door for a while to no avail, ringing the bell intermittently, she’s just met with silence. Her key works which at least is a good sign that you didn’t pack up and move across the country or something.  “Hello??” She wanders into the apartment. It’s dark and radio silent. But there are dishes in the sink, your shoes strewn around the entryway and your bag on the table.  “You here??” You were definitely here, your car keys were on the couch and your usual walking around sneakers...or. one of them was underneath the coffee table.  She decides to check your bedroom.  “I’m gonna open the door okay?? If you aren’t decent now’s the time to say it don’t freak out at me okay?? I’m opening the door now.” She opens the door with covered eyes. “Hello?” She peeks between her fingers and is greeted with the sight of you, or the lump that is probably you, curled up underneath your duvet.  “Nemuri.” Your head pokes up overtop your pile of pillows and the fluff of your comforter.  “Well hello!” She piques, clearly relieved to see you, “good morning to you sleeping beauty, though it is 4 in the afternoon.” She pushes the door open the rest of the way and enters the room.  “What’s up?” She leans against your dresser, “where have you been?”  “Where does it look like I’ve been?” You sigh.  “What’re you a vampire or something now? Decided to go fully nocturnal?” She grins but you don’t mimic her amusement.  “What’s wrong babe? I’ve done like 4 things that you would have laughed at by now. Something’s obviously wrong. I texted you and called but you didn’t reply...are you upset with me? This isn’t how you normally act when you’re upset with me...” She wrings her hands together, “normally you come to see me all the time, I’m not saying you have to be inseparable from me or anything but...well this just isn’t like you..if I made you mad I’d rather you tell me babe since I’m clueless..”   You sigh, suddenly feeling guilty for your radio silence for the past few days and the increasing distance you’d put between the pair of you for the past week or so now. It was intentional you just shut down and you didn’t mean to but everything was a chore, even the things you loved, sometimes especially the things you loved.  “No...it’s not you.”  “Well I’m...” She looked confused, “I’m glad to hear that but I’m still kinda lost. Are you sick? Did someone else make you upset? If someone else is giving you problems you need to tell me.” Having the green light gets her to venture further into your bedroom and sit on the edge of your mattress, “I can set some people straight if that’s the problem.”  “No it’s..nobody...no one is giving me any trouble that’s not it.” You also suddenly feel sort of stupid. You don’t even know what put this on. One day you were fine and the next you were worse, and then next was worse and the next was worse than that until you ended up where you were now. In bed 5 days removed of a shower where your one meal of the day consisted of a plain bagel sometimes toasted other times not.  “No one?” She reaches out and holds the bend of your knees, “are you sure?” You nod. “Okay then...well what is it? I wanna help but you’ve gotta let me know how.”  “I just...” You scrub your face, “I just...it’s been a really bad week or..2 weeks or..however long. I don’t know. I feel so depressed and exhausted and everything is annoying and tiring and no matter how much I sleep I can’t seem to stay awake.” She takes in a breath at that and nods with it.  “Oh. OH. Well now I feel stupid pulling away so much. I just didn’t wanna be overbearing and offend you or..well...well what’s up? What set all this on? Did something happen to...to make you feel upset or?”  “I don’t know...I just think I haven’t been taking good enough care of myself. I’ve been slacking and procrastinating and then I got overwhelmed and then I got upset and now...I’m here. I just feel like such an idiot and now to think I made you think I was upset with you because I was too-”  “Don’t even finish that sentence.” Nemuri shushes you, “it’s alright. Really you don’t have to feel bad about that. I get it, I understand now so it’s okay. I’m sorry for making it about me.” Her hand moves up to squeeze your thigh.  “I wanna do everything I can to help okay? Whatever I can do to help you come out on top with this thing...” Her other hand squeezes your lower arm, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me with this sort of thing okay? We don’t have to get into the...deep emotional part of it if you don’t wanna talk about that with me. But we can start small can’t we? When’s the last time you had something to drink?” She looks at the empty glasses on your bedside table. “And when’s the last time you ate or took a shower?”  The face you make at that tells her more than enough.  “Okay you don’t have to answer that.” She reaches out tuck your hair back but you flinch away from it, the last thing she need to feel was your dirty hair.  “Come on with that.” She sighs, “I don’t think you’re gross. I’m not grossed out at all okay? I promise. I’ve had my fair share of shower protests. It’s in the job description, no ones perfect. I love you, smelly or not. Now hold still and let me give you a kiss.”  You relent at that. She presses a long kiss to your temple, sighing into your skin, “I’m sorry you feel this way. I don’t wan you to feel this way ever..so let’s start small.. How about a nice bath, yeah? I’ll set one up for you you can soak in it for a bit, while you do that I’ll clean up around here, change your sheets and...work on that.. situation.. in the sink, then when you’re ready I’ll come wash your hair for you. After that you can relax in the bath a little more, shave if that’s something that will make you feel good, or I could put some conditioner in your hair. Or you can just sit in a nice warm bath with a cold bottle of water and get your energy back up. I’ll get you some real food in the mean time.”  She doesn’t poke or prod for information, she washes your hair with the same care and consideration that went into most of the things she did, she didn’t ask to join you, or to stay. She asked if you wanted to be alone for a little bit longer and left you to it when you confessed that you did only poking in to leave ‘the comfiest looking pajamas I could find’ for when you were done cleaning up. You manage to get yourself up and out of the bath without having to call for the help or extra motivation to do it. She only looks delighted to see you.   “How’d the bath go? Did I use enough bubbles?”  “It was nice..I didn’t realize how..far gone I was..I feel better..” You rub your arm, if she’s at all perturbed by your confession it’s not detectable.  “Yeah?? I had a feeling it would help. Now come here. I really want a hug.” She pats the empty bed beside her and you make your way over.  “Good, there you are.” She wraps her arms around you and sighs, “I missed you.” She tucks you easily into her chest, her free hand scratching the nape of your neck, “don’t apologize for that.” She stops you before you can talk.  “I ordered some food from that place you like. I wanted to make something so you could get some food in you a little faster but...you’re running a little low on raw materials.” She combs her fingers through your wet hair, “it’s okay though having your favorite might make you feel a little better.”  “Yeah..thanks for being here.” You close your eyes, still exhausted but your chest felt lighter, your whole body felt lighter.  “Of course. I only wish I came sooner but...” She pulls back and looks at you, holding the base of your skull in her hands, “I get wanting to be alone sometimes. Needing space to get your feet on the ground is normal but...don’t be afraid to ask for my help either. If there ever is a time that you want me here, need me here even...I want to be here. I know I can rely on you so I hope you know you can rely on me too.” She presses a long kiss to your forehead at that.  “I think I’ll feel a lot better tomorrow.” Your voice is quiet and your fingers brush against her collarbone. “That’s good.” Her palm pulls your hair off your forehead, “in the meantime I’ll be here to help you get there.” 
Aizawa:  Aizawa was an introvert himself. He liked being around other people at times of course but sometimes he just needed a quiet room to recharge. He figured you did too, and plus you were both plenty busy. For the most part he trusted your judgement and tended to not be very insecure when it came to how much time you spent together. He liked being around you, and would rather be with you than not for the most part but he understood probably better than anyone what exhaustion can do to a person. If you were tired then you could recharge. That being said he wouldn’t avoid you if he saw you out and about, and he saw you out and about.  It was actually late for you to be out, late for anyone to be out really. You were leaving a convince store and he was getting ready to call it a night with patrolling.  “Hey.” The way you jump out of your skin at his voice tells him he maybe should have approached you with noisier steps.  “Sorry.”  “It’s okay.” You clutch the bag you were holding, “I just thought I was getting mugged is all.”  “You think there are criminals running around when I’m out here? I don’t know if I should be insulted.” He teases a little and you jump.  “That isn’t how I meant-”  “I know.” He chuckles, “I know. What are you doing out so late? It’s almost midnight.”  “I...had to get some stuff.. You bounce nervously on the balls of your feet, the last thing you needed was him seeing you like this. It was the first time you’d gone out in like 2 weeks, you were sure you looked as terrible as you felt.  “You don’t look very happy to see me.” Ever intuitive. You supposed you didn’t keep it much of a secret, the first thing you did whenever you saw him was reach out for him, his hand, his arm, his waist, you just wanted to touch. Or normally you did, but now all you wanted to do was get away.  “I’m just...exhausted. Sorry I am happy to see you. I’m always happy to see you.” You rub your eyes, “like you said, it’s late.”  “It is late.” He agrees, “I’m finished here.”  “O-oh that’s good..are you hurt at all?”  “No, slow night...but.. why don’t we spend the night together? Since we’re both here.”  He didn’t need to see the state of your apartment.  “U-uh okay yeah we can go to yours..” “You’re closer.” He raises his eyebrows, letting his goggles fall around his neck, “and you just bought stuff. I’m assuming it’s for your apartment not mine.” He peeks into the bag, “I don’t remember sending you a midnight shopping list.”  “W-well yeah but there’s school tomorrow and you’re closer so it’s probably easier for you and-”  “You’re an extra five minutes out.” He laughs at that, “and unless you trashed all my things in the week I went without seeing you I have plenty of stuff to wear at your place.”  “Y-yeah I mean..that is true.”  He raises one eyebrow at you, “so?” You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, the mountain of dishes in your sink, the full washer and dryer and 2 baskets of unfolded laundry didn’t seem like an excuse, especially considering it was knowledge you wanted to withhold from him in the first place.  “Y-yeah sure..it has been a while.”  “Alright, let’s go then.” He reaches out and takes your bags from you batting your hand away as you try to stop him.  “You’ve been working-”  “I got it. It’s fine come on. You really shouldn’t be out so late by yourself you know.”  “You’re probably right..” You murmur, making to follow him down the road.  He doesn’t pry about your jittery state, he asks a few question about how your day went and seems to back down even more when you take a hold of his arm on your walk.  “It really is slow tonight.” He looks around, “at least you picked a good night for a midnight excursion.” He nudges you a little playfully and you hum.  You wanted to be more engaging but every step brought you closer to the impending doom that would be Shota seeing the abysmal state in which you were living.  Once you get to the front door you realized you didn’t have your keys.  “I...” You look at your shoes and he leans against the wall.  “What’s up?”  “I don’t have my keys..”  “You really are lucky you ran into me.” He straightens up and shifts the bags to one arm to fish around in his pocket, “I’ve got one. Are you feeling alright?” You don’t reply because...well he’d figure it out.  “Please don’t say anything rude.” You warble mostly to yourself as the lock clicks, he pushes the door open. “What do you mean don’t say anything rude, why would I-” He clicks the light on as he steps inside. Oh it’s worse than you remembered. How’d your laundry get to the couch? And why did you get a new glass every time you wanted water? Especially when you didn't drink it half the time. Everything is clearer in hindsight.  “Oh.” He sets the bags down on the coffee table, which is really the only clear surface in a 10 foot radius of him.  “I’m sorry.” You groan, slumping into the wall and scrubbing your face, “I’m so gross-”  “I didn’t say that...But let me ask again.”  He turns to you, “are you feeling alright?”  “Not really no..” You look down again and he starts to pick up some of the glasses.  “The sink isn’t any better..” You warn him, hugging your chest.  “Yeah I figured.” He turns to you, arms full of various aspects of your mess. “Don’t look so guilty. Come on.” He nods you towards your kitchen, you figure the least you can do is pick up a few spoons, bowls and glasses on your way in.  “You don’t have to clean up after my stupid mess I-”  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He shakes his head, “you don’t feel good. I wish you’d said something sooner. I would have come when you asked.”  “Don’t feel bad.” You murmur, “I wasn’t ready anyways.”  “Come here.” He holds an arm out and you cringe, “I probably smell terrible I haven’t-”  “It’s okay. It’s all okay. I’m not holding any of this against you, no one is. Come on. Over here.” So you shuffle into his chest, eventually wrapping tired arms around his ribs.  “Does this help?” He’s rubbing long strokes up your back, his palm his firm against you every stroke pushing you a little closer. You just nod into his chest.  “Did something happen? Did someone upset you? Or are you just having a hard time right now?”  “I’m just having a hard time.” You reply, trying not to let your voice sound to wet or warbly. “Cry if you want to. If you need to. It’s okay. I won’t hold that against you either. Sometimes the best thing you can do is cry. I’ll be here for you while you do.” It’s not loud hiccup-y sobs, you aren’t bawling and sniffling. It sounds just as tired as the rest of you, it’s listless and exhausted and downright empty. It honestly hurt him to hear it a little. He’s been there too.  One hand holds the back of your head the other keeps running those lines up your back pressing between your shoulder blades.  “What do you think about taking a shower?” His fingers glide along the hem of your tee shirt, grazing your neck lightly. “It’s not that I don’t want to-”  “I know. Hey, I know.” He pulls you away and slicks your hair back, “but you’re neglecting your body right now. Even if you don’t mean to. Your skin and hair will be really thankful for a shower right now. How can I help you get there?”  He takes you to the bathroom and carefully undresses you going as far to turn the shower nob for you.  “Sit if you need to.” He reminds you, gathering your clothes off the ground, “I’m going to leave the door open so call me if there’s anything you can’t do, but I’ll come check on you in 10 minutes okay? Is there anything you don’t want me touching or cleaning without you? Is there anything that’s off limits?”  “No...it’s okay...I just feel bad you’ve been working and now-”  “Don’t feel bad. I’m not doing anything that you wouldn’t do for me. Take your shower, I’ll come back in a few minutes after I fold up the laundry out here. Try to stay focused.”  “Thank you.” You nod and squeezes your shoulder.  “You’re welcome. And thank you for trusting me.”  He helps you out of the shower and wraps you in a towel. In the time you’d spent in the shower he’d gotten most of your dishes into the dish washer and you could see your couch again.  “New sheets.” He kisses your temple, “you ready to go to sleep?”  You nod as he tosses a tee shirt to you.  “Tomorrow morning you’re gonna eat a good breakfast with me right?”  “I don’t really have much to cook with-” “We’ll make it work.” He leans back against the pillows, “don’t worry about it now. Right now just focus on getting some sleep, real genuinely restful sleep. Wake me up if you need me.” 
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redpandaramblings · 4 years
Text
Laundry Day. Sero x F!reader
Content warning- Mature humor, Mineta mention, sexual situations, heavy petting.
 “Come on!  It would be so much fun!”  Mina was bouncing on her heels, practically vibrating with excited energy as she tried to convince the group to go along with her scheme.
“So let me get this right.” Bakugo sighed.  “You want to do this fucking thrift store scronging thing for Christmas?”
“Yep!”  Mina said.  “Let’s be real, none of us have a lot of money this year, and this will be a way to have a lot of fun on a budget!  It’s simple.  Everyone finds the weirdest or most inappropriate thing they can buy for five bucks or less, and then we have a white elephant party on Christmas Eve!”
“White Elephant?” Kirishima asks, tilting his head.
Kaminari nods, jumping in.  “Yeah man!  Means people take turns picking gifts out of a pile.  Or they have the chance to steal a gift someone else already opened.  Basically, don’t go picking stuff thinking it will go to a specific person.”
“Is this going to be just us?  Or are we inviting everyone?  Because I live in curious fear of whatever Mineta would manage to dig up.”  You asked from where you were lounging.
Mina blanched while Denki cackled in delight.
“Oh god, we have to invite everyone now!  Imagine Midoria’s face!  Imagine Iida’s!”
“It’s settled!  Party at Bakubro’s!” Kiri cheered.
“Oi shitty hair! Don’t fucking invite everyone over to my place!”
“But you make the best curry!  Please?  For your bestest friends in the whole wide world?”
“Fuck no!”
“Pleeeeaaaase?”  Kiri pleaded.
“NO!”
Kirishima looked around the squad, communicating silently as everyone nodded.  As a collective force, you all turned your best puppy eyes at Bakugo.  He squirmed, firmly trying to look away from all of you.  You all started fake whimpering and whining.  You knew you had won when Katsuki’s lips briefly twitched into a smile.
“Alright!  Alright!  Now stop it, you fucking extras!”
“Three cheers for Bakubro!” Sero exclaimed.
The weeks flew by and before you knew it, the party was upon you.  Katsuki had grumbled and bitched the whole time, and yet now was gazing with pride at the absolute spread he had spent the last two days cooking.  Everyone had showed up, had gorged themselves, and were now in the process of opening presents.  There had been a couple weird mugs, a lamp made out of a deer leg, and Iida had had the misfortune of opening the gift Mineta had brought.  Everyone stared in horrified awe at the three foot long, hot pink dildo.
“Are those teeth marks on it?”
“Yep, teeth marks.”
“Mineta, where the hell did you find this thing?”
“I swear I got it at a thrift store!  The price tag is still on the base, look!”
“Yep.  That’s a price tag.”
“I’m not drunk enough for this.”
“I wanna bite it.”
“Y/N!  NO!”
There was a lot of laughter and teasing as the evening continued, gifts continuing to be claimed or stolen at a slow pace.  Just about everyone after Iida had tried to steal ownership of the horror dong as it had been nicknamed.  Denki had just stolen it from you, so you had to pick a new gift.  You pointed toward a box that was rather conspicuously wrapped entirely in tape.
“Okay, someone toss me whatever the hell Sero got.”
The black haired man gave a little fist pump as he snagged the box, walking over to sit next to you as he handed the box over.  He casually pressed against your side and slung an arm around your shoulders.  “Amiga, I’m honored!  You’re going to love it!”
“Yeah, I’m going to love it if I can ever get into it.”  You began the process of slowly unwrapping the absurd amount of tape.  “Seriously, anybody got a knife?”
A chorus of “no”s replied, no one actually bothering to look for one.
You gave a dramatic groan.  “You’re all awful and I hate each and every one of you.”
Hanta gasped and placed a hand over his heart.  “Even me, Querida?”
“Especially you, you office supply elbowed freak.”  You replied, sticking your tongue out at him even as you snuggled more comfortably into his side.
After a couple more minutes of dramatic whining and tape unwrapping, you finally got the box open, only to reveal the gaudiest t-shirt you had ever seen.  It was a nauseating shade of Pepto Bismol pink.  There was glitter.  And oh god, what the thing said.  You started cackling.  You held it up for everyone to see, discovering as you did so that this had to be the largest shirt you had seen in your life.
“Ooo, nice one Hanta, that’s really awful!”
“Someone steal this from me, please!”
“No way, Y/N!  It’s the perfect addition to your wardrobe!”
“Hermosa! I’m wounded you would get rid of my gift right after opening it.”
“Look at this thing!  Fatgum would swim in it!”
You made a show of grumbling, but you stowed the shirt back in its box and enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friends.  When you got home quite late that evening, you shoved the box into the back of your closet and didn’t think about it again until almost a year later.
~~~
Today had been the day from hell.  You muttered curses to yourself as you stomped down the hallway to your apartment.  Work had been harder than usual, the kind of day that made you grateful to make the long commute back home.  So of course today would be the day that the subway would be taken over by a villain who had a sludge quirk.  Asshole had flooded the cars with the thick, foul smelling, viscous ooze that reminded you of things unmentionable.  You and the other passengers had had to scramble to make sure no one ended up in over their head.  Lucky everyone had been saved.  Unluckily you and many others, you had spent the better part of two hours standing shoulder deep in the muck.  It was in your hair.  It had soaked your clothes.  It was in your underwear.  And the icing on the cake was of course it was your friends and neighbors who had rescued you.  Of course your crush had seen you when you looked like you had taken up competitive septic tank diving.  
It took you three tries before your key actually got in the lock.  You shuffled into your apartment and straight for the bathroom.  Grimacing as you peeled your clothing off, you unceremoniously chucked everything into the hamper before stepping into the shower and turning the water as hot as it would go.  You stayed in the shower for over an hour scrubbing and rescrubbing every inch of you.  With great reluctance, you eventually stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel.  You lazily dried yourself off as you walked into the bedroom, intent on putting on pajamas and pretending you didn’t exist for the next several hours.  
You opened your underwear drawer only to be filled with a deep sense of dread.  Empty.  Your pajama drawer? One pair of extreme booty shorts that say “creepy” on the butt.  Your t-shirt drawer?  Empty.  Your closet?  Empty.  Frustrated tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as you realized that the shorts were the only clean item of clothing in your apartment.  You had been meaning to do laundry for a while, but you hadn’t realized that it had gotten this bad.  As much as you hated to, you were going to have to do your laundry tonight.  You put the shorts in and  looked through your closet again, desperate enough to find a sheet to try and fashion into a toga when you spotted a rather bedraggled tape covered box.  You hadn’t thought about your ridiculous white elephant gift in several months, but now?  Well, it technically was a shirt.  It certainly would cover you better than an improvised sheet toga.  Before you could think twice about it, you opened the box, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.
The shirt swam on you, going past your butt.  The color was bad, and you winced at the image on the front.  But, you were now decent enough to venture down to the building’s shared laundry room.  So, after grabbing your hamper, detergent, and quarter jar; you did just that.
You hummed the Mission Impossible theme to yourself as you descended the stairwell to the ground floor.  Most of your friends lived on this level, but chances were they were fast asleep at this time of night.  You were glad of that as you hurried along.  You really didn’t want to run into anyone wearing your current getup.  It took several minutes to sort your laundry into a few machines and get everything started.  You were leaning against the last machine in the line, debating going back to your place or just staying here when you heard something that made you freeze.  Upbeat whistling that was growing closer each second.  You knew that whistle You did not want to see the owner of that whistle right now.  You had already been embarrassed in front of crush today, you really didn’t need him showing up for round two.  You were debating how quickly you could scramble into a dryer to hide when Sero Hanta entered the room.  
He briefly glanced your way.  “Hey Y/N!  I figured I might see you here.  I’ll admit I’ve seen some shit, and that was gross even by my standards.  I wanted to ask how you were doing.  Make sure you weren’t injured or any…”. He trailed off when he finally registered what exactly you were wearing.  His grin turned positively feral as he set his own laundry bag to the side.
“My, my, my.”  Sero gave a rumbling chuckle.  “Whatever do we have here?”  Sero’s eyes could sweep up and down your body.  His signature grin grew wider as his gaze lingered on your t-shirt clad chest.  
You crossed your arms, attempting to hide the gigantic image of a lime green, glittery, prancing unicorn proclaiming “I’m horny!”  What were the odds that someone else would be washing their clothes at two in the morning?  Apparently changes were pretty damn high, you thought as you leveled a half hearted glare at your friend and neighbor.  
“It’s laundry day, Hanta, don’t read into it.”
“But Hermosa!  How can I not?  The first time I see mi corazón wearing the gift I so painstakingly chose for her?”  He waggled his eyebrows as his trademark teasing grin spread over his face.
You blushed, turning your head to the side and refusing to look at him.
“You’re full of crap, Cellophane.  It’s been a really shitty day, and this was literally my only thing to wear.”
Sero nodded and hummed, turning to put his own laundry in the machines.  “Si, si.  It was a rather difficult time, it looked like.  And you okay though?  Not injured?  I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you after the fight was over.”
You groaned, tilting your head back and covering your face with your hands. “I’m afraid I got a nasty case of extreme embarrassment and took a heavy blow to my pride.  Of course you fuckers had to be the heros on duty for that whole debacle.”
Hanta looks at you seriously as shoves disorganized armfuls of laundry into the nearest machine.  “I’d rather it be me saving you than anybody else, Querida.”
You let your hands fall to your side with a disgruntled sigh.  “Why?  So you can witness all the embarrassing situations you can blackmail me with?”
“Well now that you mention it, yes.”  Sero dumped an obscene amount of soap into the washer before turning it on.  “However,” he purred in a sinful voice that startled you.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  Squeaking, you inched away from him until the back of your legs were pressed firmly against the cold metal of the washing machine. Hanta leaned over your retreating frame, placing an arm on either side of you, caging you in.  “Querida mia, I want to always be able to make sure you are safe.”
You placed your hands on his chest, halfheartedly trying to shove him away.
“That’s very touching.  Now get out of my personal space.”
 “But Querida,”  Sero murmured, his voice going low and sensual, moving closer until your hips pressed against each other.  “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than your personal space.  Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte...”
With him so close, there was nothing you could do to disguise the shiver that ran through you at his words.  
“Oh?  What’s this?”  Sero said.  His large hands traveled to your hips, his long fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt to tantalizingly stroke your skin.  He leaned forward, voice turning to a growl with his mouth next to your ear.  “Hermosa likes me speaking Español, hmm?”
You bite your lip before giving in and nodding.
“Well, in that case…  Taco supreme!”
The fingers that had been stroking your skin suddenly became deadly, horrible tickle weapons; digging into your sides and moving rapidly.  You shrieked with surprised laughter, thrashing from side to side as you tried to escape.  However, Hanta’s large frame and firm hips kept you pinned against the washing machine as his traitorous fingers continued their assault.  He continues to tease in between his own laughter.  “Nachos grande!  Cinnamon Twists!  Quiero Taco Bell!”
Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you wheeze and slap at his chest.  “Stop!  Stop!  You horrible man!”  He gets in a few more tickles before he does stop, wrapping his arms around you, pulling into a tight hug as you both take a few moments to pant and calm your laughter.  He nuzzles your neck before asking softly, “Feel better?”
You nod, just enjoying his warm body wrapped around you.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”  Your voice just as soft as his, one of your hands finds its way up to stroke his hair.
“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”
“Please.”  You whisper softly, tugging at his hair just enough to encourage him to move his head back.  Your lips find each other, cautious and gentle at first.  Then, Hanta nips at your lower lip, and you let your mouth fall open with a whimper.  The kiss is hunger and passion, and heat.  Tongues wrestling, teeth lightly biting and teasing each other as hands roam and grope.  Sero’s hands find the back of your thighs and soon he’s lifting you, setting you down on the edge of the washing machine.  He presses himself between your spread legs, bucking against you, and you can feel his hard length teasing you through your clothes.
“Wanted this so long.  You have no idea how long.  Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.”
“Me too.  Wanted this so long, but didn’t think you felt the same.  Now get back here and kiss me like you mean it!”
He happily complied, his lips fitting over yours as if they had been made to be placed together.  The kisses and touches didn’t stay innocent long, his hands finding your breasts through your shirt, teasing and pulling at your nipples.  One of your hands traveled down to stroke the obvious bulge that was rutting against you.  Between his thrusting and the vibrations of the machine you were sitting on, your shorts were becoming visibly soaked.  His fingers found their way up a leg hole and he moaned sinfully when he found there weren't any undergarments keeping his touch from your soaking folds.  It was your turn to smirk, pulling away from his kisses to whisper in his ear.
“I told you, Darling.  Laundry day.”
“Amore, you’re going to be the death of me.”  He groans, shoving his face into your cleavage as he slips a finger into you.
You laugh breathlessly.  “You better not die on me, Hanta.  What I have in mind will be much less fun if you’re dead.”
“HOLY FUCK!”  Shouted a very recognizable voice from the doorway.  Your groan was not from pleasure as you rested your head on Sero’s shoulder.
“Piss off, Denki.”
“Hanta’s finally getting some honey!  Score man!”
“What’s going on?” Mina’s sleep heavy voice drifted in from the hallway.
“Y/n and Sero are going to Pound Town in the Laundry Room!”
“Denki, en el nombre de Dios, I will kill you if you don’t back out of that doorway and let me finish what I started.”
Bakugo’s voice rang down the hall “No fucking in the goddamn Laundryroom!”
Kiri’s voice soon followed “Take it easy, Tsuki!  They can clean up when they’re done!  Get some guys!  You need condoms?”
Sero sighed deeply, pulling his hand out of your pants as your shoulders shook from silent laughter.  “I think, Hermosa, we can agree no fucking in front of the friend group?”
You nodded, laughing as you jumped down from your washing machine perch. “Not until the third date at least.”
Sero moaned softly, not expecting the way that statement had made his cock twitch.  Acting quickly, he scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  “My room.  Now.”
“Ooo, Caveman Hanta.  Sexy.”
Denki jumped to the side to let Sero pass, calling after you “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”
You called back “Well, I’m going to do Hanta, so what does that say about you?”
Sero’s hand came down on your bottom with a firm smack as he continued down the hallway and around the corner, taking you two toward his apartment and out of sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spanish guide- 
Amiga- Friend
Querida- Darling
Hermosa- Beautiful
Querida mia- My darling.
 Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte- If you knew the things that I want to do to you
Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.-  And then today I was so worried about you. When I saw that you were in danger, I wanted to kill that villain and lock you up where you would never be in danger again.
Hey guys!  Pan here, hope you enjoyed it.  It’s been quite a while since I’ve put any of my fanfic out there, so please be gentle with me.  I just used Google translate for the Spanish, so I’m sure some of it is very wrong.  If you have corrections, please feel free to send them my way!  Also, if you see any triggers that need tagging please let me know.  I also accept constructive criticism, and appreciate having spelling and grammar mistakes pointed out.  Also want to take the chance to answer this question ahead of time-
“The fuck is up with the dildo?!?!”
The Dildo of Doom is based on real events.  That actually happened.  One of my former sorority sisters found the dong of death at a thrift store.  It did indeed have teeth marks on it.  Human teeth marks, I should clarify.  Truth is stranger than fiction.
I have to thank @reinawritesbnha for helping me edit some clunky sections.  If you aren’t already familiar with her work, please check her out!
Taglist- @reinawritesbnha @nkjktk
261 notes · View notes
dershloop · 3 years
Text
Title: Burning Pile
Words: 2410
Ship: Lava
Warnings: depressive episode, mentions of worthlessness. i wrote this based off od how my own depressive episodes tend to happen/come about so this might not be accurate to everyone so dont start yelling at me if its not "how depression is for you" anyone who says that will be blocked. its more of a comfort fic to get me through the last week of school.
Cole yawned, throwing his bag on the floor and rolling his shoulders, feeling them pop satisfyingly. Finally, he was home. Rubbing his eyes; cracking his neck and feeling his limbs come alive once more. He hated long car rides, they cramped his limps and make him travel sick. That’s the problem being tall and large; the back of cars wasn’t made to accommodate you. Jay kept telling him to learn to drive himself, but he didn’t have the time. Being a ninja was surprisingly hard work, with little time in between to learn to drive. He’d just have to make do.
“Oh Cole, hey dude, forgot you were coming back today,” Jay said, walking into the room, leaning against the counter, a strange look contorting his face, “How’s your dad?”
“Not too bad. Still pretty insistent on me being a good singer. Apparently, I just have to ‘dig deep. Something tells me he’s never going to back off with it,” Cole said with a laugh, Jay laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, “Are you ok man? You seem… I dunno. Off,” Jay’s face fell, his mouth scrunching nervously.
“You’re gonna be so pissed I didn’t tell you but… Kai’s not ok, he-”
“Wait what? What happened, where is he?’ Cole said frantically, his face falling in panic.
“I don’t- I don’t know dude! He’s barely been leaving his room, I don’t think he’s showered all week and I’ve barely seen him eat anything. We’ve tried to give him stuff and made him drink some water but-” Jay didn’t get a chance to finish, Cole pushed past him, dashing to his boyfriend’s room. From what he could gather, this had started a week ago. When he’d left. He hadn’t had a depressive episode in months now; had him leaving been the catalyst for all this? He was sure he’d been careful, he’d texted him every day. Even if they hadn’t called, he hadn’t asked. Besides, his dad didn’t know about them yet, he didn’t want to accidentally come out because of a phone call. Either way, if Kai had been in a bad way he hadn’t seemed like it. Apart from not asking to call, he’d seemed relatively normal. No slow replies. No giving texts. Nothing.
Cole softly knocked on Kai’s bedroom door, though it seemed pointless. No matter the response, he was going in there.
“What?” A hoarse voice called from inside the room. Kai’s hoarse voice. Cole opened the door, staring in awe at the state of the room. It was… messy to say the least. Clothes were scattered across the floor, making it so you couldn't even see the carpet. Mugs and glasses and bowls and plates littered around, just extra obstacles to the already high-staked trek to Kai’s bed.
“I’ve told you guys, leave me alone!” Kai yelled pushing himself up from his flat position on the bed, twisting his head around and staring at Cole, slightly gone out. His face fell when he realised who it was, staring at him solemnly from his position in the doorway.
“You’re back,” He murmured, twisting himself around fully so he was looking at Cole. Properly this time.
“Yeah,” Cole said softly, stepping carefully around the rubble and decay scattered all over the floor, sitting down on Kai’s bed when he finally got to it, “What… What happened?”
Kai shrugged, not looking at Cole. His hair was slicked back, matted to his skull with grease. Pimples beginning to form on his face, the lack of skincare irritating his delicate skin. Cole would be lying if he said he didn’t look gross and smell just as bad, but that didn’t put him off. Obviously, something was wrong, what kind of a boyfriend would he be if he didn’t do anything.
“I just… started feeling empty. I don’t care about anything and I have no motivation to do anything but… I didn’t want to be a burden, and I knew that if you suspected anything you’d come back so I just played it cool. Half expected one of them to tell you but… I guess they didn’t want you cutting your trip short for me either,” He muttered sadly, still not making eye contact. He couldn't. Not in this state. He was disgusting. His breath stunk like he’d just eaten something that’d been dead for a while and he probably stunk like something that’d been dead for a while too. Despite barely leaving his bed, his face was gaunt, his cheekbones beginning to further protrude, this time to an unhealthy degree and his eye sagging, purple eyebags hanging down as if weighing down his entire soul.
“Oh firefly,” Cole mumbled, opening his arms and wrapping them around Kai’s shoulders and pulling him close, feeling as Kai slowly relaxed into his body, not moving his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Kai said softly into Cole’s chest.
“For what?”
“Not telling you. Lying to you.”
“I don’t care. You have nothing to be sorry for, you weren’t in the right headspace and still aren’t. But I’m home now, so I’ll help you get out of this. Have you been taking your meds?” Cole said, still speaking in hushed tones. He wasn’t 100% sure why, but it seemed to be comforting to him, so he continued doing it.
Kai shook his head slowly, knowing he was about to get lectured.
“Ok, that’d explain a lot. Let’s start with that then,” Cole said simply, standing up and looking down at Kai.
“What?” He said, confused as Cole looked down at him expectantly.
“Come on. I’m taking you to take your medication,” Cole stated, holding out his hand, “If I bring ‘em to you, you’ll not feel any better.” Kai sighed and took his hand, letting his boyfriend’s strong form pull him out of bed. He slumped over slightly, his legs barely able to keep him standing. Letting his arm hang limply, his hand barely holding Coles, they walked out of his room and to the kitchen. He wasn’t 100% sure he was even in the room with him, his mind fuzzing in and out of focus from his surroundings. One moment, he was in the kitchen with his boyfriend. Next, he was in his head, letting his thoughts run wild. The latter was less than ideal; especially without the prescribed dosage of antidepressants in his system; but he didn’t have the energy to care.
“Ok,” Cole said, putting 2 small pills down in front of Kai along with a cup of water, “Take them.” Kai nodded, letting go of Cole’s hand and picked up the tablets, sloppily placing them in his mouth and swallowing them with the cool water. It felt heavenly, rolling down his dry throat and even drier tongue, giving them a new lease of life.
“Better?” Cole said softly, taking Kai’s hand back in his own. Kai shrugged, leaning against Cole and closing his eyes.
“Don’t bother going back to sleep on my arm, there’s more,” Cole continued, firmly but lovingly. Kai knew it was for his own good but… he just wanted to get back in bed. There was an immovable weight on his chest, dragging him down and increasing the effort to keep himself upright. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could actually stay stood up.
“Ok, have you had something to eat today?” Cole asked, taking Kai’s other hand and looking at him softly. Kai nodded, looking back, but not quite meeting Cole’s eyes. His heart twisted with every beat in his chest; his stomach turning in knots. He knew he couldn’t give in and let him go back to bed- he’d never feel better while he’s in this state- but the look in his eyes. It was so… void. So tired. So… emotionless. Yet full of emotion. Twisting and turning. Hurt, anger, sadness and an utter lack of anything positive.
“Ok. In that case, only 2 more things. We’re gonna brush your teeth and shower,” Cole said, Kai’s face falling in desperation. Evidently, he didn’t want to do either of those things; but Cole knew full well that he wouldn’t do it of his own volition.
“Please, firefly. We can watch a movie or something after that. I just… want you to feel better. I’m doing this for your own good. Plus, I’ll help you. I won’t get in the shower with you, but if you need help with anything I’ll stay in the bathroom while you’re in there. Just… how about this. Just wash your hair. Then I can put some deodorant on you and wipe your face. Are you ok with that?” Kai nodded in response, eliciting a small smile from Cole.
“Good. I’m so insanely proud of you Kai, for working with me here. I know how hard it can be when you get like this so I know how much it’s taking for you to do this right now. So, I’m insanely proud of you for actually going along with me,” Cole said sincerely, raising his free hand and resting it on Kai’s cheek. Kai leant into his hand and smiled a small, but tired, smile, raising his own hand and resting it on top of Cole’s.
Walking towards the bathroom, Kai took a reluctant breath and stepped inside, Cole following soon after. Cole turned the water on, pulling the mildly disgusting shirt off of Kai and tossing it into the laundry basket, letting him take off his boxers. Slowly stepping into the shower, Kai winced as the hot water hit his skin, cascading down his body and washing any surface-level grime away. His arms were lead; his eyelids hanging heavily over his eyes. He couldn’t do this.
“Cole,” He said weakly, not moving from under the warm water, “I want to get out.”
“Come on Kai, don’t give up now,” Cole replied softly, moving towards the shower and opening the curtain, seeing the exhausted look in his eyes, “I’ll wash your hair. How about that?” Kai nodded slowly. Cole smiled, pulling his own shirt over his head and discarding it to the side, reaching around his boyfriend and grabbing the shampoo, making sure Kai’s hair was wet enough before applying any. He slowly massaged it into his skull, looking down from his hair to Kai every so often to give him a comforting smile. Kai sighed contently, feeling the first bout of comfort; and even the first sliver of joy; in days. The feeling of Cole’s fingers on his head… knowing he was here and he was ok and alive. He was alive. Cole was here. The steady scratching and rubs keeping him grounded.
Quickly washing the shampoo out of Kai’s hair and turning off the water, Cole smiled, taking Kai’s hand again and leading him out and towards the sink. Cole grabbed his robe from the back of the door, bundling Kai up in it to assure he stayed warm. Cole laughed a little, looking down at Kai’s short, thin figure wrapped in his large robe, like a baby in a teenagers coat.
“What?”
“You just look really cute. You know like when a little kid just gets out of the shower. Their hair’s all slicked back and their bathrobe is about 10 sizes too big?” Kai blushed and crinkled his brow indignantly.
“I do not look like a child, not all of us were blessed to be 6 foot you know,” He huffed, pulling the robe around himself tighter.
“Yes, you do! You’re my cute little baby boy!” Cole said enthusiastically, noticing the smallest of sparkes light up in Kai’s eyes again as he glared indignantly at his boyfriend. With a laugh, Cole grabbed Kai’s toothbrush, putting some toothpaste on it and splattering it with water.
“Open up baby boy!” Cole said with a grin. Kai rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, allowing him to quickly brush his teeth. Grabbing a face wipe from the cupboard, he gently scrubbed the grease off of his boyfriend’s face. Then, finally, he grabbed a can of deodorant and sprayed him all over, banishing any thought of odour away from their minds (and bodies). Cole grabbed his shirt from the spot on the floor where it had landed earlier and pulled it back over his head.
“Hair drying time now,” Cole said, grabbing a clean towel from the cupboard and laying it over Kai’s wet hair, gently beginning to rub it, dragging the worst of the moisture out. Kai sighed in contentment, feeling himself shake and move as Cole dried his hair, the rough towel feeling heavenly as it dragged along his scalp, massaging any worries or unnecessary emotions away. Now all he felt was a deep feeling of peace and quiet.
“Damn, I’ll rub your head more often, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy,” Cole said with a laugh, continuing to softly rub his head with the towel, unable to contain his laughter at the small noises of contentment coming from Kai. Eventually, he took the towel back off his head and smiled down at his boyfriend, ruffling his hair affectionately.
“Now we just need to get you some clothes, then it’s dumb movie time,” Kai smiled, his lips softly curving into a smile; a real one.
“Can I wear your clothes?” he said softly, his voice still hoarse from barely speaking this last week.
“Of course firefly, it’d be rude of me not to!” Cole said lightly, taking his hand and leading him to his room, immediately grabbing his largest hoodie and sweatpants. He helped Kai put them on and stared down at him in awe.
“You. Are. So. Damn. Small!” Cole said happily, looking at his boyfriend’s small frame being taken over by his large clothing.
“No, you’re just too big,” Kai said indignantly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of the hoodie.
“You know I mean it lovingly, you just look too cute in my clothes,” Cole gleamed, his face lighting up in pure delight. Kai said nothing, just let out a small giggle, his face glowing crimson.
“Now come! My sweet little baby boy! We shall watch dumb movies made for people 10 years younger than us until you feel better!” Cole exclaimed, sweeping Kai off his feet and holding him bridal style, carrying him towards his own room where he dumped him on the bed, turning on the TV and preparing for at least a day of watching weird movies and enjoying each others company.
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all-about-seggs · 4 years
Text
Naughty & Not Nice :
Rating : ❌ 18+, Explicit❌
Pairing : Timeskip! Bokuto Kotaro x female reader
Word count : 1.6K
Warnings : Shower sex, Semi-public sex, cunnilingus, ass eating? (If there is a word for it please let me know, I'm an idiot), unprotected vaginal sex, established relationship, everybody's horny.
A/n: Bokuto is usually babiee but not here. I'm gonna make up for the lack of filth with this one👍🏼
P.s. this fic made me realise I'm better at writing porn without plot because you'll be able to see how much I struggled with making this a meaningful story rather than just random fucking༎ຶ‿༎ຶ
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It never failed you amaze you how much of a bigshot your himbo boyfriend had become. The high ceilings of the gym appeared never-ending just like the trail of volleyballs being smacked from side to side as you walked into the National team’s training area. Looking around one more time, you do a double check of the gigantic space to spot your hyperactive and simple minded fool. It wasn’t a difficult task to begin with considering his need to stand out no matter where he went but even with all the activities going around you the gym felt oddly quite without the usual chirping of Bokuto.
In the corner, you saw a deflated boyfriend, pouting as he yelled something about taking a shower to cool down. Having assessed the situation, you figured that if you wanted to have a happy evening together after so many weeks of hair on fire busy workdays, you had to come up with a way to lift his spirits. Luckily it was never a difficult task, especially for you.
Now that you managed to enter the private shower room, you thought rationally about your plan. Going in the shower stall to give Bokuto a naked surprise seemed hot and all but it had waaaay too many risks and it was totally reckless, your train of thought kept going in the negative slash realistic direction but your hands didn’t deter as you kept on undressing yourself in haste, shoving all your cloths in your bag and putting it aside in a corner.
The broad shoulders and well knit muscles of his body even made his silhouette ten times hotter than any other guys you’d ever seen, the steam coming off from the shower only added to the heat rising inside you. Steeling your nerves you enter the space already cramped by the herculean built of your boyfriend Not wasting another second you softly pressed your naked body on his, earning a questioning Yelp from the male.
“ WOAH- w- wait! I have a girlfr-“
“SUSHH -I AM your girlfriend idiot!”, Cutting him off you quickly turned him around to face you. All his protests died in his mouth when he saw your naked form on full display, even if it was his body that resembled some Greek god that you were too starstruck to remember the name of.
“I heard you wanted to cool down, but I suppose that won’t be happening now” turning the shower off, you stare at him. With a dazed look Bkuto raises one hand and touched your hips, feeling you up a little as if checking whether he’s dreaming or not.
“ Y/n! What are you- wait no- why are you here?! It’s the guys shower room!”, his hushed panic was adorable but what’s more amazing is his inability to take a hint until everything is spelled out.
“ Well I’m here so we can get a head start on our evening”, trailing one seductive finger down his defined abs, you give him your sexiest upturned eyes, punctuating your sentence with a firm squeeze of his balls. A few seconds pass, leaving you in wonder if he’s still gonna argue but the very next moment, his confused face takes on a look seriousness making his already sharp features seem downright animalistic.
Bokuto turns you around abruptly, bringing your warm face flush against the cool tiles of the wall, kneeling down, he gently parts your ass cheeks to give it’s hole a smooth lick all the way to your other sopping hole beneath. He gives your ass a few more licks before his hands starts fingering your aching pussy. Two long and thick digits enters you, the stretch making you moan as his fingers pushes in and out relentlessly while his mouth bite down your ass cheeks firmly. His teeth probably left marks by the time he finished sucking on the flesh, you bury your ass further down his face, wanting to feel more of his tongue on any one of your hole.
He finger fucks you while eating your ass at the same time humming softly like he’s devouring a five course meal. The uninhibited moans from falling from your mouth ricochets off of the bathroom walls only urged Bokuto to continue his ministrations. Knees shaking your first orgasm of the night washed over you until you’re shuddering, making it a necessity for your boyfriend to get up from his sitting position and take you in his strong muscular arms.
He lifts you, coming up face to face you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the tiny shower room, this was the quietest you’ve ever seen him. Usually when the two of you are doing it, Bokuto is always the one praising you, asking you whether he’s making you feel good or not, his silence indicated that the next few hours are gonna be rough for your pussy but you’ll definitely enjoy every second of it. You let him carry you towards the small bench just outside the shower stall, the risk of being found out doubled but the heat inside your body was far from over.
Placing you on the low surface he pressed your thighs against your chest and settled himself in between them he gave your wet cunt a few hard sucks , with his palms holding your legs firmly in place he lapped at your juices for until you begged him to fill you up.
“I hope you’re ready y/n….. I can’t promise if I can be gentle today”, his growled out, stroking his erection in his palm. It already looked so hard, it was getting physically painful to have pussy empty when you had something so delicious right in front of you. It didn’t mattered if you tore you half, the lust took over your mind the moment you saw his toned body that practically spelled ‘fuck me’ in all caps at that.
“you don’t have to…… so please wreck me like you usually do”,with one final nod from you, Bokuto pushed his entire length inside you pussy with ease, the slick from your previous orgasm making it easier from his aching cock to slide in and out. His starting pace was brutal, balls slapping your ass along with the squelching sound of his member drilling into you filled the entire room. But the most erotic sounds? Those were coming from your boyfriend’s mouth as kept fucking you, the bench creaking with each powerful thrust from his hips.
Your already sensitive cunt reached its peak a lot sooner than you imagined but it wasn’t going to be your last either so you let yourself go, enjoying the euphoric feeling to the fullest while Bokuto railed you through it. Your now clenched pussy added more pressure on his cock, pulling him closer to the edge as well. You could feel the cum pooling right below your ass when the hot blooded male lifted you up in the heat of the moment. His throbbing cock still inside you he took your quivering body to the nearest wall, your body wrapped itself around him as he kept up with thrusts without stopping.
Cock twitching, it was obvious he was near, his long awaited orgasm made his entire body tense up as he cums inside your cunt. The warm thick fluid drips down from where you two are attached, but the blissful feeling of being so spent made the both of you blank out until it passed away. After the both of you caught your breaths Bokuto put you back on the ground,
“You okay y/n?”, his concerned tone made you heart melt, even though you did this on your own accord he always worries about being too rough.
“I’m okay Kou, don’t worry but I think we should clean up before anyone sees us with our asses hanging out”, with a few more reassuring words you both took an actual shower this time and hurriedly dressed up before getting out of the bathroom. Just as you were about to feel accomplished on successfully pulling your moody boyfriend out of his emo modes again his fidgety behaviour caused to ask him what’s wrong.
“ I can’t wait till we get home babe”, his confession spoken with a pout wasn’t that out of place but it was because you couldn’t wait that you had sex in the shower room in the first place. Who were you kidding though, it’s a given that there is no such thing as just a round 1 with the ball of energy that you were dating. Besides it’s not lie you weren’t carving him,
“Okay. Lets do it a lot when we get home!”, The matter of fact answer definitely did it’s job if your previous fucking didn’t.
“Then you need to conserve your energy,” exclaiming that Bokuto picked you up bridal style, eyes shining with a new light. Despite your protests he carried you out in his arms, only to find a grossed out and scowling Sakusa shooting daggers in your direction from across the gym.
Never one to talk a lot, the curly haired teammate’s expression made it clear you two ‘did’ got caught and by the worst person ever. It’d be understandable if he never went to that shower room again but your embarrassment was cut off when Bokuto started sprinting towards the door. To any bystanders your shenanigans would probably be annoying but as you exited the building all you could hear was the cheering and goodbyes of all the people who were used to it.
The wonderful friends who put up with your antics, the loving boyfriend who didn’t left a single opportunity to parade you around like the greatest treasure in the world and the growing darkness of the night that brought so many salacious promises were all that you needed to call this a good day.
103 notes · View notes
lyssismagical · 4 years
Text
evermore
Just a Solid Vent Fic 
I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho 
 *
As a compromise for Tony not being able to pay Peter’s tuition to MIT thanks to his full ride, Tony bought an apartment right beside campus for Peter to live in, to ensure no awkward adventures trying to be Spider-Man with a roommate.
Peter’s still adamant about getting a job and paying for his food, phone bill, and any other things like clothing or entertainment.
And balancing classes, patrolling, and a job, isn’t easy, of course. But it’s always been better for him to work hard than to give himself time to think. It’s not like his mental health is on hold, but it’s easier to put it aside when he’s got so much to do all the time.
It doesn’t help that he’s also on the debate team thanks to MJ, and in the robotics club thanks to Ned.
When November rolls around and it brings the final projects, Peter pushes himself to the limit to keep up with everything.
He starts dropping his sleep to only a nap whenever he can squeeze it in, working all afternoon, classes all morning, and Spider-Man all night, and he starts making up excuses for anything that isn’t a number one priority.
He stops seeing his friends, stops calling May back, stops replying to Tony’s worried texts, stops helping out with his professors or the librarian or his classmates. He stops cleaning his apartment, letting dishes pile up on the counters and laundry go unwashed.
It’s bad, and he knows that, rationally and logically, he knows.
But that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.
Three weeks, he tells himself.
And he keeps pushing.
MJ shows up at his apartment out of the blue when he’s studying away, and he barely manages to clear the fog in his head to stumble for the door.
“I can’t talk right now,” he says before she can even say hello. “I’ve gotta study for my physics exam.”
“No, you’ve gotta chill the fuck out.”
He shakes his head, leaving the door open as he turns his back and heads into his kitchen for a quick snack so he can get back to his work. “No, I have to study.”
“Oh my god, you live in a garbage dump,” she says, eyes going wide as she takes in the state of his apartment. “When was the last time you washed a dish? Or, gross, your hair?”
He doesn’t bother responding, rolling his eyes and downing a protein bar. “Two weeks, now, and then I’m done for a month.”
“At this rate, I don’t know if you’ll make it through the next two weeks.”
Peter can’t help but roll his eyes again, part of him hating how much he’s lashing out despite wanting help, needing help, but unable to find the strength to stop it from happening as he brushes past her again.
“I know you’re stressed, I know you’re anxious about exams and papers and labs, but, seriously, Peter?” she says, following him to where he’s working in the living room, papers and binders and textbooks strewn across every surface. “You’re a genius, okay? You’ve been getting excellent grades all year. The only reason you might not do well on these projects is because you’re working yourself to death.”
He shakes his head, feeling very suddenly like he might cry. “It’s not that easy. Just… I don’t want to deal with this right now, okay?”
MJ doesn’t take that as a good answer, though, sitting beside him on the old couch. “I know you, okay? I know you better than most people do. I’ve seen you in some of the worst states you’ve been in. I know this. You can’t pretend that this is okay or normal or that this is you doing fine. I don’t believe it for a second.”
He opens his mouth to fight back, to argue, to try to convince her otherwise, or maybe just to kick her out. But he hesitates.
After the Snap’s reversal, she was the one who devoted all her time to taking care of him. He was such a mess of PTSD and depression and emptiness, but she was there. She kept the lights on for him, she brought him food and water, held him after nightmares, talked him down from panic attacks every other day. She was there, despite everything, she was always there.
Tony was too far and he never wanted to bother May, so he regularly would drop by her fire escape where she would patch him up after patrols, and occasionally, let him sleep next to her and make sure to get him to school on time.
She’s always been there.
She’s held him together, kept him sane, helped him through it all.
It wouldn’t be fair to get pissed.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, shoving a hand through his mess of greasy, tangled curls. “I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m drowning.”
And she nods because she’s always understood, always known what he means. She puts her hand over his. “You deserve a nap. C’mon.”
He goes to shake his head, looking to where his lab is only half-done, he’s only a few chapters into the textbook to get prepared for his exam, rough notes scribbled out for a paper.
“No, c’mon. You’re taking a nice nap. You deserve it,” she repeats, tugging more insistently at his wrist.
But he shakes his head this time, pulling his hand away. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”
“Peter-”
“I’m serious, if I take a nap or a break or take a second to breathe, I will crumble and I won’t be able to put myself back together in time for these due dates. I won’t get back up. I just-” He stops, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his wet eyes. “I need to keep pushing for the next two weeks and then I can fall apart.”
MJ shakes her head, fingers wrapping around his thin wrist. “That’s not healthy. And it certainly wouldn’t be right for me to let you do that.”
“I’ll fail my classes if I don’t do well on these assignments and exams. I need to keep going. I know it’s bad, but if I get into bed, I will fall into a slump and I won’t get anything done.”
Surprising both him and what seems like herself, she nods, holding onto him a little tighter like he’ll disappear before her very eyes. “Fine. But I’m going to stay here with you and make sure you don’t die over the next two weeks, alright? And you have to listen when I tell you to eat or watch stupid reality TV shows with me.”
He hums out an agreement, letting himself slump into her side, eyes focusing in on his mess of homework laid out before him.
“Come on. Step one, is getting you showered and in clean clothes because you smell like you spent the night in a dumpster.”
*
MJ does exactly as she promised she would. She calls it a ‘mental health sleepover’ and they set up camp in the living room.
She calls in sick for him at work for most of the week, telling them that he caught the flu and wouldn’t be back until after his exams, and even then, he’d already booked most of Winter Break off to go home to New York.
There wasn’t much she could do, in all honesty, it wasn’t like she could force him to sleep or take a break without a fight, but she could make him healthy meals and stop him from going out patrolling, which was enough to take a big load off his shoulders.
And she occasionally can convince him to watch those dumb reality TV shows, which occasionally makes him fall asleep on the couch for at least an hour or two.
It helps, of course, but it doesn’t solve any of the problems.
As soon as he’s finished exams, he’s going to drop, he’s going to fall, he’s going to drown, let the waves take him.
And nobody will be able to help him then.
“I booked your flight home,” MJ says over dinner and while he’s finishing up his lab report. “My flight’s a few hours after yours, so I’ll be with you until you board and then the Starks will pick you up.”
“Thanks. I really owe you one,” he says, only half-listening as he starts on his paper.
She grabs him by his shoulder and makes him turn to her laptop screen. “Say yes to the dress time. Your paper can wait a bit.”
“There’s only so much I can procrastinate,” he says but he’s already closing his laptop and tucking himself into her side, and shoulders finally relaxing.
She starts the episode, on a low volume, and presses a quick kiss to his temple.
By the time they’re onto the second episode, Peter’s slurring out his insults to the dresses some of the women pick, making fun of the different styles, and blinking getting longer and longer.
“That neckline?” Peter goes, giggling into MJ’s shoulder. “Especially with those shoes?”
“You’re a bitch.”
“I know, but seriously?” he laughs again, a little window into the person he once was. “I mean the first option wasn’t bad, but the choice of a grey dress in the first place…”
MJ’s voice goes all soft and gentle when she next speaks up, “Come on, go to sleep, you can afford to take a little break.”
And he nods sleepily against her shoulder, tucking himself just a little closer, making himself small against her side. It’s simple, for now.
*
As soon as he’s done his last exam, he can feel the adrenaline wearing off, disappearing from within him, all energy draining from his very veins.
He goes straight home afterwards, ignoring everybody who tries to stop him for a chat. And as soon as he makes it to his apartment, he goes straight to bed, tugging the sheets right over his head.
He shouldn’t do this, he knows. He should call MJ, ask that she drop everything for him again because he can feel himself slipping, but he won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t even know when the last time he saw his phone was, let alone have the effort to leave his blankets and try to find it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have it in him to care.
He feels empty and exhausted and strung out. Carved hollow. Putting everything he has into the past few months, he feels like he has nothing left to give.
There’s a knock on his front door, but he doesn’t move.
A few minutes later, his phone rings, somewhere in another part of the apartment. It rings again and again, a symphony for him to pass out to.
*
Time passes strangely when he’s this deep in a depressive episode. He doesn’t know how long he’s been huddled under his blankets, hiding from the world. It could’ve been anywhere between a couple hours and a few days, he doesn’t know.
His phone continues ringing, far away and echoing through his dreams, tears sliding down his cheeks at random intervals, hands trembling where they’re tucked under his chest.
He feels like he’s drifting away, collapsing into himself, fading away into nothingness.
He feels empty, hollow, gone.
He gave everything he had into school and work over the course of four months, and he has nothing left to give anymore. He’s nothing more than an empty well.
And he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to pull himself together, pack, get a flight home, and pretend to be one hundred percent for Morgan.
He’d rather just die here, in this cave he’s built, ghost-like and fading away already, than have to face another soul.
*
When he hears his front door unlocking, he knows he should be worried. Nobody has a spare copy of his key except for Ned, who already went home to New York a few weeks back.
He knows it should be at least a little concerning that somebody is breaking into his apartment, but he can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t have the energy to move or hide or try to protect himself.
He just curls up a little tighter and hopes that this won’t be his last day.
“Peter?”
He lifts his head, just enough to see over his cave of his blankets.
And standing in his bedroom doorway is Tony.
“Hi,” he breathes, curling up a little tighter, knowing he’s safe.
Tony slips into his room and sits at the end of his bed, one hand on Peter’s ankle. “MJ called when you wouldn’t answer your phone or let her in. She knew something was up.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I saw something like this coming after you finished your senior year and spent two weeks sick and depressed. I thought you’d be home in time before you started feeling so run down, but I guess I was wrong.”
Peter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that, so instead he lets his head fall into the pillows again.
“I’m not going to make you do anything yet, I think you could use a bit more time here. Though, Morgan thought two days sleeping was plenty, I think another one might do you well. But tomorrow, we’re going to get you fed and showered and your apartment clean, and then this weekend, we’ll get a flight home. Sound good?”
He nods, though he’s pretty sure he would agree to pretty much anything so long as the decisions are taken out of his hands.
“Come here,” Tony murmurs, sliding into the space beside Peter, arms open. Peter finally feels at home when he crawls into the awaiting hug. “MJ mentioned Say Yes to the Dress bingeing, you feel up for making fun of more dress choices?”
Peter laughs half-heartedly against Tony’s chest, tucking himself into him like a child would, and nods, breathing in the soothing scent of motor oil and expensive cologne.
He knows he’ll fall apart again, he knows that it’s not going to be a permanent solution, but the time being, he has Tony’s arms around him, a reality TV show quietly keeping them company, and the relief of having time to feel miserable before he has to pick himself up, it’s enough for now. It’ll be enough.
He’ll be okay with people like Tony and MJ at his side.
He’ll be okay.
Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @fancyxparker  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}
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Text
Knocked Up
Pablo and reader grow in their relationship and possibly their family.
Listen to this Kings of Leon song while you readdd
Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, some slightly graphic language, mentions of unprotected sex, pregnancy
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*******************************************************
The last few weeks you spent in Canada with Pablo and his two boys had been amazing. At first you were apprehensive about going on a trip with just him and his kids because you hadn't spent much time with them. Plus, you didn't want to be the stereotypical younger girlfriend that tags along and makes family trips awkward.
"The boys think you're cool. It'll be fun for all of us to spend time together. Trust me, babydoll," Pablo had told you while you were laying in bed the night before you left California.
Thankfully he was right. You got a chance to be with Pablo without all the distractions that were in LA and a chance to really get to know his kids. When you had first started dating Pablo, neither of you were sure if it was gonna be a lasting relationship or just a brief fling, so you agreed that you wouldn't meet his children until you got serious. Without expecting it, you fell quickly and deeply in love within 10 months of being together.
You were on an early morning hike with Pablo on a beautiful trail in the hills when you both decided to take a break and sit on the grass, looking out at a gorgeous wooded area. He had taken his shirt off and beads of sweat glistened off his back, chest and arms. You found his love of nature and being active so sexy— you laid your head on his damp shoulder and let out a contented sigh. "I'm so glad we came here," you said. "I feel like this is the life I wanna live."
"Me too," he said. "It's weird...I never thought someone could just fit in our family, but you do, y/n."
The sun was getting hotter as it got later in the morning, so the two of you decided to head back to the cabin you were staying in because the kids would be awake soon. You made a beeline for the shower because, well, you were in dire need of one after that hike. Peeling off your leggings and tank top and then feeling the cool water against your skin was an unmatched feeling. After a few minutes you heard a light knock on the bathroom door and Pablo asking "Ok if I come in?"
"Yeah, babe," you shouted so he could hear you. You figured that maybe he had to pee or wanted to brush his teeth or something. Instead, he opened the shower curtain and soon he was in the shower right behind you, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder. He grabbed the bottle of body wash that was nearby and said "Can I get under the water baby?" You switched spots with him so he could rinse himself off too.
"Rose hip oil? What the hell does that do?" He was reading the bottle of body wash in confusion.
"I don't know, but it smells good, right?" You replied.
He stepped closer to you so that his chest was touching yours and said "You smell good" with a very sly smile. "Ah so that's why you came in here," you said with a laugh. "You sneaky bastard." Pablo grabbed you and started kissing you as if he were in need of air and you were the only supply of it. His hand traveled down to your ass, then wandered between your legs. His dick was hard against your thigh and he whispered lustfully on your ear "You're so beautiful, honey. Let me show you how beautiful you are." Between heavy kisses you managed to say "Oh, baby I want to but I can't right now." You and Pablo both had very high sex drives and there was rarely a time when the two of you didn't feel like having sex...except for when you were ovulating. That was a time when the two of you were very careful and refrained from being together during that window of time because you weren't on birth control and you hadn't had a conversation about having children together yet. Hell, you were just now becoming comfortable with the two children that he had.
A look of understanding spread across his face, and he grabbed your face in his hands then kissed your forehead then your lips. "Alright sweetheart. How about I make you breakfast instead? What do you want, we got just about everything in the kitchen..."
"Surprise me," you said with a smile. He jumped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, leaving you to relax some more and exfoliate.
Fresh out of the shower and dressed in a pair of shorts and a comfy sweatshirt, you went into the kitchen to see what Pablo was cooking. "Blueberry or pecan?" He asked. Waffles. "Hmm...both!" The boys were at the other end of the house in the living room playing video games, but even though they weren't close by he lowered his voice when he said "So about earlier...would it be so bad?" Pablo did this sometimes, speaking as if you already knew what he was talking about without actually explaining first and you'd have to reel him in. "Babe, did you have the first part of this conversation without me?"
He put some freshly made waffles on a plate and started making more. "Remember in the shower earlier? When you said you couldn't..." he raised his eyebrows at the risk of the kids somehow hearing his say the word 'sex'. "Would it be so bad if we did... had a baby?"
You almost choked on the coffee you had been sipping. Of course you loved him and you wanted kids, you always had, but you had no idea he had even thought about having more. After taking a second to gather you thoughts, you said "You want another baby?"
"I mean, yeah. I never really put a time or intention on it because I haven't been in a serious relationship in a while, but it's something that's always been in the back of my mind. I don't wanna freak you out if it's too soon for you to think about...but I can see that for us. What if we had alittle girl that looks just like you?"
Hearing him talk like that made you emotional for some reason. It was the thing everyone who wants a family wants to hear their partner say. You got up and hugged him from behind as he continued to cook and kissed his shoulder.
"So you're open to it?" He asked sheepishly.
"Mhm," you said, smiling. He turned around and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.
"Boys, breakfast is ready. Come & get it!"
*************************************************
To put it simply, you felt like shit. You had notoriously bad periods and you could definitely feel it coming on. It was a about a week late but along with being generally awful, your periods were also unpredictable. The strange part was that you didn't have cramps, but we're extremely nauseous and overall weak. You and Pablo were still in Canada and it'd been about two weeks since you had agreed that a baby was in the cards for y'all. He joked that the two of you should start "trying" but you'd been feeling so terrible lately that you barely had the energy to do the day to day activities you guys usually did with the kids, like hiking, riding dirt bikes and watching movies, let alone have the kind of energetic sex you and Pablo usually have.
Pablo and the kids were about to head to the store to stock up on some more food and supplies for the cabin. He came into the room you shared where you'd been laying down and watching 13 Going on 30 on TV to distract you from how gross you felt. He crouched down next to the bed and rubbed your head.
"Is there anything you want me to grab for you at the store? I hate seein you like this, honey."
Somehow in that moment, it all clicked. You felt dumb for not realizing what the cause of your sickness probably was. Without even really thinking it through, you blurted out, "I think I need a pregnancy test...kind of...I think!"
"You think you could be pregnant?" He asked with innocent excitement growing in his voice.
"I mean, I wouldn't quite rule it out."
About an hour later the three of them had returned and after making the boys a quick snack to hold them over before dinner, he brought a plastic bag into your room and sat on the bed. "Alright, my lovely," he said, pulling out a ginger ale, some sour gummy worms for your nausea and...the pregnancy test. Two of them, as a matter of fact. "I have an idea, but let me know if you're not up for it: you take both the tests, leave them in the bathroom, then me and you go for a walk outside and when we come back we can look at it together."
"Let's do it," you said, pulling on some shoes and a hoodie to protect you from the brisk night air.
The sky was a gorgeous orange, yellow and faded purple, the perfect backdrop for a sunset. You and Pablo walked hand in hand through the nearby wooded area, taking about the possibility of you carrying your first child together and how thrilled his boys would be. As you walked and talked, time got away from you and nearly an hour had passed when you decided it would be best to head back. You sent Pablo to the bathroom to go get the tests and bring them to out to the front porch where you'd both decided to sit to look out at the stars.
"You ready?" He asked, reaching out for your hand. You grabbed it and rubbed his hand with your thumb. You turned over one test and he turned over the other at the same time.
Pregnant and pregnant.
Your eyes welled up with tears immediately and you covered your mouth with your hands. He reached over and grabbed you into a bear hug, kissing the top of your head and peppering your face with kisses.
"Baby, how do you feel?" You asked him, your voice muffled by the jacket he was wearing.
"Let's do it, sweetheart."
He grabbed you and lifted you up, carrying you into the house bridal style. The love in both of your eyes was enough to last a lifetime. You couldn't wait to grow your family with him and give the boys a little sibling
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skullrock · 4 years
Text
the bath
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pairing: Steve x Reader
summary: Steve goes through some anniversary-related trauma. Reader helps him through it.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: mentions of PTSD
===
You sigh heavily as you open the door to your apartment, dropping your bag at your feet and shrugging your coat off. It was too cold for October, and you shivered as you kicked your shoes off. You make your way into the living room to find your boyfriend huddled up on the couch. He’s wearing an oversized grey hoodie and sweats, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days - because he hadn’t.
You approach carefully, afraid to wake him if he’s finally slept, but he stirs.
“Steve?”
He makes a weak noise in response, cuddling into himself more. You frown and sit in front of his reclined body, running your hand over his clothed shoulder. His face is pale, under eyes dark and sunken. His perfect hair flopped lazily over his forehead, flat on the top, as he hadn’t washed it in days. He didn’t have the energy to. He didn’t have the energy to do much at all the past week, his trauma overtaking his body. All he could do was think.
“You feelin’ any better?” you ask softly, though you know the answer.
He shakes his head. “‘m tired.”
“I know,” you coo. “Have you tried the sleep aids?”
Steve shakes his head once more, jaw setting. He didn’t want to take them because of the nightmares - that’s why he couldn’t sleep. All he could see was Barb, and her parents, and his pool, and Dustin’s torn up cat, and Demogorgons, monsters in lab suits, doctors with drugs. He swears he can feel the punches, taste the blood in his mouth. His body genuinely feels like it hurts - like the bruises on his ribs have formed again, sprouting blue and purple clouds across the skin of his torso. He feels dizzy, just as he did after Billy beat him, and after the artificial high from the Russians had worn off. His bones creak when he stands, his head pounds. He feels weak and sick and disgusting, hopeless, anxious, worn. When you’re gone, he cries; when you’re here, he’s silent. He keeps all the lights on in the house all hours of the day and apologizes profusely for it; he just doesn’t want anything sneaking up on him.
You understand.
“What can I do to help?”
A single shake of the head. “Nothin’.”
You frown and lean down, pressing a kiss to his earlobe.
“I’m gross.” He says it as a statement.
“No,” you say simply, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re cute.”
He smiles, but only slightly. “Wish I had the energy to stay in the shower longer than five minutes.”
You perk up suddenly, back straightening. “I have the perfect idea.” You jump up, leaning down to kiss the top of his forehead. “I’ll be back.”
He reaches for you, pulling you down. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be back so fast, you won’t even know I’m gone,” you promise, reaching for his pinkie with yours. “Half an hour, honest.”
Steve stiffens slightly. “Be safe.”
“You know I will.”
You run to the store, literally run, grabbing what you need. A couple bath bombs, some bath salts. A lavender scented lotion. Steve has hordes of high-end masks, so you skip on those, and run to get the ingredients for his favorite food and dessert. He usually likes to cook and bake, but you can manage. Probably. He was a damn good cook - you had nothing on him. But it’s the thought that counts.
You return with multiple bags, kicking the door shut with your feet. Steve’s brows quirk up as he hears you come in. “That was fast.”
“You know me,” you smile, rushing to put the food away before walking back to him. “I’ve got an idea.”
“I figured,” he says. He has the hood over his head so you can’t see his eyes or mouth, but you can hear the joke in his voice.
“What if I give you a bath?”
Steve stills, and then peaks through the hood. He stares at you for a long moment before asking, “Are you sure?”
“I want to,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. You press a kiss to his scarred knuckles. “Wanna take care of you.”
He pauses for a while longer before nodding gingerly. You help him up, first to sit and then to stand. He stumbles slightly and curses, his cheeks flushing from embarrassment. You stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
He reminds you so much of the boy he was, right now. His back hunches from the pain in his ribs. His shoulders slag from the lack of confidence. You can almost see the cuts and bruises on him, and it makes your stomach twist. Steve had pushed everything down quite well, all things considered - but when anniversaries come up, he reverts back into the scared and alone boy he was. And it kills you, because he’s the last person who deserves it.
You lead him to the bathroom with your materials and sit him on the toilet. You help him get his hoodie and undershirt off first, leaving him in his sweats. His eyes purposefully avoid the mirror, and it breaks your heart even more. You grab a washcloth and scrub his face with some water - he had, at least, been keeping up with washing himself. Then you grab one of his masks - a rose colored one, more expensive than your entire outfit - and begin to smooth it onto his face. He relaxes at the touch and smell, shoulders dropping, the crease in his forehead soothing.
“What’re you trying to say?” he quips. “Do I look that bad?”
“Christ, no,” you say. “As gorgeous as ever, Stevie. This is just… self care.”
He smiles slightly and you continue, washing the residue from your fingers when you’re done. You place two under eye patches onto him and he sighs, the smile growing.
“That feels so good,” he murmurs.
You can’t kiss his face, so you kiss the underside of his jaw, and his tension eases further. His hands flutter to your hips as you place another kiss onto the freckles that line his neck.
“‘m not trying to get freaky,” you whisper.
“Just want you close,” he replies.
You press one last kiss to his neck before pulling away and stepping to the bathtub. You run the water til it’s warm, and plug it. You sprinkle a few handfuls of bath salts into the water, and light a candle for him. You help hold Steve up as he steps out of his bottoms, and then help him step into the tub. A happy groan slips from his lips as he slides down, sinking into the water.
“Feel good?”
He hums happily and nods. He forces his eyes to flutter shut, knowing you’re at least here with him. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”
“You should,” you say. “You really should.”
Steve stays quiet, because he knows you’re right.
The salts in the bath slowly ease the tension and aches from his muscles, and the scent of the candle combined with the salts makes him feel a little more alive. You sit and watch his body relax, your own relaxing with it.
After a while, you grab the washcloth again, wetting it with warm water and heading over to remove his mask. You peel the under eye masks off and gently wipe the mask from his skin, revealing more radiant and plump skin underneath. “How do you feel?”
He hums once more. “Prettier.”
You giggle and push his hair back from his face with your hand, leaning in to give him a kiss. Then you grab a nail file and begin to file his nails, manicuring them as he usually does. You work on the hand closest to you, and then the other. Steve watches you the entire time, his eyes soft as you bite the inside of your cheek to concentrate on smoothing his nails down.
Steve knows, deep down, that he is worthy of love. You tell him every single day; Robin, Dustin, and the others reinforce it. Hell, even Mike Wheeler, Steve’s sworn enemy, has been there for him. He knows he’s better off than he ever was, even before the Upside Down consumed all remnants of a normal life. But it still feels bizarre, somewhere in the pit of his chest, to have people care about him. To have people look at him the way you look at him. And he never thought, in a million years, someone would file his nails, apply a face mask to him, and wash his hair with no judgement. But here you were, and here he was, and it was liberating and scary and so, so good.
You finish with his nails and he examines them, smiling softly before mumbling, “Eh, they’re okay.”
“Keep it up, and I won’t make you chicken alfredo,” you respond, and Steve slides down the bath in surprise.
“You - what the hell? It’s so expensive to make that -”
“You’re worth it.”
“No -”
“Yes,” you say, and your expression shuts Steve up. You reach up to twirl your finger through a lock of hair. “You ready?”
He nods, pushing himself up. You grab a large plastic cup and fill it with water. You put your free hand under Steve’s chin to tilt his head back before gently pouring the water over his head. He sighs at the feeling, happy once again, the feeling of warmth on his head relieving. You do this a few more times before grabbing his shampoo, a special kind, one he insists on using - which, you don’t mind, it smells like him. Sometimes you even sneak some to use, because you want the lingering smell of Steve on your hair for the day.
You begin to lather his hair, and his mouth drops. He leans back, his shoulders hitting the edge of the tub, and you giggle as you follow him. Little moans escape his lips - nothing quite sexual, just blissful. The week washes off with the shampoo, leaving him feeling clean and more awake, more alive. It also makes him feel vulnerable. His hair is his favorite feature, and not just anyone can touch it. But he feels safe with you, feels safe for you to see it greasy and flat, clean and sky high. He lets his guard down for the first time in a week, and almost feels ‘normal’ again.
You rinse the suds out and replace the shampoo with conditioner, applying it lightly, careful not to make it too greasy again. Steve smiles, because you’re doing it correctly and he didn’t even have to tell you. After a moment, you rinse it out with clean water. He reaches up and runs his hand through it, happy that it isn’t so heavy anymore.
“Better?”
“Much,” he says quietly.
You stand and get a fresh washcloth and get onto your knees again. The tile of the bathroom hurts, but you’d do it for him. You grab his body wash and he sort of gasps, brows creasing.
“You don’t gotta - I - it was just my hair -”
“Let me,” you say gently, and he relaxes.
You lather the cloth and begin to wash him; slowly, in circles, over the expanse of his chest and shoulders, down his arms and into his hands. As you reach each part, you whisper praises - “your freckles are so beautiful”; “you’ve got the nicest arms I’ve ever seen”; “your hands are always so soft.” Steve fights back tears while you do it, sets his jaw tight so they don’t spill over, his tongue desperately pushing at the roof of his mouth. He wasn’t expecting this. Not that he doesn’t like it, he just wasn’t expecting the love that pours from you, even as you move over his ribs and legs and back.
You rinse him off with the cup again, running your hands over his skin, smooth and supple. Steve looks younger, like years have been washed away from him, and it makes you smile.
You help him get out, being sure that he doesn’t slip, as the water drains. You wrap a towel around him snugly and sit him on the toilet. You kneel in front of him and use another towel to dry his hair for him. He melts into your touch, leaning so far off of the seat that he almost falls. You push him back gently, smiling.
“Feels good,” he mumbles, smiling wider than he has in a while.
“I know how much you like your hair being played with.”
He nudges your foot with his. “You said you weren’t trying to get freaky.”
“I’m not!”
“Okay.”
“Just stating the facts.”
“Alright.” He smiles and leans in, catching your lips in his for the briefest moment. “If you say so.”
You pull back, frowning. “Hey,” you say softly, cupping his cheek. “Just rest, okay? You need to.”
He looks down. “I know.”
“I know it’s hard,” you whisper. “But I will be right beside you. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“That’s not entirely it,” he whispers. “What if they… get you?”
You’d thought about it, of course. After Starcourt, you were a mess, keeping the lights on in your own house, calling Steve at three in the morning - he was always awake. You weren’t immune to your own weeks of worry and anxiety-induced nausea. But you put on a brave face for Steve.
“They won’t,” you whisper back. “It’s over.”
“That’s what we always say,” he mumbles, looking away from you.
You cup his cheek and bring him back to looking at you. “It’s true this time. We’re safe.”
“But what if we aren’t? What can I do? How can I protect everyone?”
“You can’t,” you stress. “And that’s not a bad thing. Everyone is more than capable of taking care of themselves. Especially the kids.”
Steve sighs. “They could probably kill Satan with just a slingshot, huh?”
“They pretty much already have.” You smile sadly. “So have you. Three times over. That’s a lot of practice for fighting interdimensional beings, don’t you think?”
He shrugs and softly adds, “I gave them Dustin’s address, remember?”
You pause, not quite sure what to say. “Dustin’s not mad at you.”
“I know,” he says, voice hardly above a whisper. “But what if they….”
He can’t even finish the thought. His eyes prick with tears and he squeezes his eyes shut.
You wrap him up into your arms, hugging him as tightly as you can. You feel him shake beneath you, and he finally lets out a sob. He hadn’t cried around you much before - you knew he did cry, you just never quite saw it. It makes your stomach drop, but all you can do is hold him, let him bury his face in the crook of your neck and cry.
“‘m sorry,” Steve hiccups.
You pull back. “For what?”
He looks like he has a hard time articulating. “For… for crying. For being like this.”
“Like the man I love?”
“Stop,” he hisses. His eyes soften immediately afterwards, welling with tears again. “Christ, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean -”
“I know,” you whisper. You wrap your fingers through his and squeeze. “I know, Steve. Can I get you dressed?”
He nods numbly and you lead him to your shared bedroom, grabbing him a clean pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He pulls them on gingerly, and you pull him to bed after, tucking him in.
“Stay,” he whispers, voice cracking and eyes pleading.
You slide under the covers with him, and he holds you closely, tightly, almost cutting off your breathing. He mumbles apologies into your hair, and you reach to his side to lightly pinch a sensitive spot.
“Hey.” You look up at him. “You better stop being sorry. I mean it.”
“But -”
“Genuinely nothing you do or say is going to make me get up and leave. Nothing. Not a thing. Because I know who you are, and I know who you’ve been. I know you don’t mean to snap. I know you’re scared. And that’s not grounds for apologies.”
He frowns. “I just don’t want to push you away.”
“I know it’s hard right now.” You reach up and push his hair away from his face again. “But I will be patient with you because I love you and you deserve it. You deserve the world.” He opens his mouth to protest again, but you press a finger to his lips. “No. I am going to go make you good food and dessert, and then I’m going to hold you all night. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says behind your finger.
You remove your finger and kiss him softly. “Take a nap, okay? I’m up, I’m here. I’ll protect you tonight.”
He squeezes you. “Promise?”
“Swear,” you reply. “Now let me go make you decent food, okay?”
“Okay,” he repeats quietly.
You don’t move for a moment. Finally you whisper, “I love you more than anything in the world.”
“I love you,” he whispers. “My everything.”
“No, you.”
Steve smiles and buries his face in your hair again. “No, you.”
===
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atlafan · 4 years
Text
Take it Slow - Part Eighty-Four
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: mention of past abuse. Slight angst, little bit of smut, and a ton of fluff. 
Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)
You had the perfect last morning at the beach. None of you wanted to leave, but it had to be done. You all help to pack up the cars.
“Before we all leave, I just wanna say thanks again for everything. This was the perfect weekend.” You say to everyone. Everyone says how much a good time they had too.
“I’ll see yeh at home, I’m gonna drop Niall off and go pick up Buster.” Harry says to you.
“Alright, baby.” You kiss him and climb into Sarah’s car.
Rachel was driving this time, so Mariah takes the passenger seat. You didn’t mind at all. You were exhausted and ended up falling asleep for most of the drive. Luckily it didn’t take much time at all to get back to the city since a lot of the traffic was going the other way.
You hug the girls goodbye and get all your shit upstairs. You weren’t sure if you wanted to wait to shower with Harry or not…but you felt gross from being at the beach so you opt to take a quick one. You throw on a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt and sit on the sofa. You go through a ton of the pictures that were taken over the weekend and post a good chunk of them. You hear the pitter patter of feet and you stand up immediately.
“Buster! Come to mumma!”
He runs over to you and you get on your knees so you can properly hug your fluffy boy.
“Jesus, we need to take him for a hair cut soon, huh?”
“I’ll say.” Harry chuckles. “Isaac said he was an angel, as always.”
“Oh good.” You look back at Buster. “You were a good boy while mummy and daddy were away, hm?” He licks your cheek. “Oh, thank you, so sweet.” You stand up and hug Harry. He wraps his arms around you. “Can we just chill for the rest of the day. M’craving some alone time with my boys.”
“That sounds amazing. Let me just grab a shower. I can see you already took one.”
“I wanted to wait for you, but I felt so gross.”
“It’s alright.” He smiles and goes down the hall.
“Come on Buster, let’s get cozy while we wait for daddy.”
Harry comes out a few minutes later in just a pair of boxers, finally feeling free to do so. He sits down next to you and puts his feet up on the ottoman.
“Sometimes I forget how much I actually hate wearin’ clothes.”
“Look at you, you tanned so well babe.” He looks down at himself.
“Guess I did, huh. You did too. Your burn faded really fast.” He pokes your cheek. “And you’re freckly, so cute.”
“Oh stop it.” You giggle.
He grabs the remote and turns on Netflix to pick up where you left off on Glee.
“I’m sorry, I just need to take a moment to document this. Are you voluntarily watching Glee?”
“I need to know if they win sectionals or not.” He says without looking at you and you burst out laughing. “This show is fuckin’ stupid and unrealistic, I can’t believe they got away with half the shit they’re doin’.”
“Oh honey, and we’re not even done with the first season yet. You’ve got a long way to go.”
“Well I’m strapped in so let’s go.” He hits play and yanks you closer to him.
“Wanna spoon?”
“Duh.”
You laugh and lay on your side in front of him. He lays behind you, keeping a hand on your hip and a leg between yours.
“We have some frozen meals in the freezer we can have for dinner later, I do not have the energy to shop and cook.” You tell him.
“Me neither.” He holds you a little closer as the episode really gets going.
“Woah, woah, woah, Finn’s not goin’!”
“He just found out everyone knew Puck is the father, and that Quinn’s been lying to him. You’d be pissed too.”
“Yeah, but now they don’t have enough people to go! What the fuck?”
A few more minutes pass and you hear Harry suck his teeth.
“Are you kiddin’ me?! That other school stole their routine, and now they have to do a bunch of unrehearsed numbers? This is bullocks.”
“Harry.” You turn to look at him. “Imagine watching this week to week. At least we can watch the next episode right away. This one ends on a cliff hanger.”
“Jesus, no wonder this used to work you up in high school, my fuckin’ heart is racin’.”
You and Harry easily watch four episodes of Glee because he just needed to know what happened next. But you both needed to take a break, and Buster needed to be taken out. You take him for a walk while Harry makes a couple of the frozen meals. You both sit on the sofa as you eat.
“You wanna watch more, don’t you?”
“No.” He scoffs. “Okay, why can’t we just finish the first season? I need to know if they win regionals or not. And if Finn and Rachel are gonna happen, this is very important.”
You nod and turn the TV back to Glee so you can continue watching together. It was a lot of fun to share something you loved so much Harry. Your phone goes off about halfway through the episode and you pause it to answer. It was Seth.
“Hey.” You say brightly.
“Hey! How was your weekend away?”
“Oh it was amazing!”
“What did Harry get you?”
“He’s flying my Nannie in for the Jewish New Year next month.” You say smiling.
“Wow! That’s awesome…so now that you’re back…”
“When are you free?” You giggle.
“Saturday?”
“That’s soon! I’ll have to check with Isaac, and Harry.”
“I know it’s short notice, but you’re making me wait over here.”
“Very true…alright. Let me get back to you tomorrow, I should have an answer. I think we were thinking of going to that adult arcade.”
“Oh that place is fun! Yeah, I’d be up for that.”
“Cool, I’ll text you later.
“Alright, see ya.” You hang up and look at Harry.
“Do we have plans Saturday night?”
“Guess we do now.” He huffs. “Sorry, can we go back to what’s important please?” He presses play so you can continue watching the show. You can’t help but laugh. You love him more and more every day.
//
You and Harry enjoy some nice, soft cuddles, opting in to turn in early for bed. You’re both just laying there, naked and tangled up in each other. His hand lightly dances over your skin, tracing your tan lines.
“It really was the perfect weekend, huh?” You say to him.
“Mhm. I’m so glad you had a good birthday.”
“I had the best birthday, thanks to you.”
“Hey, your friends helped too.”
“Yeah…but you just being you also made it great.”
He leans in and kisses you softly. You give him an Eskimo kiss and giggle. He squishes his nose to yours again and he giggles too.
“Wanna make love to yeh.” He whispers against your lips.
You hum your response and he brings your leg up over his hip. He slowly inserts into your warmth. You moan when you feel him slowly stretch you out. He slowly moves so he’s on his back and you’re on top of him. You dip your head down to kiss him as you move your hips in slow circles on him.
“God, you’re so wet.” He groans and rolls his head back.
His hands slide up your body and cup your breasts. He was being so light and airy with you, it was nice. You roll your hips down on him, and grind back and forth. You put your hands over his and he squeezes your breasts. He thrusts up into you and you fall on him so you’re chest to chest. His hands slide to your back, holding you even tighter to him.
“Want you on top.” You say into his ear.
“Want me on top, baby?”
“Yeah.” You whine.
You both roll over and he smiles at you, caressing your cheek as he rocks in and out of you. He takes one of your hands in his and intertwines your fingers. He rests it next to your head. His other hand snakes between the two of you so he can rub your swollen clit. His thumb rubs slow, precise circles just where you need it. You moan out his name and stick your tongue out so he’ll kiss you. His forehead was sweaty against yours.
“Feel so good baby, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.”
“Just feels so good, you’re so good Harry.”
You start clenching around him, he can tell you’re close. He rubs your clit faster as he thrusts deeper inside you. Your back arches as you release, and Harry’s isn’t too far behind. He kisses you deeply as he fills you up, and you swallow his moans. He pulls out of you and looks down, his eyes growing side.
“What is it?”
“Okay, don’t freak out…”
“Freak out about wh-“ You look down and see him covered in your period blood.
“Guess that’s why you felt so wet.” He smirks. “Did you know you were-“
“Please, I’m going to be sick.”
“Babe, it’s okay, I-“
“Harry, please.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I’m extremely embarrassed, and you’re covered, and oh my god.” You get off the bed and see splotches of blood. Your eyes grow wide. “Oh no.” You start breathing faster.
Your mind fills with flashes of that night, the remnants of your sheets afterwards.
“Oh no, what? Y/N?”
You screw your eyes shut, and see more, feel more. You feel a hand on your back and without thinking or even realizing where you are…
“Don’t touch me!” Smack. Your vision is hazy and you feel yourself lose your balance.
When you come to, you’re dressed in your comfiest pj’s and laying on the bed. It was stripped, you could feel your foam topper. You look over and see Harry sitting up against the headboard. He had an ice-pack pressed to his cheek and had his phone in his other hand, just scrolling.
“Harry?” He looks at you with concern, but a half smile. He sets his phone down on the night table.
“Hey baby…feelin’ alright?”
“What…happened?” You sit up and remember you got your period. You reach into your underwear and feel a bad and sigh.
“I, uh, hope I put it in there right…I read the directions on the box.”
“You put this on me?”
“Sort of had, to you wouldn’t wake up and I didn’t want you bleedin’ out. Sheets are in the wash. I would’ve put the others on, but I wanted you to lay down. You scared me…you wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Why do you have an ice pack on your cheek?” He peels it away and you gasp when you see how red his cheek is, a bruise forming.
“You…well, I think you blacked out and you slapped me.”
“I slapped you?!” Tears prick at your eyes.
“Yeah.” He looks down, and back at you. “But it’s okay!” He grabs one of your hands to try to soothe you. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Your eyes glazed over, it was like you were somewhere else, like you thought I was someone else.”
“Harry, I am so sorry. You have to know I would never, I mean, I know I get in people’s faces, but I am not a violent person, I, I, I-“ Your breathing starts to quicken again but he cups your cheek.
“Please, stay with me. You’re okay.” He kisses your hand. “I’m not mad, I was a little shocked, but it’s okay, really.” He gives you a reassuring smile.
“But your poor cheek…”
“It’ll be fine.” He sighs and puts the ice-pack back on. “Can you try to tell me what happened? Although I have an idea.”
“I think when I looked down at the sheets and saw all the blood…” You take a deep breath and you feel tears burn your cheeks. “I haven’t had a flash in a really long time, months…” You look at him and frown. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I feel terrible. I…”
“You were just defending yourself. I put my hand on your back to try to calm you down when I saw you breathin’ heavy, but you were too far gone.”
“What if someone thinks I’m beating on you or something?! You can’t go to work like that.”
“Baby, no one’s gonna think that. I’m keepin’ the ice on it for good measure. I’ll put some makeup on it tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”
The washer goes off and Harry gets up to go flip the load.
“Can I get you anything? Some water? Water’s probably a good idea.” You nod and he goes out to take care of things.
He comes back in with a glass of water and some other sheets. Buster comes trotting in. You pet him while you sip on your water, and Harry makes up the bed.
“All done.” He smiles at you. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”
“How are you so calm about all this?”
“Not my first time bein’ slapped by a woman.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Oh, Harry.” You can’t help but chuckle.
“There we go, gotcha to laugh.” He wraps his arms around you. “It’s okay. You’re okay, we’re okay. You didn’t purposefully try to hurt me.”
“Never.” You kiss him gently on the lips and sigh. “M’just gonna do my thing in the bathroom and then I’ll come to bed.”
You go in and sit down on the toilet. Harry actually did do a decent job of positioning the pad in your underwear. He was a saint, an absolute saint. You clean yourself up and stand to wash your face. You can’t help but cry again. For months you had been fine, more than fine. Now you can’t even see your own blood without freaking out? You take a deep breath and go back out to the bedroom.
“C’mere, angel. Let me holdja.”
You give him a small smile and get into bed. You go right into his arms and lay your head on his chest. He has one hand on your head, playing with your hair, and the other on your arm, rubbing up and down. He knew you were anything but calm.
“Listen, if you don’t wanna go to work tomorrow, you could always come with me…spend the day with Buster…”
“Harry, I’ll be just fine to go to work.”
“But if you’re still…you know…”
“I think after some sleep, I’ll be calmer. I’m more concerned about you.”
“I told you, I’ll just put some makeup on.”
//
You slept, but you felt like a zombie when your alarm went off. Suddenly going to work with Harry didn’t seem like such a bad idea, but you knew you couldn’t do that. You get up and shower. You blow dry your hair and throw a work-appropriate dress on. You put some makeup on and go to take Buster out. Back to your old routine. When you come back you go to the kitchen to make breakfast.
“Y/N?” You hear Harry call for your and go into the bedroom. You see the light on in the bathroom and go in there.
“What is it, doll?”
“Well, first, how are you feelin’?” He turns to look at you and you grimace when you see the bruise on his cheek. “It looks worse, I promise. It doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m okay…” He nods. You look to see he’s holding your liquid foundation. “Need some help?”
“A little…”
You sit up on the counter and he stands between his legs.
“I’ll have to put it all over so it blends more naturally. And then I’ll have to put some bronzer on. Your skin is so much darker than mine.”
“Do whatever you need.”
You can’t help but bite your inner cheek to keep from crying. How could you do this to him?
“I promise I’m alright, honey. Please don’t be upset.”
You nod and dab some of the makeup on him. Once you get it the way you like he looks in the mirror and gives you an approving look.
“Can’t even see it, well done.”
“You wear makeup well, Harry.”
“I do, don’t I?” He puckers his lips and looks away, trying to make a funny modeling face, making you laugh. You hop off the counter. He wraps his arms around you. “You call me if you feel weird at all today, alright?”
“Alright.”
“Bring Buster with yeh. You need him more than I do today.”
“Thanks Harry.”
//
It was one of those mornings where you and Niall weren’t able to carpool. You get up to your office and everyone is happy to see you. You were thankful it was Tuesday. You needed Dr. Mara today. When you get to your office you take a deep breath. You see Niall walk in with your coffee. Your bottom lip quivers and his smile fades immediately. He closes the door behind him.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, Niall!” You go over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. You sob into his neck.
“Hey! What’s wrong? What happened? Did Harry do somethin’?” You mumble no into his neck. “Y/N, please, calm down, just tell me what happened.” He rubs your back and you step away from him. Your eye makeup was all smeared.
He walks over to your desk to grab you some tissues.
“Thanks.” You blot your eyes. You shouldn’t have even bothered with mascara today. “We were having such a nice night last night. God, he was being so soft with me, it was so sweet.” Niall nods. “But when he pulled out…” You look down. “We realized I had…well…Aunt Flow…”
“Right.”
“I got up, and I looked at the sheets. It had gotten everywhere…and….God, Niall, it was bad it was so bad. I was completely brought back to that night, and I blacked out…I slapped Harry.” You voice cracks.
“What do you mean you slapped him?” He asks softly.
“I slapped him across the cheek and when he tried to calm me down. It was like I didn’t know it was him. I think I passed out too. When I woke up, I was all cleaned up and dressed, laying on the bed. And there he was, cool as a cucumber, with an ice-pack pressed to his cheek.”
“Is he alright?”
“Yeah, he was perfectly fine. He didn’t even wince when I put some makeup on him earlier…I felt terrible. I don’t even really remember doing it.”
“You’re seein’ Dr. Mara tonight?”
“Mhm.”
He nods at you and takes you in for another hug. Buster yips at the two of you.
“Shit, I think he needs to pee again.”
“Let me take him. You go to the bathroom and clean up.” He smiles.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
//
“Morning, Harry.” Isaac smiles. “No Buster today?”
“No I sent him along with his mum.” Isaac hands him his coffee. “Thanks.” He squints at him. “What?”
“Your skin just looks…different today.”
“Oh, I’ve put some makeup on, I broke out from wearin’ so much sunscreen over the weekend. Way too much oil in that shit.” He takes a careful sip of the coffee. “So, uh, Seth called Y/N yesterday. We were thinkin’ of gettin’ together Saturday night. What do yeh think of that? Know it’s last minute.”
“I think I’m free actually!”
“Oh, great!”
“I’m really excited, thanks again for being such a good sport.”
Mariah walks in next and her and Isaac run to each other to hug.
“Neither of you should be allowed to leave at the same time again.” He kisses her on the cheek.
Harry and Mariah have back to back clients all day. Everyone was scrambling to get their senior photos in. And there were engagement shoots after engagement shoot. Harry couldn’t wait for it to be his fucking turn.
You text him letting him know you’re bringing Buster to therapy with you. Harry decides to make sure that when you walked through the door, you’d be overwhelmed with all things good. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy session. He stops off at the drugstore and picks up your favorite kind of face-mask, and then he goes to one of your favorite restaurants to pick up one of your favorite meals.
When he gets home he grabs your nail kit and takes out your favorite colors. He sets everything on the coffee table. Next he fills a bin up with warm water and some soap. He sets that near the sofa on a towel. He was pretty proud of himself.
//
You were drained, spent really. Your session with Dr. Mara was good, but you cried more than you had in a long time. She let you get it all out. She wrote you a prescription that you weren’t sure you were going to fill. This was the first time you had even agreed to take something, but you never wanted to risk hurting the man you love most in the world ever again. You’d talk to Harry about it. Maybe he could go to the pharmacy with you so it wasn’t so scary.
You let Buster pee before getting him upstairs. You open the door and stop short when you see Harry walking out of the kitchen and lighting candles at the dining room table.
“You’re home!” He says brightly. “How’s my girl?”
“Um…okay.” He hugs you and pets Buster. “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’, just wanted to treat yeh.”
“You do enough of that.” You chuckle.
“Come on, I’m lovin’ on yeh, just humor me, hm?”
“Okay.”
He leads you to the table and you smile when you see a plate of raviolis from one of your favorite restaurants. Harry pulls your chair out and you sit down. You take a bite and close your eyes.
“So good, thank you.” You smile at him.
“You’re welcome. And after dinner I want you to go put your robe on and put your hair up.”
“Why, babe?”
“I’m gonna help yeh relax, so just do what I say.”
“Alright.” You giggle.
When you’re done eating you do as he says. You put your hair up into a messy bun and put your robe on. You come out to the living room and gasp when you see the set up.
“It’s like a little salon.” He says. “Sit down and put your feet in.”
“Harry…this is so sweet. I should be doing this for you though, I’m the one that-“
“You didn’t do anything.” He says a little too sternly. “Sit.”
You sit on the edge of the sofa and stick your feet into the warm water. Harry drags over the ottoman and sits in front of you. He takes all of the polish off your fingernails. He stands and grabs a warm cloth and dabs your face, getting all your makeup off, or what was left of it. He takes your small brush that you use for face-masks, and paints the clay on your face.
“You should do one too.” You say.
“Another time.” He smiles.
Once it’s on your face he sits back down and shows you the colors he picked.
“They’re perfect.”
“Want them on every other nail?”
“Mhm, just like yours please.”
He smiles and carefully paints the colors onto your nails. Harry’s never painted your nails before, you usually did his. He does a pretty good job, only has to redo one nail. He wipes the mask off your face when it’s time and dabs you softly to dry your face up. He gets behind you and rubs your face lotion in his hands. He massages it on and your lips part.
“Oh, wow.” You say softly. He smirks and continues rubbing it in.
“Feel nice, hun?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
When he sits back down he taps one of your knees to take your foot out of the bucket. He puts a towel on his leg and rests your foot on his thigh. He dries you off and takes the polish off your toes. He grabs some lotion and starts massaging your calf.
“Harry, you really don’t have to-“
“Y/N…” He says warningly, only glancing up at you for a moment. You sit back and let him continue. “Good girl.”
He paints your toes, and then does the exact same thing to your other leg and toes.
“Look at that, so pretty.”
He cleans everything up and plops down next to you when he’s done.
“Thank you, that was amazing. I thought I was going to melt into the couch.” You chuckle. He takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. “Harry…there’s something else I need from you.”
“Anything, angel.”
“Dr. Mara gave me a prescription for some medication. Something to help me…not get so freaked out.” You swallow. “I’m scared though. I’m not…strong enough to go to the pharmacy myself, and I’m terrified to see how some pills might change me. I could have mood swings, and who knows if they’ll even help.”
“Do you trust her?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
“Then…maybe it’ll be good for you.”
“I’ve been fine for months and I’ve been trying to figure out why. She said having Buster around has probably been a greater help than I realized. But after last night…I don’t want to ever put you through something like that again. I wanna be the best I can be, for the both of us.”
“I can go with you before work tomorrow if you want, get it filled out. I’ll be with you when you take the first dose too.”
“I can’t drink alcohol while I take them…”
“Does that make you feel sad?”
“A little…more for the social aspect. But I’d rather be my best than drunk so.” You chuckle. Harry wraps an arm around you.
“We’ll get through this together. You don’t have to deal with any of this alone.” He kisses your hairline.
“Harry…I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” You look up at him doe eyed.
He cups your cheek and leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back and put your hand on his cheek, but he winces.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Mind takin’ all this gunk offa me?”
“Not at all! In fact, I’ll put a face-mask on you too. And I’ll massage your face like you did mine.”
“Baby, I did all that-“
“It felt so good, I wanna do the same for you, please let me.”
He watches you walk off down the hall to your bedroom. He was nervous about you taking pills too, but if Dr. Mara thought it would help, who was he to tell you not to? You had done just about everything else you could do to help yourself. Now it was time to try another approach, and he’d be by your side every step of the fucking way.
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