#seeing it's meet the character monday i decided i would finally finish this post | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delphi-dreamin · 2 years ago

Text

I Just Wanna Be (The Girl You Like)

[Stream 3]

Delphi and Asmo go shopping, and someone sees something they probably shouldn't.

Characters: MC!Delphi, Asmo, Lucifer, Mammon

Relationships: Asmo x Delphi, Lucifer x Delphi (mutual pining)

Word Count: 3725

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Public sex (fitting rooms), voyuerism (non-consensual), use of toys, collaring (mentioned), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering

Notes: Continuing with the theme of me posting at ungodly hours of the night! I had this one finished and couldn't wait, so I decided to go ahead and post! Hope you enjoy!

Previous | Next

Monday - Afternoon

Boo💋: Sorry, kitten!

Boo💋: Diavolo called a council meeting!

Boo💋: I’ll pick you up from the house as soon as we’re done!

Me: That’s fine! Gives me time to shower and change, lol.

Me: Make good choices!

Boo💋: Never! ♡

Delphi chuckles, closing her D.D.D. and placing it on the charger on her nightstand. Mammon had told her about the meeting, but she’s glad that Asmo texted her. She does need a shower and wants to change before they go out lingerie shopping, anyway.

She pulls her toy case from under her bed and takes a small pink bullet vibe from it, then heads for the shower. The water is on, the mirror fogged over with steam, and she’s getting in by the time she wonders if she’d remembered to lock her door. Normally, she would. Normally, she’d even get out to double check. But the boys are still at RAD for a council meeting, so she tells herself it should be fine.

Delphi puts on her favorite playlist, singing through washing and rinsing her hair and washing her body. She checks the time before grabbing the bullet vibe from the bathroom counter. She has twenty minutes before Asmo should be getting home, would normally be getting home from a council meeting.

She leans against the wall of the shower, eyes fluttering closed as she turns the toy on and brings it to her core. She’s found through trial and error that she can edge herself for hours with this little vibe if she wants to, making for interesting members’ only streams during the week. She’s had fun little Q&A’s where she turned up and down the intensity for every question asked and answered. She was in tears when she finally allowed herself to orgasm during the first one, but she thoroughly enjoyed it, and Wolf had seemed to as well.

Wolf.

Her not-so-secret secret admirer.

He’s probably just some random lower demon who’d taken a liking to her. But sometimes, when he teases her, the way that he talks reminds her of Lucifer. Lucifer who’d been nothing more than civil to her for the entirety of the exchange. Who’d threatened to kill her half a dozen times and actually tried to kill her twice. Who looks at her with bored detachment under almost any circumstance except when it seems to suit him. But when it does suit him…

Those taunting crimson eyes haunt her dreams, her fantasies. No matter how hard she’s tried, no matter what she does to try to stop, when she closes her eyes it’s his crimson ones she sees. They look down at her like he can see her soul, can lay her bare before him, and it lights every nerve in her body on fire.

Lucifer arrives home to the sound of music playing in Delphi’s room. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence, but what is uncommon is the fact that he can’t hear her singing along to it. Normally he’d hear her belting out whatever song she’s listening to, but today? Nothing. It sends a wave of cold dread through him.

He drops his bag by the door and heads directly for her room. He tries calling out to her at first, but when that doesn’t get a response, he opens her door and steps inside. She’s nowhere to be seen, but he can hear the shower running in the bathroom. He approaches it hesitantly.

What if she’s only showering and he’s about to walk in on her? What if she’s fallen and hurt herself and couldn’t message any of them to let them know? What if something worse has happened?

“Delphi?” he tries calling out again at the bathroom door, but he imagines that her music is so loud she can’t hear him. Without waiting much longer, he opens the door.

Delphi can feel her release building fast as she plunges two fingers into her slick-coated entrance, moaning loudly when she finds that spongey sweet spot to tease. Eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the wall of the shower, she desperately chases her building high.

Lucifer watches, slack-jawed, from the door as she does, not making a sound for fear of being discovered. He’d been so wrong. It was still so wrong for him to be here, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her skin is flushed, water running down her body in rivulets, dripping from her nose, her chin, and her pink nipples. She’s rolling her hips into her hands, whimpering and crying out as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

This isn’t her stream. She isn’t trying to make herself prettier for the demons watching her, he realizes. This is real. And the real Delphi is so much more beautiful when she comes undone than he could have ever imagined. She throws her head back, her hips stuttering as she continues to pump her fingers into herself and arching off the shower wall with a high-pitched cry, “Oh, fuck—Lucif—ahh--!”

After a few moments, she slows, slumping against the wall and laughing. She hisses lightly as she removes her fingers, pulling them away coated in slick. Lucifer watches her examine them for a moment, pulling strands of her own arousal between her digits before placing them in her mouth. He nearly moans at the sight of her, eyes closed, lips pulled tight around her fingers as she sucks them clean.

This is something she’d never do on her stream, he thinks, his head light as he palms himself over his uniform pants. He realizes as she slowly pulls her fingers from her mouth that he needs to leave before she realizes he was here. Lucifer carefully closes the bathroom door and retreats from her room altogether, making his way to his office before his brothers arrive home.

He sinks into his chair, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. She’d started to say his name.

Delphi is still wrapped in her towel when Asmo barges into her room, holding two to-go cups from Café Lament and giving her a wide smile.

“Darling! I thought we were going shopping!” he gushes, closing the door behind him. “Though, I have to say, I’m more than happy to have a little fun first.”

Delphi huffs out a laugh. “I already had some fun, actually. Maybe later, baby.”

Pretending to pout, Asmo puts the drinks on her nightstand and flops onto her bed, covering his face with his arm. “You’re going to make me wait? I may waste away!”

“You won’t,” Delphi laughs, pulling on the outfit she had picked out for their trip: A black skater skirt and a pastel pink cropped sweatshirt, complete with black thigh-high socks and pink leather boots. She debates the collar that Asmo had given her after they formed their pact, but decides against it. Not today.

“I’m ready when you are,” she says, poking his hip. He looks up at her and she swears she sees hearts in his eyes.

“Darling, you look amazing!” Asmo gushes, jumping up to twirl her around. His smile is bright enough to light up the whole house as he takes her in, and Delphi feels herself flushing under his loving gaze.

“Thanks,” she giggles, smoothing her ponytail. “Can we go shopping now?”

Majolish is packed when they arrive, demons milling about the racks rifling through clothes, shoes, and accessories. Delphi and Asmo join the fray, picking out outfits to try on and accessories to buy while giggling to each other about anything and everything they can. This is one of Delphi’s favorite ways to spend time with the Avatar of Lust, going through racks of clothes and accessories that he’d helped design, having him pick out things for her to try on and buy. It’s watching him in his element.

He runs off to a display while Delphi looks at shoes, and comes back with an armload of clothes, a bright grin on his lovely lips.

Delphi laughs, “I guess I’m supposed to try these on?”

Asmo nods, winking. “We both are. Come on, hon!”

She follows him to the fitting rooms, amused but unsurprised when he pulls her into a room with him, locking the door behind them. He hands her a pair of black leather pants and a pink top, giving them an impatient shake when she doesn’t take them right away. She takes them from him and sets them on the bench behind her, putting her foot up beside them to unlace her boot.

Asmo looks over, eyes going wide. As she’s bent over, he can see everything beneath her skirt. He moves to stand behind her, grabbing one bare cheek of her ass in each hand and pressing against her. With a grin, he leans forward to breathe into the shell of her ear, “Darling, how naughty of you! What were you expecting to happen when I found out?”

A shiver runs down her spine, feeling his bulge growing against her ass and Delphi chuckles, “I wasn’t expecting anything. But what you want to do is entirely up to you.”

For good measure, she grinds back against him, smirking at the little groan it pulls from his throat. She honestly hadn’t been expecting anything when she didn’t put any underwear on. She’d just been drying off still and wanted some extra time. But this is a pleasant side effect.

She feels one of his hands begin to drift lower, his slender fingers featherlight as they tease at her slit. Delphi cants back into his touch, a strangled squeak of a moan catching in the back of her throat as she tries to remain quiet enough that they won’t be caught. Two perfectly manicured fingers dip within the wet heat of her core, teasing at the delicate ring of muscle at her entrance before reaching deep inside her and curling them into that spongey spot she can only barely reach herself. She rolls back into his hand with every curl of his slim digits, eyes drifting closed and lips parting in a sigh.

“Shh, darling,” he whispers into her ear as he bends to press his chest against her back. “I know you don’t mind being caught, but we don’t want Lucifer hearing about it, do we?”

Delphi whimpers, pulling the collar of her sweatshirt between her teeth. His breath on her neck and ear sends shivers up and down her spine, goosebumps erupting over her sensitive skin. He continues to pump his fingers into her, chuckling into her ear at her stifled cries. With every chuckle, every breath, every curl of his fingers, she feels warmth spreading through her, thick and sticky like warm honey flowing through her veins.

She thinks he could curl his fingers just a few more times and she’d come undone, but she startles when she hears him unbuckle his belt. She turns her head and hisses, “What the hell are you doing?”

Asmo grins, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants and replies, “What does it look like, Delphi dear?”

There are cushioned benches on three sides of the changing room with a mirror on the back of the door. The Avatar of Lust grabs her by her hips and pulls her to the bench directly across from the mirror. He sits down first, freeing his leaking cock from his jeans with a sigh. He then pulls Delphi into his lap, positioning her with her back to him and her legs spread wide, her dripping entrance directly over his pretty pink tip. He flips her skirt up, then brings one hand up to place the hem of her shirt between her teeth.

“Is this all right, darling?” he murmurs in her ear, grinning at her through the mirror.

Delphi nods, her eyelids heavy with desire. She’s completely and utterly exposed. Her chest heaves with each stuttering breath she takes in and she can see her reflection trembling. Her slick-coated folds hover just above Asmo’s cockhead, and he holds her there no matter how much she may try to move. She’s flushed from her hairline to the tops of her thighs, and she can feel her face getting hotter as Asmo makes eye contact with her in the mirror and begins to lower her slowly down.

“Quiet, dearest,” he reminds her with a wicked grin as he slips into her, a satisfied hum on his pretty lips.

Delphi whimpers quietly into her shirt as he slides her all the way down onto his length, watching his rosy eyes in the reflection before them. They seem to sparkle under the bright fitting room lights, teasing and radiant. He moves her slowly at first, relishing the feeling of her tight walls squeezing him with every movement. It doesn’t take long, though, for her peak to build again, warmth gathering low in her belly.

“Asmo, please,” she breathes, burying one hand in his strawberry curls. She rolls her hips into every thrust, tiny whimpers and moans filling the small room as she chases her high.

The Avatar of Lust watches her slowly come undone, violet eyes hazing over and breath coming in heavy pants. He leans into her ear, letting his breath fan over her neck as he takes the lobe between his teeth. He hums lightly, grinning at the way it makes her clench around him.

“Please, what, darling?” he whispers, delighting in the wave of pleasure he feels surge through their pact.

“Faster,” Delphi gasps, screwing her eyes shut. His responding chuckle sends shivers down her spine.

“Anything for you, kitten,” he purrs in her ear.

He snaps his hips up into hers, silencing her loud moans with a deep kiss. The pace he sets is relentless, every thrust winding his own coil just that much tighter until they're both panting and moaning into each other. Ecstasy grips her tight and the tension finally spills over, stars dancing across her vision as Delphi’s hips shudder and she grips Asmo’s curls tight. He follows quickly, warmth filling her to the brim and she milks him for all he's worth.

When the jolting of her core finally slows to a stop, Delphi relaxes onto Asmo's lap, laying her head back on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh, “That was amazing.”

The walk to the lingerie shop is significantly longer than usual with the seven bags they carry between them and the exhaustion in Delphi's limbs. She smiles sleepily as Asmo chatters away, pointing out accessories that he helped design in shop windows and gushing over his own face on billboards. It’s getting darker by the time they reach the shop, the lights in the window casting long shadows behind them as they approach.

Delphi has been here with Asmo before. She’s helped him pick out ensembles for his own videos, even a surprise or two for Solomon on occasion. This is the first time she’ll be looking for herself, though. Giddy excitement bubbles in her chest at the prospect.

The walls inside are lined with lace and rhinestones, satin ribbons and gold fastenings. There are singles and sets, more modest pieces and pieces that hide nothing at all. Every bit is displayed carefully under soft white lighting on mannequins about Asmo’s size. Delphi tries to hide the way her hands shake walking into the store, but Asmo looks back at her with a grin.

“Are you excited, darling?” he asks, running one long finger along her jawline.

Delphi finds herself grinning back, nodding. She doesn’t know where to look first. Everything is so beautiful that her eyes can’t focus on anything for more than a couple seconds at a time before something else has caught her attention and her gaze is sliding away.

“I’m so excited,” she giggles in response, her eyes still flitting from display to display.

“Good,” Asmo croons, taking her hand gently in his and leading her toward the back. “Come on, I called ahead and had some pieces pulled for us to try.”

Delphi follows him to the fitting rooms, leaving their bags with the pretty cashier as they go. He ushers her into a room, closing and locking the door behind them. About a dozen different ensembles hang around the room, singles and sets, lace and velvet, and everything she could possibly think of in-between.

“Where do I even start?” she breathes looking around with a glimmer in her violet eyes.

Asmo giggles, handing her a garment bag. “Start with this one, hon. I had it pulled especially for you. I think if your mystery demon is who we think he might be, he’s going to absolutely love it.”

Delphi grins, taking the bag from him. “Since you’ve picked my ensemble, I want to see you in yours first.”

She picks a blush pink lace bra and panty set from the wall, shoving it into Asmo’s hands. It has gold heart-shaped accents that she knows will fit him to a T. She gestures for him to hurry, settling onto the plush chair in the corner to watch.

Asmo takes the ensemble from her and turns, taking his scarf and jacket off and tossing them to Delphi. She giggles as the garments hit her, holding them to her chest while he continues to strip. His shirt is the next article to go, the lean muscles of his back flexing under the warm fluorescent lights. She watches intently as he deliberately unbuckles his belt and bends to slide off his jeans.

“All right, darling,” Asmo chuckles. “Close your eyes.”

“Are you getting shy?” Delphi teases, but closes her eyes as asked. She waits for what seems like forever until finally Asmo tells her she can open. And when she does, her mouth goes dry.

Asmo stands before her in his shifted form, soft curves accentuated by tight pink lace and hair falling in soft strawberry waves over narrow shoulders. The ensemble looks absolutely stunning on Asmo’s female form, the gold accents glittering against his alabaster skin and complimenting his rosy eyes.

Delphi rises from her seat, hands coming up on their own to grip his waist. She pulls him close, letting her hands drift to his hips and around to grab his ass. She squeezes tightly, grinning at his sharp intake of breath.

“I think I like this one,” Delphi purrs, slipping her fingers under the delicate lace to stroke the smooth skin beneath. “I’d like it better on the floor, though.”

She backs Asmo against the wall of the fitting room, her lips grazing the soft skin above his collarbone. Asmo groans into her touch, digging his fingers into Delphi’s hair and tugging gently as she nips at his chest. She continues lower, biting at the tender flesh of his breasts exposed by the lace and trailing kisses down his stomach.

Delphi drops to her knees, taking one of Asmo’s legs and raising it up to rest on her shoulder. She noses at the lace between his legs, breathing in the heady scent of his arousal with a satisfied sigh, “You are too beautiful for this world, do you know that?”

Asmo giggles, but it’s cut off as Delphi moves the lace panties to the side and licks a stripe from his entrance to his clit. Neither of them are really sure who the groan comes from, but once it’s out all bets are off. Asmo’s hands are buried in Delphi’s hair, tugging her closer, and Delphi’s grip on his thigh gets tighter as she laps at his swollen clit.

“More,” he whines, and just that is enough to make Delphi squeeze her thighs together. She happily obliges, bringing up her free hand to press a finger into his entrance.

She pumps her finger in and out, hooking it into the ridged spot that makes him cry out with every caress, licking and sucking at his delicate bundle of nerves as she does. It only takes a few minutes before he’s whining and pulling her hair, shuddering and tightening around her finger as she groans into him. Heat pools low in Delphi’s abdomen as she inserts a second finger, feeling him clench and suck her in even harder.

“Just like that, don’t stop,” Asmo babbles, his grip on her hair tightening. “Please, please, please don’t stop!”

Grinning to herself, Delphi continues relentlessly, not letting up until Asmo is gushing into her hand and onto her chin. She fucks him through it, meeting every jerk of his hips with a thrust of her fingers and groaning into him as his thighs squeeze her cheeks in a vice grip. Finally his grip loosens and his hips slow and still, leaning heavily on her as he comes down from his high.

Delphi carefully withdraws her fingers and removes his leg from her shoulder, sitting back and looking up at her work. The pink lace panties are dark with slick and saliva and Asmo leans back against the fitting room wall with heavily lidded eyes, looking absolutely ruined. With a grin, she pops her fingers into her mouth, eyes fluttering closed as she savors the taste of him like ambrosia on her tongue.

“I think we have to get this one now,” Asmo chuckles, carefully removing the tag and stepping into his jeans. When he has them pulled up and fastened, he shifts back. He helps her up with a grin and says, “Your turn.”

Delphi smiles, turning to unzip the garment bag. Inside is an emerald green velvet set. The bra and panties both have black floral lace edging, and the velvet seems to glow in the lighting of the fitting room.

“It’s perfect, Asmo!” she exclaims, not even bothering to take them off the hanger before throwing her arms around him. “I love it!”

“And it’s your size, right?” he giggles, hugging her back.

“Yes! You got it absolutely right!”

“Perfect! Then let’s pay for these and go home! It’s dinnertime soon.”

Me: Have you seen or heard anything else since we talked?

Partner in Crime 💛: Nothin��. Lucifer’s been holed up in his office with the door locked since we got home.

Me: Hmm. Interesting. Thanks, Mams. I owe you one.

Partner in Crime 💛: Yeah, well, you can buy me lunch tomorrow to thank me!

Me: Lol, deal. 😘

Boo💋: Photo shoot Thursday at 7!

Boo💋: Meet in my room!

Me: Sounds good!

Taglist: @sassykattery @bite-sized-devil @sparkbeast20 @attic-club-sandwich @kyungjoon-do @flemmingbamse @consolationblog @rensphilia

I have a taglist! You can fill out this form if you'd like to be tagged when I post!

#obey me #mc!delphi #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me smut #obey me x oc #i'm enjoying this series so much y'all #you have no idea

58 notes · View notes

universeofmuses · 2 years ago

Text

//forgot to post the next chapter last night. Here you go :)

A/N: I do not own the characters, concepts, and so on, this is my first try so please play nice kids. Enjoy.

Sunday was a pretty uneventful day as the four teens were physically dragging trough the day because of the lack of sleep, trying to study for the quiz that their teacher was preparing for them. Even Dr. O was having a hard time concentrating on writing the quiz as his attention was very clearly divided between his work, his dream, and the clear fatigue that has been with him since he heard 'the voice' and began working on the main computer in his basement/command center.

As the day wore on it became clear to Dr. O that there was no disturbance in the morphing grid nor anywhere else, so with the information that was generated from the computer he let out a sigh of relief and chalked up the dream and unshakeable feeling like a large battle was coming to just working too hard at school and being a ranger teammate/mentor to his students. Having felt at ease Dr. O finished up on the quiz he was going to give to his class tomorrow and decided to go to bed early, meanwhile his four ranger teammates where busy cramming worried about the impending quiz thanks to Kira's playful mood with Dr. O as she helped him out the previous day.

(Monday Morning, Reefside High)

As the students of Reefside high where in class chatting away unknowingly that their teacher was about to surprise them with a quiz, while the four rangers furiously flipped through pages of their science book for the quiz,

"Ok everyone lets take our seats, we're going to start out this week with a pop quiz." Dr. O announced as the whole class let out an anxious groan,

"So lets clear off the desks and get started." Dr. O commanded,

As the students complied Dr. O started to hand out the quizzes, Conner was clearly struggling to get through the quiz but Ethan, Trent, and Kira were getting though a little bit better than Conner was. Ten minuets later Dr. O called for the quiz, as he picked up the last stack of quizzes he began his lecture.

"Ok, who can tell me when the Triassic period started?"

The rest of the class went routinely enough until the bell rang signaling the end of class,

"Ok class that enough for today but don't forget to read chapter 9 and answer the questions on page 91 for next class." Dr. O said as the students gathered up their things to leave. The rest of the day went pretty uneventful until after school,

"Dr. Oliver, I need to have a word with you." Said principal Randall,

"Uh, sure what on your mind principal Randall?" came Dr. O's replied as he stopped gathering up his things to call it a day.

"I've heard that you have quite the collection of artifacts, could I see them?" Randall asked with a hopeful tone to her voice,

"Um, I don't know-"Dr. O started,

"Please Dr. Oliver, I would love to know what you have hidden away in your private collection." She said,

"Well, ok you can follow me to my house." Dr. O finally said giving in to his boss' request,

"Great I cant wait" she said with a mischievous grin on her face as they walked out of the room and turned the corner, at the moment they turned the corner the woman from the gym had turned the opposite corner looking very nervous about meeting Dr. Oliver. When she reached the science lab and tried to turn the handle, she couldn't because it was locked, she then look around though the window in the door and noticed that it was empty meaning that she had just missed him.

"Damm it, looks like I just missed him I'll have to try his house." She said out loud.

(Dr. Oliver's residence, outskirts of Reefside)

"And this piece I found on my doctoral internship with Anton Mercer." Dr. O said as he held up a little rock with a tiny fossilized fish in it,

"What's in here?" Randall asked as she lifted the lid of a miniature Ark of the Convent to reveal the thought lost Dragon Power Coin,

"Don't lift it." Dr. O said as he slammed the lid back down on the box,

"Whoa, what did I do?" she asked backing away with her hands up,

"Nothing it's just some of these artifacts are sensitive to the air." Dr. O said as a cover as to why he had freaked out when Randall opened the box that contained his old power coin.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know." Randall apologized,

"Its ok, you couldn't have known." He said, when all of a sudden he noticed a Tyrano-drone lurking outside though the window,

"Oh my god" Dr. O said as he tried to sound surprised,

"What? What's wrong?" she asked as she noticed the worried expression on Dr. O's face,

"Its those things that have been attacking the city." Dr. O explained,

"We got to get away." Randall said worried,

"Yeah I'll hold them off while you get to safety." He said as his strength returned,

"Are you going to be ok?" she asked,

"Yeah when I was younger I use to compete in marshal arts competitions all the time, it's like riding a bike." He said,

"Even so, you're not a young teenager anymore." Randall said, he then looked at her with a look of anger and thought,

"Why is my age such a big deal to everyone, I mean I'm not that old."

"Now go." He said as he ran out the door to take out the Tyrano-drones in his front yard, but there was a lot more there then he had though. He thought about morphing but decided he couldn't risk Randall finding out about his 'extracurricular activities' so he had no choice but fight them with out his powers. For every one drone he took town two more would take its place, it was becoming too much for him as the large group was beginning to surround him. Then he saw something that reassured him that it was not as bad as it looked, a white and black streak ran through the drones and cased sparks to fly as it ran by them, when the streak was no longer visible the white dino-thunder ranger was visible kneeling down with the phased Tyrano-drones behind him as the drones slowly fell down around Dr. O,

"Wow, that was amazing thank you helping me White Ranger." Dr. O said as he quickly approached the ranger to make sure he wouldn't spill the beans on their secret,

"What are you talking about-" Trent asked,

"Principal Randall was here when they attacked and I don't know if she is still here." Dr. O explained in a hushed volume so only Trent could hear,

"What are you talking about, no one is here besides you, me, and the scraps of the drones." Trent responded,

"Oh, then she must have gotten to safety then." Dr. O said,

"POWER DOWN!" Trent called out to demorph just as a pink Pontiac Firebird drove up and the one person that Dr. Oliver never expected to see got out of the car.

(Conner's car)

Conner sat in his car on his way home from a long day at school, but he couldn't shake the image of Kira laying lifeless in a dark room with a blue tube in front of her. It was a feeling of helplessness, like something big was about to go down and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it; like the events in his dream was inevitable. When he got home he got out of his car and went inside and went straight for his room to continue his line of thought until, he stepped on a small bag of half eaten cheetos. As he sat down at his desk with his backpack and got out his math book to start on his homework when he looked up and saw a picture of him and the others on the team, he himself was behind Kira hugging her waist as they both smiled with a warm glow. At that he felt something inside of him grow,

"I have to make sure that dream never comes to pass, I need to fight harder to make sure that no one on this team get hurt; even if it means that I have to make the ultimate sacrifice." Conner said sounding like a true blue red ranger, but deep down inside he had to admit to himself that he was crazy for Kira.

(Kira's room)

Kira was working to keep her concentration on her book report for her English class, when she suddenly stopped and threw her pencil down on the paper and leaned back in her chair to try and clear her head. The dream she had about Conner dieing at the hands of some freaky monkey was too much for her to bear, she was going crazy trying to figure out what her dream meant but then she had an idea of who to ask,

"Hey mom, I'm going to Hayley's for a while" Kira called out to her mother,

"Ok honey just be back in time for dinner, its taco night." Mrs. Ford replied,

Kira needed to talk to someone knowledgeable to get their take on her dream, and make sure she wasn't losing it.

(Mysterious Island Lair)

Elsa returned to the lab on the hidden fortress through an invisa-portal with a rather triumphant grin on her face,

"What are you so happy about?" asked Zeltrax with a clearly jealous tone in his voice,

"Well I so happy because I got the power source that we need for the plan." Elsa replied very smugly as she held up the Dragon Power Coin!

"Elsa, good work recovering the power source needed to power the weapon of the rangers final destruction." Mesogog hissed in approval,

"Thank you my lord, just allow me to make the following changes to the machine to allow it to draw power from the power coin." Elsa replied,

"How long do you need Elsa?" Mesogog asked,

"It should be ready by this time tomorrow." Elsa replied with a look of fear that her answer would set off her master,

"Please proceed, Elsa and alert me when you are done. Oh and Zeltrax help Elsa with anything she may need." Mesogog commanded as his henchmen scurried of to their respective tasks.

(Outside Dr. O's house)

"Hey Tommy, I guess you just cant leave this behind huh?" asked the woman,

"Dr. O, you ok? Who is she?" asked Trent trying to snap his mentor out of his haze,

"Yeah . . . I guess I cant. Trent this is Kimberly Hart the first��Pink Ranger and my First Love." Dr. O replied as he fainted.

6 notes · View notes

wishing-on-a-staranise · 2 years ago

Text

Living for the Hope of it all (s.h. x desi!fem!reader)

part 2

Summary: your cousin was getting married to a guy in Hawkins, Indiana. While the idea of searching for Bollywood movies in a mostly white town seemed like a fruitless endeavor, you were bored— so, you set foot in family video where you meet Steve Harrington. The cute boy and you quickly become friends. Steve realises that he was falling for you but he also realises that you were only going to be in Hawkins for a few weeks.

Warnings: Hard of hearing steve Harrington (so true); lots of staring; lots of yearning; lots of confused steve; reader talks to her family members in Hindi (i tried to edit it to not include hindi cuz not every desi person speaks hindi but i didn’t know how to deal with one particular place in the story sorry); reader has an older brother; two pining idiots; steve Harrington is a spaced out king; an almost kiss😳

A/n: a somewhat of a bollywood reference in there somewhere. Took some inspo from this post. Also this is gonna have a part two and it'll be on here sooooooon. No fucking promises tho

Word count: 8.6k

Mixtape

It was a rather slow day in Family Video. There had been a grand total of one person since opening and they too were a person on a road trip, only there to use the phone. Steve could might as well be swatting flies for a living. Mondays were always slow, but on this particular one, the entirety of Hawkins had decided to not rent movies; and that added with Robin taking the day off that day because she had to finish a project, was really doing a number on him. Even Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Mike were busy with their own stuff. He was so bored that he could even take Keith's company over this. Steve let out a dejected sigh as he looked over at his wrist watch. He still had an hour of his shift left.

He had nothing to do, he had done the inventory, stacking, restocking and rewinding the tapes within the first two hours of the shift— he realised he worked quite fast without the constant banter with Robin. But that banter and Robin's constant ramblings are what made the job fun and lively. The only sounds that echoed through the store were the whirring of the table fan, the buzz of the neon sign that read 'Family video', and Steve's fingers tapping a random tune against the counter.

A glance back at the watch, only two minutes had passed. Steve wondered what he was going to do when he got off. Robin and the kids would still be busy. Perhaps he could call Stacy, the girl he hooked up with, a week or two ago. She was great, but God, did he not feel any sparks when they went on the date.

Maybe he could just watch a movie. His eyes moved through the sections of the store, looking to decide on an option. Horror? Dear God, no. He'd had enough of the genre in real life. He threw the action and thrillers in that metaphorical pile too. Romance? Last thing he wanted was to see a movie of doomed love, or worse actually successful love especially without a Robin to make fun of the characters with. The only option viable enough was comedy.

Before Steve could decide on the movie, the bell above the door rang. He turned to face the customer and he was met with a face he'd never seen before.

"Um, hi?", You said with a soft and amused smile.

"H-hello," Steve cleared his throat, "what can I help you with?" He flashed you a grin, you returned it.

The boy finally took you in. You were wearing jeans and an unbuttoned maroon sweater that looked hand knitted and was probably a bit too much for the mild autumn weather. You had a red top with little intricate designs made in white threads peeking through the open buttons, your ears adorned by earrings that looked a little too heavy to Steve. Your hair was tied up in a ponytail, however little strands framed your face perfectly— flowing in the autumn breeze. Your eyes were lined with dark kohl, he was sure he was looking at a siren, ready to lure him to his death. His breath was hitched, eyes wide, lips parted but he could not say a word. Forget sparks, he felt like there was the entire fourth of July going on in his chest.

"....wondering if you guys had that?", Had you been saying something? Oh shit, he was too busy taking you in to really pay attention to your words.

"Um- I'm sorry, what was that?", He voiced after a few seconds long pause, "i wasn't paying attention to your lips– didn't quite catch that"

"Why would you need to pay attention to my lips?" The corner of your mouth curled, head tilting.

"I- I'm hard of hearing so I kinda need to look at people's lips to understand them", he said with a dry chuckle. The Russians had really done a number on him last year. Besides giving Steve years worth of trauma, they'd also given him extra stuff like lessened hearing ability, constant ringing of the ears, migraines, and bad eyesight— a buy one get four free sort of thing.

"Oh", you blinked, "sorry", an apologetic expression flashed over your features.

"No need, it honestly helps in some weird way 'cause people always think I'm flirting with them, staring at their lips"

you let out a small embarrassed laugh. Now that was a sound he could get used to. Steve wished he could replace the ringing in his head with your laugh. Was he moving too fast? Probably– considering you'd only met two minutes ago.

"Maybe I was", he mumbled softly. If it wasn't for the quiet of the store, you'd have never heard it, but you did. You did and now your cheeks were a little warm, maybe you should come here all the time to tolerate the cold. You tucked the free strands of hair behind your ear and licked your slightly dry lips.

"So… what can I help you with?" He asked again with raised bushy eyebrows.

"Uh– this is a long shot, really, but I was wondering if you guys had Bollywood movies?" Your fingers absentmindedly played with the fraying yarn of your sweater. You already knew the answer. Bollywood movies in Hawkins, Indiana was like trying to look for the colour brown in the rainbow. You were more likely to find out that interdimensional monsters or superheroes were real.

"Bollywood, you say", the boy turned to the computer, typing something. His brows were scrunched and you wished you could smoothen the lines on his forehead with the pads of your thumbs. The brown hair looked perfect save for a few strands falling on his temple. The tip of his nose and cheeks were brushed with a pink hue to them, perhaps due to the cold breeze. His cheeks and neck were peppered with moles and faint freckles. He was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt that almost looked black, the sleeves pulled up to reveal his arms. He wore a watch around his wrist, his skin and arm muscles rippling as he typed away. He had a green vest on, a tag pinned to it that probably read his name. You were just about to read the name on the tag when you realised— you were staring. Full on staring. His voice pulled you out of your daze.

"I'm afraid we don't have that", he said while finally looking back at you, frowning at the news.

"Oh, well that's a shame", you said.

"I'm sorry, no one's asked for them before", he got up from the chair and leaned on the counter. Your chest fluttered at the sudden proximity, and now you were getting too warm. "But I assure you, when you're here next time, I'll make sure we have them"

Next time.

"And when is that?"

"Give me till next week? I'll have it by then?"

"That's pretty fast"

"Well I hate to disappoint pretty people I've never met before''. Your face was definitely getting very warm. Was it the middle of July? Because it sure as hell felt like it.

"Well, I guess I will see you next week then, mr. Video man", you declared before turning to leave the store. It was getting too hot in there, you needed the cool winds to brush against the tips of your nose— to cool you down.

And just like that you were out the door, Steve's eyes followed your retreating figure as you walked away from the store. He looked back at his watch, thirty minutes left of his shift. He could have sworn that you were there for just a few minutes, but the clocks wouldn't lie. He stayed still for a few seconds due to the whiplash of it all. He then strolled towards the romance/comedy aisle, picking up a random one for himself.

Steve got ready for closing. Turning the 'open' sign to 'closed', checking and double double checking the locks. And the entire time, he kept thinking about you. He couldn't wait to tell Robin about you. A girl he'd never seen before, because if he had, he would have remembered. It was when he got in his car that it dawned on him that he never got your name.

He hoped that he would be sure to get it the next time you would come. The next time.

The next day, Robin came in fifteen minutes late for her shift– she'd pulled an all nighter for her project and just managed to barely finish it. Steve first chastised her because "messing with her sleep cycle isn't healthy"-- the dirty blonde rolled her eyes at the brunette's parent-like behaviour.

Steve then told Robin about the girl he'd met, he was practically jumping on the balls of his feet as he did so. The roles were suddenly switched— she was the parent now.

"So let me get this straight– which is very hard for me, trust me", she let out a breathy laugh while wiping the counter, "you apparently found a girl who was so beautiful that she enraptured you in her girl magic under which you stupidly made the ludicrous promise that you'll have a collection of movies that we've never housed before only because you wanted to see her again? Sound 'bout right?"

"I mean, essentially yeah", he nodded sheepishly.

"You are insufferable, dingus", Robin groaned.

"Oh, please. Like you wouldn't have done the same thing"

"How do you plan on getting those movies anyway?"

"Keith, duh"

"And you believe that he'll listen to you?"

Steve looked at her with pleading eyes, eyebrows scrunched, fingers mindlessly playing with the paperweight on the counter.

"Steveee" she asked like a parent would ask their child if they had eaten all the chocolate while said child had chocolate smeared all over them. She knew the answer, he wanted her to do it. She was the one who had convinced Keith to hire Steve, surely she could persuade him again.

The next Monday took forever to come. Steve and Robin– mostly Robin, had somehow managed to convince Keith to have a small Bollywood collection. Total of around seven tapes, not big by any means but would still have to do.

That morning Steve had arrived annoyingly early to the store. He was sporting his maroon sweatshirt. The colour reminded him of the sweater you were wearing, it reminded him of you. His hair was its usual self– set perfectly. He'd shaved the little scruff he had and doused himself in an overindulgent amount of his favourite cologne.

So there he was, fingers nervously tapping against the stack of Bollywood movie tapes and eyes glancing over to the clock every two minutes. Steve would frantically get up with an expectant smile every time the doorbell rang and then the smile would instantly disappear when he would see that it wasn't you.

There was just 15 minutes of their shift left and you still hadn't come. Maybe you weren't going to. Steve's hope was starting to wither away.

"Y'know dingus, I'm starting to think that your mystery girl isn't coming", Robin muttered while rewinding some tapes.

"Yeah, maybe you're right", he let out a dismal sigh. His hair wasn't sitting perfectly anymore, it was floppy and sticking up in places maybe due to the excessive amount of times he had run his fingers through the thick strands. He had accidentally spilled ketchup on his pants during lunch and his cologne was no longer as "overwhelming", as Robin had put it. His overall demeanour was that of a sullen little child, who was offered with immeasurable treasure and then given a class about taxes and mortgages.

The brown haired boy turned his back towards the door, his amber eyes fixating on the dirt clung to the sole of his shoes. The ringing in his head acted as white noise as he zoned out subconsciously, he realised he was doing that a lot lately— especially since the starcourt mall "fire".

Robin got up to get ready for closing up, putting all the tapes in their designated places. While doing so her eyes glanced over to the sunset outside, the clouds swirling with the oranges, pinks and lilacs and that's when she noticed a girl marching quickly towards the store. A very pretty girl.

"I retract that statement. I think your magic girl is here steve", she said while making her way towards Steve whose back was turned to her and the door. Robin groaned realising that Steve probably didn't hear her. She tapped his shoulder lightly and he turned around, "I think your mystery girl is here and you were right I'd do the same", she smirked.

Steve turned to the door and you were entering the store. Your hair wasn't tied today, the wisps of hair flowed as you walked quickly towards the counter. You were still wearing the maroon sweater, this time paired with what looked to be a hand knitted scarf around your neck. Once again a bit too much for the weather. Your earnings were different, still looked heavy to Steve though.

"Hi, I was scared you guys had closed up. I just got caught up in something"

"We– we were just about to close up actually", Robin said.

"Did I keep you waiting?", You asked, eyes locking with Steve's while tucking your hair behind your ear, fingers hitting the silver jewellery adorned on your ears. The action gives rise to a jingle in the heavy earrings and a heavy thumping in Steve's chest.

"W-what? no–"

"Yeah, he was,'' Robin interrupted. Steve gave the short haired girl a glare to which she muttered a "ok, sorry", held her hands up in surrender and went to the backroom to give you and Steve privacy.

"Sorry for being late–", you tried.

"No- no it's fine. Completely fine", Steve protested while ushering you and himself to the aisle with the small newly added section.

"Ok. Did you get the movies?"

"Yes, ma'am", he said, holding up a random tape, triumphantly.

"Impressive that you could get your hands on these so quickly", you picked up the tapes looking at the titles, trying to pick a few.

"I feel like, I had to if I wanted to see your face again"

you took out the movies you wanted, the words from the boys mouth not fully registering at first. After a moment, what Steve had said finally got through— the implication of it, apparent, your heartbeat a little faster and your cheeks a little warmer. However you didn't address the statement and instead stuttered, "I'll uh– I'll take these two"

"All righty!" He clapped his hands, taking the tapes from you.

"I– um, I'm gonna need your name?"

"(Y/n)", the boy repeated it out loud to etch it to his memory– his accent warping the pronunciation. You bit your lip to contain your laugh, however the boy caught you and laughed with you.

"Aren't you gonna ask for my name? I got those tapes for you after all", he said, crossing arms in front of his chest.

"Oh, so tell me", you started, leaning against a wall, "What is your name steve?"

"Well, it's st–", the boy with honey eyes stopped, gears turning in his head, "oh. how'd you know?"

"I have my sources. Those being your name tag"

Promptly you heard an audible and hearty laugh of Steve's co-worker, all the way from the backroom. Steve groaned at the realisation that Robin had been eavesdropping on both of you. His palm rested between your shoulder blades as he took you further down the romance aisle, away from Robin's prying eyes and ears. His touch was light, soft and barely there but its warmth still managed to seep through the layers of your clothing. He quickly retracted his hand back to his side, leaving your skin almost burning. You weren't sure why he was leading you away but you followed his lead nonetheless, not saying a single word.

"So, what's it mean?" He broke the silence, "Your name?" He added.

"What does Steve mean?" You retorted immediately.

"Honestly, I have no clue", he said with a chuckle,

"So, you new in hawkins?"

"Sort of. My cousin is getting married to a guy from here. So I'm just here for that"

"Oh cool, so I guess….. I'll see you around?"

"Maybe" you smiled.

He smiled back, "uh, I'm gonna need your number"

"Why do you need my number, Steve?"

"So, if you don't return the tapes within the rent period. We can call you and extort the money out of you", he said, crossing his arms– the muscles flexing that made you feel a little too hot.

"You think I won't return the tapes?", You reached to rest your hand atop his exposed arm, "Don't you trust me?", You weren't sure where the sudden confidence was coming from— perhaps you were being possessed by a ghost or something.

Steve's breath hitched, he was sure he had short circuited. Your one action of just touching his arm, equivalent to pouring a glass of water over the wiring of a computer. The sparks came in the form of stutters, words spurting out too fast to be coherent. "I uh— I do, but it's– it's company policy", he cleared his throat, "We're supposed to do it with everyone"

"Forget about everyone else, this is between you and me, Steve", the boy's heart skipped a beat. Steve was sure that you saying his name was his new favourite sound. He still hadn't let out his breath, your hand still touching his skin.

"Maybe, we can deal with this in other ways…", you said in a sultry tone as your hand went putting your hair up while making direct eye contact. The flustered boy admonished himself for the image his mind conjured up, he gulped. He should probably look away, he thought, yet his eyes were transfixed onto your Kohl lined ones. He was no longer paying attention to your words to register them or lips to read them. Maybe it was lack of oxygen, he still hadn't let that breath out.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr video man", you said with a chuckle. You took the movie tapes from his hands and headed to the counter where Robin now was, leaving behind a frozen and blushing Steve Harrington.

By the time Steve comes back to senses, you were already out the door. Robin had rung you up. He finally let out a long heavy breath, walking up to the counter, mind reeling.

"Jesus, you've got it bad. And here I thought you had game, but you truly forgot how to function"

"I do have game", the boy objected.

"Yeah, dingus, that's why you stood there like a mannequin and you still managed to get the girl", the short haired girl scoffed.

"... What?"

"Oh yeah, you were blanked out– she left you this", Robin said while handing Steve what seemed like an invitation card. It was a thick cream coloured envelope, embossed with gold letters and red accents. The envelope was addressed to a 'mr. Video man' written with a marker, which crossed out and now read 'Steve'.

"Mr. Video man?" Robin spoke with amusement. Steve let out a chuckle and turned the envelope where you'd written something.

Hello mr. video man, (I prefer it over steve) you better come in your best clothes or I'll have you know that desi people are really good at judging. – (Y/n)

Steve opened the envelope, looking for the venue. Hawkins was small, so much so that everyone knew about everyone. So, word about an international marriage should've caught wind, yet Steve had managed to not hear a word about it up until now.

He then saw the name of the groom and bride.

Ravi and Kajal.

Ravi. Oh shit.

Steve knew Ravi from back in middle school, not in the best way. Steve cringed at his past and how much of an asshole he used to be to people. By the end of Steve's middle school he'd heard that the older boy had shifted to his grandparents house. He and his friends had put the poor boy through hell— so much that his parents thought the only way to keep him safe was to send him back home and away from America.

"What's wrong, dingus?"

"I'm in deep shit."

The next day, Steve picked out his most expensive suit— adamant on impressing you. His mom had got it for him for an event he never ended up attending, the fabric a deep and dark blue. He set his hair, making sure not a single hair stuck out except for a few rogue strands that fell on his forehead— very much intentionally.

He wondered what you would be wearing, whether you'd end up accidentally matching or completely different. He knew you'd look absolutely stunning no matter what.

He locked the empty Harrington house behind and drove his maroon BMW through the mostly empty streets of Hawkins; the sidewalks had an orange hue to them due to the autumn leaves. It was almost dark out now, the sun having set half an hour ago. The chilly air that flowed in through the cracked window brushed the tip of his nose and the apple of his cheeks— sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin.

His mind wandered to Ravi, a pang of guilt and repentance hit his chest at the man's thought. He hoped that he did not cross roads with Ravi. On one hand he wanted to apologise but on the other he didn't want to show his face to him and ruin his day. No one wanted to see their school bully in their wedding with their wife's cousin.

When he arrived at the venue, it was swarmed with way too many people. The booming and toe-tapping music hit his ear, so did the bright lights and colours of the decoration. The people were dressed in what he assumed were traditional clothing. It was then that it hit steve that he had no idea on what to do in a desi wedding so he just walked over to the food stalls, filled with delicacies that he'd never seen before. He had no idea what to pick. His eyes flicked through the crowd looking for you. The music, the lights, the crowd, it was almost overwhelming and Steve could already feel the predecessor of a migraine arising.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see your face. Your beautiful face. Your dark eyes, lined with Kohl, ears adorned with shiny and silver earrings. Hands in rows of matching silver bangles, jingling with every move of your arms. You were wearing a baby blue top that flowed to your knees,it had white intricate designs, the fabric looked a little too sheer to protect you from the cold. He wanted to hug you to help with that, but restrained himself. He was still quite frankly clueless about your culture and its boundaries of what's considered okay to do, the last thing he wanted to do was cross a line.

"Are those your fanciest clothes?", You mused, smiling.

"Not good?" He said looking down at his own clothes and laughing a little.

"Little tacky, I'd say"

"Tacky? This was the most expensive shit i have "

"Look around, video man", you gestured with hands, "your expensive shit sticks out like a sore thumb "

The boy's shoulder sunk just a tad bit, his eyebrows furrowed slightly– surely trying to concentrate on your voice over the rest of the loud sounds.

"Don't worry though, nobody cares", you insisted– waving your hand in the air.

"I thought you said that–" Steve started but you finished for him.

"Oh, people judge no matter what", you turned your gaze to a group of ladies, most of which looked to be above forty, "I bet some aunties back there are judging me because I'm talking to a guy or my choice of clothing", you shrugged, turning back to him.

"Are you kidding me?! You look amazing! And this top looks great" he complimented, you muttered a little "thanks" trying not to profusely blush at his flattering remark. "but like– don't you get cold in it?" He added.

"A bit but i can handle it", you were lying through your teeth, your chittering-by-freezing-weather teeth. You already hated the cold hawkins weather but having to dress up and look pretty was challenging in such a weather without freezing your nipples off was a challenge to say the least. But you'd always been a stubborn one for challenges. And steve, had been helpful enough in keeping you warm anyway.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked again. Ever the gentleman, the boy wanted to give you his blazer but once again restrained himself.

"I am, I'll be fine", you confirmed, "You still look good, by the way", your voice almost close to a mutter.

Steve wouldn't have heard you if he wasn't so zoned in into to you, though focusing so much was starting to hurt his head a bit. "Thanks", he muttered back.

You realised, his eyes were on your lips. You berated yourself internally, reminding yourself that he was just doing that because he couldn't hear you. But your brain was a funny little fella, who loved to live in delusions. A part of you pretended that he was staring at your lips for the sake of staring at them. You wondered what the aunties would be whispering among themselves at noticing it. Butterflies arose in your chest at the thought.

"So, where are the groom and bride?" His voice broke through your thoughts.

"Probably back at home", you answered as you chastised yourself, catching yourself staring at his lips. His pink and slightly chapped lips. His very incredibly kissable lips— wait what? Where did that come from?

"At home? Why?" He asked with a tilt of his head and furrowed brows.

"Why would they be here?" You interrogated, not understanding his confusion.

"Um– it's their marriage?"

"Yeah, but not today", you chuckled.

"What?"

"Steve, this is just a welcoming dinner thing for everyone. Desi marriages have several events that go on for weeks", you explained, laughing.

"Oh", he mumbled with knitted brows.

"Are you okay? Did I just shatter your worldview?"

"I think I'm kinda having a migraine.. The the noise and lights are a bit too much", he said, palm going up to his forehead before muttering a little,"sorry"

"Okay, let's get to somewhere quieter", you said with authority before grabbing his arm that tensed under your touch but he didn't pull away. You lead him away from the crowd. You led him through the house, up a flight of stairs, and down a hallway, and finally let him into a room. The bed was messy, a mix of clothes and blankets on it. There was a table with a clutter of jewellery and makeup. Steve felt compelled to clean up the mess but the boy stopped himself. you sat him on the edge of the bed.

"Your room?'

"Me and a few cousins", you went to try to clean up the chaotic mess that you and your cousins had conjured up earlier to get ready, "feel better?"

"A little… thanks"

"No problem, how long have you had this migraine problem?"

"I don't know, like– a year or two"

"Your hearing problem probably makes it worse. Why don't you wear your hearing aid?"

"I don't have one", he said, hand flying to the back of his neck, "I'm also not that hard of hearing"

"It's enough that it interferes in your daily functioning, Steve", you shot him a disapproving look, finally shoving the last piece of clothing in the closet.

"Then how will people think that I'm flirting with them?" He joked, however you didn't return the amusement.

You turned towards the door. Steve's smile quickly disappeared as he stuttered out, "W–where you going?"

"Getting you some food to fix that migraine of yours"

You came back a few minutes later with a tray full of your favourites for Steve and yourself. Steve, although quite clueless, was very interested. You made him try everything that you could fit onto that plate of yours. From kadai paneer to kebabs to pakoras to samosas and ras malai to gulab jamun to jalebis to kulfi, Steve was adamant on trying it all. And the boy loved it, maybe the heat was a bit too much for him and maybe he shouldn't have had all that so quickly but he'd be lying if he said that he wouldn't love to eat all that again, perhaps separately next time.

With you telling him all about the food, their names and Steve attempting to pronounce them, Steve's headache had subsided– almost like it was never there.

You were a good distraction, he thought. With your cute accent, the way you express yourself through moving your hands around in the air, the way the hair framing your face bounced when you bobbed your head while talking, the way your earrings jiggle and shined, the way you smelled, the way you sounded, the way you laughed, and the way your soft lips moved. The movement, mesmerising.

You were just about to tell him about the difference between kulfi and ice cream when the door flung open, revealing your brother with a plate and two cola bottles in hand. He looked at you and then the brunette boy on your bed, brows arching as if to ask, 'girl, why the hell is there a white boy in your bedroom?'

"heard of knocking?", you muttered in an annoyed tone.

"who?", He said, jutting his chin towards steve.

"Friend.'

"Oh. Of course," he said with a sly tilt of his head, "a friend"

"Shut up and get out", you got up to push your older brother out and close the door behind him but then you noticed the contents of his plate.

"They had biryani?" You had looked through all the food stalls looking for the biryani but weren't able to find it as it was out within half an hour. Your brother had probably saved a plate for you.

You weighed your options; kick your brother out of the room and probably face embarrassment and mock for days on end from said brother, or let your brother in, introduce him to Steve, face embarrassment and mock for days on end but also get to have that biryani. You pondered, biryani was worth it, you thought.

You let out a long breath, "ok fine, you can come in", you muttered, opening the door wider so he could let himself in.

"Thank you", he sing-songed as he put the plate on the bed and handed you both the cola bottles, "hello, white-guy-i-do-not-know"

"Uh, hi, I'm steve", the boy stammered while holding his hand out to shake.

"Hello Steve, myself Rohan", he gave him a firm handshake.

"Rohan", he echoed as if to glue it to his memory, "thanks", he said while holding up the bottle.

"Don't mention it, man. So tell me Steve, why are you in here with my sister when you could be out there having an actual good time?"

You rolled your eyes and started, "He wasn't feeling good–"

"I asked your friend"

"I– uh I have– my migraine was really acting up so she bought me here"

"Migraine?"

"Yeah, I don't know, I guess the music and everything was a bit too much"

"Are you calling us loud and noisy?"

"U– no– of course— I'm not– I just–", the boy stuttered.

"Don't worry dude, I'm messing with you", Rohan chuckled, waving his hand before asking, "Is your head okay now?"

"Uh, yeah", steve let out a breath, "Yeah it's better, the food helped"

"Delicious, isn't it?" The white boy nodded, "Be free to have the biryani, but I'm sure my sister would offer it to you", your brother said, flashing you a smirk. You let out a annoyed sigh, one that Steve didn't notice.

Steve goes to eat the biryani but his bite ends up having an elaichi. The boy let out a pained groan as he hung his jaw open so the food could fall out, immediately going for the cola.

You hissed, "oh that's bad, don't worry it happens to the best of us"

"Maybe to you", your brother muttered while taking a swig of the fizzy drink from your bottle, "it doesn't happen to me. I mean, my first love always was chicken"

"That sounds way too weird. I'm considering disowning you as my brother", you huffed out, annoyed.

"So steve..", Rohan started as the boy went back in for another spoonful, "Are you going to be there tomorrow?"

"W– what is tomorrow?" He asked through a mouthful of rice.

Rohan scoffs, "you haven't told him?", He asked you, shocked as he tutted.

"Told me what?"

"There's the haldi tomorrow" The brunette boy waited for you to elaborate. "It's like an event that we do with the groom and the bride separately, it's hard to describe to be honest– I guess you'll just see it tomorrow"

"Not in those clothes"

"Rohan–"

"Oh, no offence man but that suit is bad. Like doesn't fit the vibe at all"

The light bulb lit above your head. "Then let's get you something else"

"Um– what–","What–", both the boys said together.

"You", You pointed at your brother, "do you have an extra suit?"

"Why the hell would I have an extra suit?"

"I know you do", you did infact not know.

"No I don't"

"Yes, you do"

"No, i–"

"Listen, Rohan if you run along right now and find a nice suit for steve, things will be a lot easier for you"

"Or what? What're you going to do?"

"Guys, it's fine–", Steve tried to speak up.

"No steve, it's isn't fine","No steve, it is not fine", you both said simultaneously.

"Go and get the suit, Rohan", you ordered.

"Why don't you shut up, (y/n)?"

"Guys–", the boy started again.

"Shut up, steve ", "Were trying to have a civil conversation here Steve"

"It's better that you get going now, bhaiyya", you gave a sickly sweet mock smile.

"I don't think so, mummy, papa ko bata doon tere iss chakkar ke barey main?"

"Go ahead, bata de. But main bhi tumhari girlfriend ke kisse mummy-papa ko pesh karungi, it's only fair" Rohan paused, a mix of fear and annoyance flashed through his features— you'd got him good.

Steve had no idea what you were saying, you two could be making fun of him for all he knew. But there was something about the mischievous glint in your eyes that said that you knew that this would end with you winning.

Your brother rolled his eyes, let out a sigh and marched towards his room.

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing, I just asked him to get me the suit or I'll tell our parents about his girlfriend", you went to take a gulp of the fizzy drink, "Still hard to believe that he even has one but she comes useful with getting something out of him". Perks of being a younger sibling, you'd say.

Soon your brother stepped back in your room, and a yellow suit with embroidery hung over his arm.

"I seriously don't have yellow suits. I have the one I'll wear but I found this chikan kurta– don't know if it'll fit him"

"Um– chicken?" Steve questioned quietly.

"Yes, a chikan suit"

"Chicken suit?"

"Yes…? Oh, Steve, you idiot. Chikan is an special type of embroidered cloth"

"So, it's not made of chicken right?"

"No?!", "What? No dude"

You put the suit against his chest to see if the suit will fit him. his breath hitched at your proximity to him, he chided himself, reminding himself that your brother was still in the goddamn room.

"I think it'll fit fine enough", you mumbled to Steve before telling your brother, "Okay, fine. You're fine,i won't tell them"

Rohan shut the door behind him, muttering something along the lines of, "Fall for it every single time"

The next day, Steve came clad in the suit you'd given him. The fabric was a little too loose in some places and a little too tight in others, it wasn't a perfect fit but you'd be lying if you said that he didn't look amazing. Something about seeing him in traditionals just made your chest flutter and stomach flips.

A smile etched itself onto his face when he noticed you in the crowd as he weaved through the people to get to you.

"Hi, you look great! And we're matching!"

"Steve everyone is wearing yellow", the boy looked around and indeed– every single person was wearing something yellow.

"Why yellow?"

"It'll make sense soon"

Confusion settled on his features as he saw the people putting a yellow paste on the bride's face and arms.

"That's a turmeric paste, we call it haldi. The groom and brides family do it separately to them"

"...why?"

"Steve it's a tradition, I'm sure it probably symbolises something but I don't really know, to be honest– it's just fun"

Soon enough, you led him back to your room before Steves migraine started acting up again and you talked the entire time. He told you a bit about traditions that they did in their weddings.

The next day, at work, Steve felt like he was starting to lose it– Robin was right there with him. He wouldn't shut up about you,

"..and did I tell you that she got me a suit?"

"Yeah, Steve. Like seven times already"

You hadn't told him anything about any events that day and neither had you called the workplace. He was starting to get ansty.

Although he wanted to, he couldn't leave Robin alone at the video store as it was one of the busier days of the week. So, he helped Robin close the store up.

After dropping the dirty blonde girl at her house, the boy grit his teeth and drove to the house you were staying at.

The clock read 10:30. You were putting oil in your grandmother's hair and braiding it. The radio played a random cassette of Indian songs that Ravi had given you for the night. The buzz of the heater placed by the bed filled the air along with singers voice.

Through the song, you thought you heard a knock at the door but when you turned around, there was no one. So you turned back to braiding your grandmother's hair. Another knock, still nothing. Your motions stilled, trying to ascertain whether it was coming from the player. That when you heard it again. Another series of rapid knocks …. Coming from.. the window?

Your head snapped towards the window, the curtains were drawn but there was a sliver of an opening to be able to see outside. Your eyes met with a certain Steve Harrington. He waved his fingers at you awkwardly, your eyes widened as you looked back at your grandmother who was apparently still oblivious to the unwanted presence in her vicinity. You quickly gestured to Steve to be quiet, finished your grandmother's braid and led her to her room.

When you came back, Steve was still there, waiting patiently. You locked the door behind yourself, Your feet moved rapidly towards the window. When you finally opened the window–

"Hey–"

"What the hell are you doing here?", You interrupted him.

"Came here to return the suit", he held up a bag that had the suit.

"And 10:30 p.m. was the right time to do that?"

"Fair. Fair. I'm gonna be honest I was just bored", he raised his palms up in surrender, "Might've missed someone", he muttered the last part.

"Oh, missed me?" You questioned with a mock grin ignoring how your cheeks heated up, Steve Harrington really was your own personal heater.

"Don't get too happy. I didn't say you– missed your brother"

"Well, then I think you climbed up the wrong room"

"Yeah, I should get going and probably climb up to his window. Y'know, woo him with my charm and uh– y'know, he'll forget about his girlfriend and I'll be what– your brother-in-law?"

"Are you implying that you're attracted to my brother?", You laughed.

"He's a good looking guy", the boy deadpanned.

"And here I thought you were starting to fall in love with me"

"You can dream on, princess"

"Just be glad my Nani is just like you or else you'd be in trouble"

"Like me?"

"My grandma. She's also hard of hearing and just like you refuses to wear her hearing aid"

"I don't need a hearing aid, y/n", you rolled your eyes at his words, "What were you two gals upto, anyway?"

"Uh, I was oiling her hair and she was about to do mine but someone decided to climb a window", you said, turning around to face the mirror and taking the oil in your palm and trying to put it on your scalp.

"I wonder, who could that be?"

You rolled your eyes, then looked at the boy's reflection in front of you. His facial features moulded in an unreadable expression. And although unascertainable, your hands stilled mid action as you tried to decode what the boy was feeling. It was then when it came to you that the boy climbed up your window– you were on the second floor. The absurdity hit you like lightning. Your heart swelled, chest fluttering– the boy had scaled up a wall to meet you. Simultaneously, you tried not to think of why he would've done so, when he could've just met you during the day. Suddenly you felt self-conscious, exposed. Why was he looking at you like that?

"What?", You all but whispered. The boy didn't say a word, still staring at you through the mirror. You turned around, facing him, His gaze still unwavering. He was staring at you like that. The same way he'd looked at you when you first walked into the video store. You noticed that he was staring at your lips, again. Your brain did that thing again, where it would pretend that there was more to Steve's gaze– a labyrinthian code to decipher– rather than just a crutch to help with his hearing.

There was something about looking at you through the mirror that made Steve's head dizzy. You weren't wearing any jewellery or makeup, skin bare– your imperfections present but they didn't feel like imperfections. You were wearing a white version of the same top which you seem to have a collection of– you'd called it a kurti the other day. There was a spot of oil on the fabric that you were perhaps unaware of. Your eyes were bare, no longer lined by dark Kohl. The pupils held a hint of confusion to them, understandably so– he reckoned people climbing in through windows isn't common. There was an intimacy to it, to seeing you without the addings of makeup and fancy clothes and under the moonlight. Something so incredibly�� close.

Your words ringed in his head, 'And here I thought you were starting to fall in love with me'. You'd said it as a joke, it was apparent. But the way his heart jumped whenever you looked at him, it had started to take the joke rather seriously.

"what?" You repeated, still a soft whisper.

I think I'm falling in love with you.

You moved closer to him, he shook his head as if to say "nothing".

its terrifying because I met you like a week ago..

"Are you okay, Steve?"

Can I please kiss you?

"Uh– you've got oil on your shirt"

Your eyes widened, and when you looked down, there was in fact a huge oil stain on your white kurti.

"Yeah, it's um– impossible to get rid of those stains"

You muttered curses that Steve didn't understand under your breath, your feet taking your embarrassed self towards the bathroom that was attached to your room, shutting the door behind you. You used all the soaps your bathroom held to rid the greasy spot on the fabric, to no avail. Minutes passed and you'd given up on the stain and now a new problem arose— you were in just your bra and sweatpants, your kurti was wet and greasy and you didn't take anything with you and Steve was right outside and–

You cracked open the door, the smallest opening to get a view of the room. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed now, his head turning around at the creaking of the door.

"Don't turn!" You squeaked out, "not wearing anything"

The boy muttered a "sorry",closed his eyes and turned around despite how much he wanted not to.

"Did the stain come off?"

"No. Can you get me a t-shirt or something from the closet?"

"Uh– sure", the boy moved, still making sure to keep his back turned towards the door. Honestly, even if Steve were to turn, he wouldn't see anything other than your head and maybe a bit of your shoulders. The brunette boy picked out the first t-shirt he found there and slowly walked towards the bathroom door, eye still averted. He held his hand out to give you the piece of clothing, "here".

In order to get your hand out of the door, you had to widen the gap of the door. Steve's eyes flicked down towards the movement, unintentionally– the boy quickly averted his gaze again, a pink hue overcoming the colour of his cheeks.

"Thanks", you muttered before slamming the door shut.

When you opened the door again, Steve's back was turned towards the door.

"You can look now..", you said awkwardly. Suddenly it was so awkward, something lingering in the air that you dare not mention or think of. You didn't know why you felt nervous. The t-shirt steve had given you was just a simple graphic tee you'd picked from a thrift store in hawkins, the threads at the bottom fraying and the colour a little faded. You felt like you were back home in mid summer with the amount of heat radiating from your skin.

The boy cleared his throat and turned around, his cheeks still pink– eyes not entirely looking at you. Had you made him uncomfortable?

"Um, d'you– do you want me to help you?" Steve's voice broke the silence, "With your hair?"

"Uh– sure..", you mumbled softly. The boy gestured to you to sit in the chair by the vanity. Your heartbeat loud against your chest as you tried your best to look nonchalant, you took a seat and Steve stood behind you– bottle of coconut oil in hand.

He poured some onto his palm, unsure in his movements, nevertheless he started massaging your scalp– accidentally pulling at your hair in the process.

"Steve you're really bad at this", you joked to lighten to mood, chuckling a little.

"Sorry, I'm trying (y/n)", he joined you, letting out a little breathy laugh as he tried to untangle his fingers from the strands of your hair.

"It's okay", you whispered quietly. A comforting silence fell between the two of you, Steve's digits starting to get a hang of how to massage your scalp. Slowly, your tense shoulders started to slump down and you let out a soft sigh. You weren't sure if it was possible but your cheeks had gotten warmer. Almost a bit too hot.

"D'you want me to braid it?"

"You know how to?"

"I can try", he shrugged.

Turns out, braiding hair is actually complicated, you tried your best to explain it vocally however it didn't really work out. So you both settled on tying your hair in a bun.

"Your turn", you commanded. He titled his head in confusion, eyebrows scrunched together, "might help with your migraines"

"I don't have one right now, (y/n)"

"Just shut up and sit down", you ordered before adding a soft, "please?"

The boy let out a breathy laugh before shrugging and running his slightly oily fingers through his hair. You put your hands on his shoulder, turned him around and pushed him down to make him sit between your knees– back facing you. His tense shoulders brushing against your knees.

You spilled the oil in your palm, warming it up a little and finally carding it through the chestnut brown strands. The boy's shoulders relaxed as you started massaging his scalp and forehead, his amber eyes fluttering close.

"Damn, you're really good at this"

"I know", you stated.

Steve wasn't sure when, but he fell asleep. You weren't sure when either. One moment he's joking of hiring you as his personal migraine reliever and next moment you're hearing his soft and barely audible snores– head lolling to the side. You continued to gently and delicately brush the boy's brown locks.

There was something about him.

Something that never allowed you to pull your eyes away. Something soft and warm. Something so domestic. Something you could get used to. Something you wanted to get used to. Something you'd never felt before. Something real. Something too real.

Too real.

No, you admonished. It isn't real.

Well, it feels real.

You were only going to be in Hawkins for two more weeks. As soon as you would take that flight back home, it would be as real as fairies.

You looked over at the clock, the thing read 11:47p.m. you bit your lip, looking back down at the boy deep in sleep; As much as you hated to do it you had to wake Steve up.

"Hey, Steve", you gently nudged his shoulder, "Hey, mr. Video man", you shook him a little harder, "Steve, wake up"

The boy murmured in his sleep, further snuggling into your thigh. You leaned forward, your face beside his and you called his name again. Finally, his golden eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on his pink lips. He looked like he had been awoken from the best sleep– because he had. He couldn't remember the last time he'd truly had a good night's sleep despite only being in slumber for a few minutes. He couldn't recall being so comfortable in a really long time, and then waking up to the sight of your soft eyes and smile only added to the serenity of it all.

"You look really pretty", Steve murmured, voice deeper than normal and sleepiness still glazed over his features– mind still not conscious. Butterflies fluttered in your chest, heartbeat picking up. "I think i really want to kiss you"

You were felt like you were stuck in time, maybe you were. Your chest swelled but it also felt a little too tight, your cheeks burning up. You eyes locked into his, you noticed he was once again looking at your lips, and so now so were you. And before you realised, you slightly leaned towards him and you could've sworn the boy did the same. Your eyelids fluttered close as awaited the impending sensation. But it never came.

"Shit", your eyes flung open, catching Steve pulling away and scrambling to get up from the carpeted floor. "I'm– I'm so so sorry", the boy stammered, fingers running through his oily strands. His gaze flew over to the clock on the wall before saying, "I should get going, it's really late and I have work tomorrow and– I'm sorry." He turned to the window where he'd entered form earlier in the evening. His greasy fingers fumbling with the latch. When he finally got it to open, a gust of chilling air flew into the room– leaving shivers in their wake. Before climbing out the window, steve uttered, "I'll– bye!"

And suddenly you were cold all over again.

Taglist:

@555stargirl555 @bijleegiregi @luvsersi @lj127 @angelulls @bitch-biblioklept @1derfulzxyn @avianawrites @pl4ybhaicarti

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x desi!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #desi!fem!reader #desi!reader #steve harrington

88 notes · View notes

achillieus · 4 years ago

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts) (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on. And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break.

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :(

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00 @90ssantiago

#sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #letyoudown #monday the movie #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

529 notes · View notes

nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago

Text

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 3/3 [COMPLETED]

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

“You up for it?”

You were sitting at your usual spot at Maki’s. It was still quite early so the pub wasn’t as crowded as it usually is, and it was a weekday. You were there to meet Sukuna but the owner suddenly started chatting you up like she usually does, beating around the bush for a bit before she finally asked you a favor. Apparently, they’re under-staffed and is in need of another waitress but hiring a new one was out of the question since it was a temporary post, just until the person who really works for her recovers from a broken ankle.

“It’s just from four in the afternoon to eight on weekdays, and since you’re usually hanging around here during those times, I thought of asking you. We’re just really short of hands for the next week,” she said, flashing you a rueful smile. “I asked Ieiri but she’s in the middle of her internship.”

Maki had been there for you before, talking to you when you had issues you couldn’t share with your friends and always giving you free non-alcoholic drinks during your exams, and you didn’t see anything wrong with helping her out for once. You’ll earn from it, too. “Sure. When do I begin?”

She clapped her hands excitedly which took you aback. She’s always so tough, barking orders here and there or putting rowdy customers in their proper places, that you didn’t really expect her to be all giggly and excited all of a sudden. “You’ll do it?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She hugged you then. “Oh my god, Y/N. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You waved her aside, chuckling. “It’s fine. It’s for a week anyway. No big deal.”

She sighed in relief. “You don’t know how much weight you’ve taken off my shoulders, so it is a big deal. Okay for you to start on Monday?”

You nodded.

“I’m giving you all the cherry blossom tea smoothie you want.” She grinned cheekily at you then. “And speaking of cherry blossoms, I noticed you and Sukuna coming here together. Are you together now?”

You felt your face heating up at the mention of the man's name but you shook your head. "Not yet."

"Yet?"

You chuckled awkwardly. "We're working it out, I guess. We're not exclusively dating though and he isn't my boyfriend..." You felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. It's the first time you're saying it out loud, what Sukuna isn't to you, and you had to admit the notion was kinda disappointing. But the problem was with you. "Yeah...just that."

"He likes you though. I see the way he looks at you." Maki smiled knowingly at you. "Does this have something to do with your no dating policy? It's ridiculous if you ask me. Sukuna is a good man."

Ah, straightforward as always. "I know that. That's why I'm letting him have a go at changing my mind."

"And is he successful so far?"

"He's almost there." You frowned then, catching her comment about him. "You seem to know him well."

"We go way back," Maki explained. "My old man still owns the pub when he was a student and he came here all the time listening to me and that old geezer fight."

"Oh. That must have been a sight."

"Plus he's friends with my cousin, Toji."

You tilted your head in question. Sukuna never really talked about his friends, and he has never introduced you to any of them. It’s the first time you’re hearing about that side of him. “Really? What was he like back then?”

Maki snorted. “He was an idiot who had too much time in his hands. He’s smart, but had a penchant for mischief. I mean, I guess you already figured that out just looking at him. Nobody really thought he would end up to be this big-shot architect.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“Toji’s influence, I guess. That one’s a bigger idiot.” She looked deep in thought for a moment then said, “Why his wife chose him instead of Sukuna is a puzzle.”

You were confused. You did not know what she was talking exactly, and why her cousin’s wife should have chosen Sukuna was beyond you. For some reason, you didn’t have a good feeling about it, then you remembered what he told you before about dating just one person.

Could it be… “No…” You didn’t even realize you said that out loud until Maki held onto your hand, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry. I said too much.”

“Well, don’t stop now,” you found yourself saying, unable to help it. “Is the situation what I think it is? Your cousin’s wife…He told me before that he only ever steadily dated one girl. Is it…?”

Maki nodded, grimacing. “They cheated on him six years ago.”

“So, he lost his girlfriend and best friend?” You felt your heart break at the thought. You might not have known him back then, but you couldn’t help but feel bad on his behalf.

“Yes. I’m not saying it’s his fault, but he’s hardly ever there since he was busy.”

“It’s not enough grounds for them to do that!” you stated loudly, feeling genuinely hurt for him. Damn, if he dated just one woman ever and never had a relationship again before you – for six years – then that spoke volumes of how much it affected him afterwards. You caught yourself and flashed Maki an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“Understandable.” She sighed. “He went overseas and didn’t come back until just two years ago. Guess why he came back.”

“Why?”

“To attend their wedding.”

You didn’t know what was more messed up, but you also know Sukuna to be a genuinely good person. If he disappeared for that long only to come back to attend his best friend and ex’s wedding, then it only meant he totally forgave them. If he was giving another relationship a chance, particularly with you, then it also meant he has healed. How he could be so caring and affectionate towards you despite what he went through astonished you, but maybe that’s just how he really was as a person.

“Are they okay now?”

“Yes.” She laughed slightly then. “You should see how he dotes on Toji’s son.”

Maki ruffled your hair, seeing how you’ve reacted. “Just one piece of unsolicited advice, Y/N. If you decide to be with him, be certain about it and don’t ever hurt him.”

You only nodded, taking her words to heart. She was right. Just as you were afraid to be left alone, nobody deserves to be hurt like that. You wanted to be angry at the fact that his own best friend did that to him but at the same time, you were proud of him for coming out of it while maintaining a good view about the whole concept of relationships and perhaps love. It radiated in the way he treated you, and all the effort he is putting into making things work despite your hesitations.

He arrived a few moments later, showing you that crooked smile of his. You both had one beer, and over that, he asked about your day and he told you about yours. When you were finished with your drinks, he said, “Mind going out for a drive? I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t meet his eyes after what Maki told you, and several times, he asked if you were okay to which you responded affirmatively, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Sukuna took you to the cliffs just around the city limits, parking his car a few yards from the edge enough to have a good view of the sea of lights below. When he killed the engine, you disembarked from his Jeep, walking closer to the edge when you felt his hand on your arm.

“Not too close to the edge,” he said, looking at you with concern written all over his face, but before he could ask what was bothering you, you said, “You were going to tell me something.”

At that, he sighed as if in long-suffering. “Yes, that.” He looked at you seriously as if he was going to tell you something grave only to end up saying, “I’m going to be away for two weeks starting Monday. I’m going to London.”

Momentarily forgetting about your conversation with Maki, you blinked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Why did you have to look like you’re about to tell me you’re going to be executed or something? Jesus, Sukuna.” You laughed despite yourself.

“Don’t laugh. I’m annoyed.” He pouted. “Aren’t you sad? Two weeks is a long time. I won’t get to see you, and I have to check for time zones if I want to talk to you over the phone.”

You held his hand, twining your fingers with his before raising it to plant a kiss on his knuckles. “I will miss you, but you don’t have to be so upset about it. I’ll be right here when you come back. Stop being all dramatic.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re funny.”

He rolled his eyes, but then said, “So, before that, I was planning to take you to meet my best friend and his wife on Saturday. I’ve been telling them about you…”

The rest of his words faded, the only thought registering in your head was how he mentioned his best friend and his wife. You were going to meet them. You couldn’t say no to that given that they seem to play integral parts in his life despite what happened. “Okay.”

“You’re gonna love their little boy,” he said excitedly.

“Sure…”

“But really, Y/N? You won’t have a whirlwind romance with some college brat while I’m away?”

You let go of his hand, stepping back. You didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. Not when he was speaking from experience. “What do you take me for?!” The words came out a little harsher than you intended, the resentment you felt for his previous relationship resurfacing.

He arched a brow at you, puzzled at your outburst. “Y/N, I was kidding.”

Not able to hold back anymore, you turned away from him as tears started flooding your vision. You didn’t even know why you were crying over the whole thing, and you just felt like an idiot as you faced him again, frantically drying your tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He looked alarmed as he held onto both of your hands, stopping you from wiping harshly at your face. “Why are you crying? Is it because of what I said?”

You shook your head. “No…no. Can I hug you though?” you asked and he almost laughed as he himself drew you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “You never have to ask.”

You did the same, holding onto him tightly, hoping it was enough for you to get rid of any feeling of hurt left in him if there was any to begin with; that it was enough for him to be at ease where you were concerned when he goes away. Still, you wanted to make sure. You stayed like that until you’ve calmed down, thinking you were doing it more for yourself than for him.

“What brought this on?”

“You won’t get mad?” you asked between hiccups, looking up at him.

“Why would I?”

“Promise me first. I just don’t want to hide anything from you and it’s been bothering me.”

“Okay. I promise.” As if to emphasize his words, he pecked you on the tip of your nose. “Now what is bothering you?”

“Since you mentioned your best friend,” you began, “Toji, right?”

He eyed you, nonplussed. “How did you know?”

“Maki told me…” You started tearing up again. “She-she told me w-what happened. Everything…so I know…Please don’t get mad.”

He clucked his tongue. “That woman. Seriously.”

“I’m glad she told me and I’m sorry if I pried, but I can’t…”

“Is that why you’re crying?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they hurt you.”

His expressions softened. “Silly.”

You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s not silly. Nobody deserves that, least of all you. You’re always so good to me, and I can’t imagine anybody doing that to you, least of all your best friend.”

Sukuna’s hug tightened a tad, placing his chin on top of your head. “No sense crying about it anymore, Y/N. I’ve forgiven and forgotten. It wasn’t their fault if they felt that way when I went away. They found common ground, I guess. Toji thought he was losing his best friend and she felt the same way.”

“Okay.”

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I want you to get to know them, too, just like I want to be close to Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri. They’re important to me.”

“Okay.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” You met his gaze. “If they’re important to you, then I will do that for you and meet them.”

He wiped away your tears then. “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, breathing in deeply. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He shrugged then, snickering. “Maki’s timing sure is impeccable.”

And so, Saturday came and you held onto Sukuna’s hand as he helped you out of the Jeep after parking in front of a two-story house with pale yellow walls and white shutters. Before it was a small, well-tended yard surrounded with white picket fences, very much like the house you grew up in under the care of your grandfather. A small, plastic slide and swing set was placed on the grass along with a tiny bike and some toys in the sandbox.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting your reverie. When you nodded, he said, “You’re not gonna cry, are you?” making you smack him on the arm. “Ow?”

“Serves you right.”

Just then, the door opened revealing this couple you assumed to be the Fushiguros. They looked good together, both with raven hair with their equally dark-haired little boy who looked about eighteen months old, all chubby cheeks and pudgy cuteness.

Toji was this big, hulking man with a vertical scar on the right side of his mouth which oddly added to his charm instead of marring his handsome face. He was carrying his little boy in his muscular arms, taking the edge off his tough looks. He was the first one to approach.

"Hi. Y/N, right?"

"Yes, hi." You shook his hand, smiling genuinely despite your previous notions regarding him and his wife who also stepped forward, taking your hands in hers. She was beautiful, too, and she gave you this feeling of coming home with her bright eyes and kind smile. You couldn’t blame Toji for falling for her, then again, Sukuna used to be in love with her, too.

"You're so pretty!" she said as a way of greeting. "I'm Mirai. It's nice to meet you."

Toji glanced at Sukuna, the gesture injected with meaning. "It's nice to finally meet you. Typically, he's quiet, but he won't shut up about you."

"Shut up," Sukuna muttered.

"It's nice to meet you both." You chuckled. "He isn't quiet around me either." Then your eyes shifted to their kid. You weren't exactly enamored with the idea of children, but you understood what Sukuna meant. "Hi, little angel," you couldn't help but say to the boy who was looking at you with wide, sparkly eyes framed with long lashes. "Your son is lovely."

"Thank you," Mirai returned happily, watching her son reaching for you. "Aww, Megumi likes you."

"Megumi," you repeated. "Blessing?"

"Yes," Toji said proudly and you gathered from his statement that he named the baby.

You looked towards Sukuna as if for assurance as you reached out. "May I hold him?"

"Sure." Toji handed Megumi to you and you followed after them as they led you and Sukuna into their home, marveling at how well-behaved he was, just leaning against your chest and sucking on his thumb, all warm and smelling like baby powder and everything that reminded you of happiness.

The two men went to the living room to catch up while you went to the kitchen with Mirai who was curiously asking you one thing after the other.

"Sukuna told us you're a student. What are you studying?" she asked as she stirred something in a pot.

"Comprehensive literature," you answered, untangling Megumi's hand from your hair.

"Are you sure you're okay carrying Megumi?" Mirai threw you a rueful smile.

You nodded, beaming warmly at the child. "I don't mind. He's so adorable."

Mirai smiled lovingly at her son. "Isn't he? I was so happy when I first had him and saw how much he looked like his dad."

"Yeah, he's like a mini version of Toji. He has your eyes though."

“Thank you.” She grinned. "So, how long have you known Sukuna?"

"Just almost half a year. Around that."

"Guy's whipped for you, Y/N."

"I heard that!" Sukuna called out from the living room. He suddenly entered the kitchen, plucking Megumi off your arms saying, "My turn. How's my favorite boy?"

You just snickered, your thoughts elsewhere. It got you wondering if you would even have met Sukuna if things didn't turn out the way they have. You were picturing Sukuna standing beside Mirai instead of Toji but you just couldn't and it got you contemplating that maybe things ended up the way they did because that's what's meant to be.

As opposed to your resentment to what they did to him, you were now glad, perhaps even thankful and more understanding of Sukuna's reasons for letting things go and remaining friends with them. Because if those things didn't happen, you won't have him. Because if they didn't turn out that way, you wouldn't be watching him being all silly and adorable with Megumi, giving you a picture of what kind of father he would be when he did have kids. Because then, you wouldn't be considering the possibility of a future with anyone…with him.

Then you froze as your feelings for him became clearer. Because why else would you be spending all your time with him, being close to him and getting to know him? Why were you so keen on making sure he was happy? Why were you hurting on his behalf? Why was the world suddenly a better place despite the fact that you're supposedly alone?

It was simple. You're in love with him.

"Y/N?" you heard his deep voice resonating from inside your head then louder as your vision began to focus. He was standing in front of you with Megumi in his arms.

"Huh?"

"You okay? You were spacing out."

"Just thinking." You bit your lower lip, looking apologetic.

"Getting lost in your own world again, I see?" he teased.

"Getting lost in yours is more like it."

He and Miriai looked at you at the same time, the latter giggling pretty much like Ieiri whenever you told her about Sukuna. "You two are so cute."

You brushed the comment off, approaching her. "How can I help?"

You set the table with Toji's help, listening to him talk about Megumi and Mirai with such profound fondness and pride. Just like Sukuna, his appearance was an irony to his funny and soft personality it was disconcerting.

"It's great to have guests over. We rarely do this but Sukuna comes here every Saturday, and well, he isn't a guest anymore," Mirai said as she fed Megumi.

"Thanks for having me then," you replied, still fixated on their kid who was babbling about with his mouth full while he repeatedly knocked a plastic spoon on his high chair.

The conversation was light, circling on their old days, but you knew they were trying to skirt around the ugly things. Mirai regaled you of how Toji got the scar on his mouth. Turns out he and Sukuna were street racers at some point. "Easy cash," as the former had put it. "I mean who wants a part time job if you earn thousands a night?"

"So, what do you plan to become after you graduate?" she asked you again.

"A writer, maybe?"

At that, Sukuna started telling them about your date at the fancy restaurant and how you pretty much nailed the story of the lone old woman who gave you wine. "She's amazing like that," he said fondly, absently patting you on your thigh.

"I'm sure Y/N here finds you impressive, too," Toji teased. "Right, Y/N?"

"Yeah, he smells awfully great it's making my thoughts incoherent," you sallied, "But jokes aside..." You let your voice trail off on purpose, gauging his reaction.

"What?" he prompted.

"That's for me to know," you finally stated, making the couple laugh.

"No fair!"

After lunch, you helped Mirai clean up. Megumi was asleep in his crib after his meal and the guys stood by the backdoor, enjoying some beer. You dried the plates quietly while she washed and told you about Toji.

"It's like raising two kids, really," she told you. "He doesn't pick up after himself and our Megumi is more considerate than he is."

"But you love him," you teased.

"With all that I am." Her eyes strayed to Sukuna then. "Cherish him. Don't let that one get away."

At her words, you felt the same hurt you did when you first learned what the real deal was with them from Maki. You blood boiled out of the blue as thoughts started racing in your head a hundred miles per second. How dare she say that to you when she herself let him go? How dare she hurt him like that and yet keep him as a friend?

The sound of something breaking brought you out of your trance, and you realized the plate you were wiping had fallen onto the floor. But your attention was on her, your steely eyes hard and intense as you said, "You're the last person I expect to be telling me such things."

"I..."

You stepped away from her only to be met by Sukuna's disappointed expression, but you ignored that as well as you turned away. "Excuse me,” you said, bowing slightly as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing your bag before walking out of the house.

The crisp autumn air blew coldly against you, ruffling your hair and your dress as you stood there, not really knowing where to go or what to do. Suddenly, you felt stupid for saying something like that to Mirai when she had been nothing but nice towards you, her and Toji. You also liked their son. And judging by how Sukuna looked at you, you had this niggling feeling that you've ruined it all, eating at you from the inside out.

Just then, the door opened and closed behind you. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Sukuna who followed you out. You've grown so accustomed to his presence that at times, he only had to look at you and you already understand what he wants to convey.

"Y/N, sweetheart, what's going on?" he asked, trying hard to keep the edge off his tone.

You didn't turn to face him, afraid of what you will see. "You heard what I said. Do I really have to explain?"

He walked around you, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. "I thought we're over this. I thought I already explained this to you."

That doesn't cut it, you thought but opted not to say it. He might have told you that he has forgiven and forgotten, and although you weren't involved in it, you still felt displeasure whenever you remembered it. It wasn't as if Mirai and Toji did you wrong, and it wasn't as if you had the right to say shit but she didn't have the right to tell you anything either knowing to herself what she had done. You didn't want to hear anything from her about what you ought to do and decide where Sukuna was concerned. It just didn't sit right with you.

"I know. I'm wrong. I get it," you snapped, shrugging his hands off you. "I wanna go home." You started walking away from him, but you stopped when he said, "What is wrong with you?"

You turned back, breath snagging as you let out a mirthless chuckle. "What is wrong with me?" you repeated, your voice coming out soft but with a bitter edge to it. "I know I am wrong for blurting out the things I did, and I am sorry."

"Y/N –"

"But don't strip me of my right to be angry when Mirai tells me to cherish you and not let you go as if she has any right to do it," you cut him off. "I didn't have the right to call her out on her transgressions to you, but don't tell me I can't cry or be mad at the fact that you had to go through all that because I care too damn much for you!"

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you regarded him, seeing the world come alive with blossoms dancing in the wind while in reality, the world was at its last legs, leaves falling all around you. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like everything was flourishing, filling your existence with beautiful things in an abundance of colors. "I'm so in love with you that I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt. I hate it when I know you're tired but you still smile for me anyway. I hate it when you look disappointed whenever I hesitate and couldn't make up my mind."

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I was being a jerk, but that's how much I love you. I love you, Sukuna, more than I can possibly tell you. I can't pretend I don't."

"Say that again," he murmured.

"What?" you demanded gruffly, too caught up in your emotions to comprehend.

"You said you love me. Say it again." Now he looked like he was about to cry, eyes glistening even as he smiled wide with joy, drawing nearer and taking your hand in his.

You sighed in relief, feeling your chest loosen up. It felt great saying it out loud. Beyond just great. "I love you."

The moment you let go of the words, you were wrapped up in his warmth, his arms tight around you while you listened to the thundering beats of his heart. He held you at arm's length, looked deep into your eyes as he cupped your face and leaned in to claim your lips in a brief kiss. Spring has come in the middle of autumn, filling your senses and making you feel like you could fly. He held you in place, eyes closed as he touched his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Do you mean that?" He opened his eyes slowly and you were lost in their depths as you nodded. "Yes."

"You haven't asked, but I happen to be just as in love with you if not more."

"I already knew that. How can I not when you show me every day? It's comforting to hear you say it out loud though." You smirked at him. "You know, when you don't think I'm asleep."

He stiffened against you. "You heard that?"

"God, it was so hard to keep my eyes closed and stop myself from reacting when you told me you're in love with me."

He clucked his tongue. "You waited this long to respond to me?"

"I told you I didn't wanna give it to you half-assed. I’m giving you my heart just as I want yours, and if you’re ready to entrust it wholly to me, I can’t just reciprocate with pieces of mine."

“You had it since the first day we met. I didn’t have to see everything else to know you’re the one who owns it.” Sukuna kissed you on the forehead, hugging you to him and just standing there with you, watching cars pass by the road, reveling in his proximity and his warmth. You didn’t need much of anything if you had him.

But then you broke out of his hold, realizing the mess you’ve made.

"What is it?"

"I have to apologize to our hosts. Stay here," you stated, walking back to the house to find the couple in the living room, standing there as if they were expecting you to come back. Without hesitation, you bowed before them. "I sincerely apologize for what I said. I should not have said that to you, Mirai. And it isn't my intention to indirectly hurt you, too, Toji. I'm sorry."

"What is this girl saying?" you heard Mirai say as she approached you and hugged you tight. "You silly girl. We deserve that and we don't deserve Sukuna. Everyone just gave us a free pass, and we were glad you were brave enough to say it to us like that. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Still..."

Toji shook his head. "No, Y/N. Thank you. For loving Sukuna and for giving us the chance to finally forgive ourselves, too."

At that, you smiled, nodding in understanding.

When it was time to leave, Megumi woke up and you had the chance to say goodbye to him, too, holding onto him until you had to get out the door.

"Visit us anytime, Y/N," Mirai said, winking. "Sukuna doesn't have to be with you."

"So, you're throwing me away cause you have Y/N now? Some friends you are," he sniped, causing another round of easy laughter.

"I'll come by soon," you promised, pecking Megumi on the cheek. "See you, angel."

***

"So, you're officially together now?" Suguru asked, helping you pack for the trip to the mountains Sukuna had planned, scheduled immediately after his return.

"Two weeks ago, but he had to go to London," you said, and in the next second, Ieiri and Satoru both brought out their wallets, handing bills to Suguru.

"I knew there was something different when he drove you home that afternoon."

"I can't believe you three are betting over my relationship with Sukuna," you muttered, zipping up your small luggage.

Suguru won fair and square though. He had been right to ask from the start when he walked in on you and Sukuna making out on the porch when the latter dropped you off. The drive then was quiet but you had the shut the guy up for teasing you about that "one hell of a confession," as he had put it. But he immediately took control, shoving you against the wall beside the door and kissing you stupid.

"What did I say about raising her on my own?" Suguru gloated, slinging an arm over your shoulder much to the annoyance of your supposed two other parents.

Satoru scoffed. "I was the one who did the hardest job of interrogating him the first time he came and brought our little girl dead drunk!"

"Yeah, he said you're intimidating," you told him, chuckling, and he positively glowed until you said, "But he said you apologized afterwards so..."

Suguru and Ieiri laughed hard at him.

"On a more serious note, Sukuna isn't gonna be as lucky the moment you get hurt, Y/N," Satoru stated calmly and the other two nodded in agreement. "Just putting it out there."

You would do the same for them, too, so you also agreed. "And if I'm the one causing him shit?"

"That's on him, too," Suguru said, ruffling your hair. "You're our princess, Y/N. It doesn't matter who's right or wrong when the time comes. You'll probably get an earful from us, too, cause we like the guy, but you will always have us first."

You clucked you tongue. "You're all being dramatic, but thanks. Much appreciated."

"It's the first time you're going steady with anyone. We're just making sure we've covered all the bases," Ieiri stated.

"Yeah, and before we forget..." Satoru took something out from under your bed, handing it to you.

You eagerly looked into the bag, thinking it was a present but you wanted to throw it at his face the moment you found out what it was.

"I got the bigger sizes cause Sukuna looks loaded in that department. Special edition, ultra-thin in – wait for it – mixed berry flavor." He winked. "Wrap it before you tap it."

"Ha ha, Satoru. You're really funny." You motioned to hit him, but laughed with him nonetheless as you rummaged through the bag. "Where the hell did you even get these?"

"Ordered them in from Amsterdam. You're welcome, princess."

"You're fucking weird for handing me rubbers, but thanks, dad." You handed the bag back to him. "You're giving them to Sukuna yourself though."

"Fine!"

And that he did when Sukuna arrived to come pick you up, strictly telling the man to open it in private much to the latter's confusion. Still, he accepted graciously.

"Don't open that thing," you said the moment you were in his car.

"That makes me want to open it now," he said.

You clucked you tongue, and shook your head. "Do that when I'm not looking." You tilted your head to have a better look at him, reaching over to make him face you. You frowned at the dark circles under his eyes. "What have you been doing in London?"

"Not sleeping enough is one of them, and I'm jetlagged." He took your hand in his and started planting butterfly kisses on your fingers. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." You cupped the side of his face and leaned over, pecking him on the lips. "You're going to sleep the moment we get to our destination."

"But –"

"No buts." You took the key off the ignition. "And I'm driving." You got out of the car, rounding it to the driver's side, opening the door. "Scoot."

Sukuna grinned at you. "Is being bossed around what it entails to be your boyfriend, sweetheart?" he asked, swinging his legs towards the door.

You moved closer, standing between his legs. "And if I say yes? Do you want out?" you asked, flashing him a sultry smile as you drew closer to him, your breaths mingling.

"I can't say I don't like it." He kissed you, deeper than the peck you gave him earlier.

"It's safer if I drive," you spoke against his lips. "Move."

"Just this once," he acceded, moving towards the passenger side while you climbed behind the wheel, gunning the car out of the property. But opposite to his words, he was asleep not an hour into the drive.

You never really realized how long two weeks could be until you had to wait for Sukuna to come back safe and sound. Though your time had been occupied by your studies and every other thing you did, you were always distracted by your phone, waiting for his messages and calls that you had to find yet another distraction in the form of a new video game you've gotten over the mail just two days after he left. But that was just momentary as you finished it in three days of continual gaming. You even went to visit the Fushiguros the weekend prior much to Mirai's delight just to have a semblance of familiarity where Sukuna was involved but it just made you miss him more.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, indeed. You could just laugh at yourself over the past days, thinking yourself selfish at the thought of not wanting him to go anywhere you couldn't easily reach him. But now that he was back, you are back to normal, and you knew you have to come to terms with accepting that it is a part of his job to be away from you every now and then if things are going to work out for the two of you.

You're whipped, and you know it. You've accepted that. Now, it's just a matter of not allowing yourself to become too dependent on his presence.

Sukuna woke up when you stopped for gas three hours later. Why he had to choose such a far off place to bring you to was beyond you, but you weren't complaining in that you'd go wherever he was, but it was more for the fact that he came straight out of the airport and yet he was traveling again and by car, too.

"You okay?" he asked while you munched on gummy bears, standing against the Jeep as you filled it with gas. "We can switch."

"I go on farther road trips with the boys and Ieiri every time we have the chance. Stop worrying about me."

He whined sleepily, his voice coming out thick, trapping you against the car with his body. "You're crabby today. It doesn't feel like you miss me."

"Oi, I had to order a new game just so I won't send stupid texts telling you to come back home. How dare you doubt that?"

He burst out laughing. "So you were nerding out while I was away?"

"Pretty much. Don't run away when one day, you walk into my room and find a monster holding onto my controller in the middle of pizza boxes and a whole lot of other mess. That's me needing to be brought out of my hole."

"Hey, don't do that when I go away for business trips." He looked seriously worried now. "You should do your normal routine."

"So don't say I didn't miss you because I was nearly that monster nerd I was telling you about." You popped a green gummy bear into his mouth. "And I'm still driving."

The drive continued for another two hours with you reaching the foot of the mountain at the side of the highway where you really had to switch with Sukuna since you didn't know the way.

"You didn't bring me here to murder me, did you?" you quipped, seeing how thick the forest was on the one-lane road going up the mountain. It was such green world that you almost wanted the feeling of being lost

"Probably. You're too bossy today."

"Hey, that's me being nice."

"I won't. I have other things in mind to do with you." He grinned mischievously at you, winking to which you just shook your head.

Soon enough, you reached a small, traditional village which was pretty much turned into a hot spring resort. Sukuna stopped at the largest building in the vicinity, telling you to wait in the car as he disembarked, returning very shortly later with a key dangling on his thumb. The drive continued for another twenty minutes until he parked in front of this old-style house which didn't look old at all, located at a much more secluded area of the resort. He handed you the key, telling you to go ahead while he unloads your stuff.

Yup. There was nothing old about the facilities at all with the south-facing side made entirely of glass that looked over the private hot spring and a view of the mountains beyond that. The kitchen was as modern as it could get, and judging by how Sukuna was carrying bag after bag of things into the fridge, he planned to cook during your entire stay there. You took over the job while he carried your luggage into the house. Poor thing did the shopping before coming to pick you up without telling you.

"Go shower and sleep. I can handle it from here," you told him when he entered the kitchen again, muscular arms crossed over his wide chest, eyeing you appreciatively.

Instead of doing as he was told, he came up to you, standing behind you, hands fastening onto your waist as he drew your hair to one side. He nuzzled your neck, slowly making his way up your jawline where he pressed his lips and lingered there for a bit. You smiled, reaching up with your hand to place it on his cheek.

"You need to rest, my love."

"Say that again," he whispered.

"You need to rest?" You teased, feeling him nip at your ear. "My love?"

"You keep annoying me today."

"You keep commenting about how I'm behaving today," you countered, facing him. "Come on, let me boss you around for now. You really need to get some shuteye."

"You'll let me boss you around later then?"

"Deal."

***

"Back already?"

You looked over your shoulder as you combed through your hair when you heard the sliding door open. A smile graced your lips seeing as how Sukuna looked better, more well-rested and more like himself after a long sleep, only coming to at nightfall. He took a dip in the hot spring after dinner and was returning from it.

He came in wearing that dark blue yukata provided by the resort, feeling your face grow hot when you realized you were ogling him yet again. How can you not when the garment hung loosely over his shoulder. He didn't bother tying it properly, and from the partition of the robe, you can see the broad expanse of his chest, the smattering of inked patterns following the sinews of his form.

It wasn't the first time you were seeing his tattoos, the artistic floral and tribal patterns making themselves known to you that day you woke up to him naked from the waist up. However, you did not realize they expanded all the way down the right side of his body, all the way down to the outer area of his thighs. Since he was just wearing a pair of boxers underneath the yukata, when he stepped forward, you were able to see it, and as curiosity won over you, you didn't look away even when he raised a brow at you, the ghost of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.

You stood up, walking slowly towards him, stopping when you were less than a foot away. Your eyes shifted hesitantly between his face and that area of his anatomy silently asking for his permission to see more of it but your hands refused to move midway.

"What is it?" he asked, not exactly sure as to what you were trying to do.

Biting your lower lip. "M-may I..." You couldn't say it out loud so you pointed at his tattoos, feeling a lump forming on your throat when you realized how bold you were being.

"You don't have to ask," Sukuna whispered, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, warm and alive underneath your palm, while he drew his robe apart, eyes intent on you as you followed the expanse of skin that served as a canvass to the artfully-made representation of the four seasons in a single branch of a cherry blossom tree, meandering downwards. From his chest going down the length of his side, your hand traced over the colored patterns of smaller branches that progressed from summer to winter. Your fingers lingered over his iliac crest where new buds of the familiar pink blossoms that promised spring were immortalized on his skin.

Sukuna's breathing had deepened the moment your hand reached lower, and you relished the fact that you had that effect on him, too. You could feel heat behind your eyes as your blood rushed up to your head at the realization that you could do that to him, and even greater than that, the reality of just how much you wanted this man in front of you, how much you wanted to make him yours in every sense of the word and how much you wanted to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the moon that was filtered by the mist rising from the springs through the open sliding doors, you looked up at Sukuna, the man you love with every single fiber of your being, leaning your head on his chest, listening to his beating heart that mirrored the thrumming in your chest.

You brushed your lips onto his bare skin, trailing kisses across his chest before looking up at him and letting yourself be devoured by those deep, hooded eyes as you stepped even closer.

"You're beautiful," you breathed out, pulling him down towards you, tears pooling in your eyes when he finally kissed you, taking your breath away.

Sukuna's large hands roamed your body as he continued to mold your mouth against his, his tongue pushing between your lips which you welcomed with your own, loving his taste, hot and wet and stirring you alive. His hands were warm and nimble as he kneaded the flesh of your hip through the fabric of your kimono, traveling lower to where the garment parted so he can slide his hand underneath. They made their way to your ass, squeezing hard before he slid lower, hooking both of his hands under your thighs. He lifted you up, urgently maneuvering your legs to wrap around his waist.

Neither of you came up for air even as he walked deeper into the room where the bed was, pawing and hungrily devouring each other, what began as a gentle kiss turning into a scorching show of dominance as you both took from each other, not quite getting enough.

"I love you," he rasped, breathless as he nipped at the shell of your ear. "I want all of you."

He then continued kissing you, seizing you at the back of your neck, roughly nibbling on your lips then progressing towards the columns of your throat, spreading the V that formed the collar of your robe. You ran your fingers through his hair, intoxicated by his scent, your toes curling as his hands travelled to outline the sides of your body possessively.

Sukuna then returned to your lips after leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your chest and collar bones, and you kissed him back just as fervently as he pressed you down against his clothed crotch, making you shiver as you felt stirrings at the pit of your stomach. You gasped at the feeling of him poking against your thigh but before you could recover, he entered his hot tongue into your mouth again, gently luring yours to mingle with his. You just let him have his way, not quite believing what was happening as you felt your skin bursting into flames wherever he touched you.

Sukuna lifted you slightly off the bed, putting you down so that you were facing away from him. From behind, he guided you towards the pillows and snaked his hands around your waist, reaching for the sash of your robe and tugging on it. When he was successful, he tossed it somewhere on the floor and reached over your shoulders, slowly feeling for the lapels of the robe, making sure his fingers brushed against your skin, sending jolts of electricity all over your body as he peeled the garment off you in deliberate and calculated slowness, coupled with his mouth following the train down your nape to your shoulders before he pushed you face down on the bed.

"Oh god," you whispered, fighting for air as he gathered your hair to your left shoulder and licked the shell of your ear. "What are you thinking about? You're too stiff. Relax," he said in that deep, sensual voice that turned your legs to jelly.

You grabbed onto the pillow, anticipating what he was gonna do next when you felt his febrile tongue making a trail on your right shoulder, the action morphing into sloppy, wet kisses going down your bare back until you could not feel your robe anywhere near your body anymore. He has already undressed you.

You were on edge and just hyper aware of everything he was doing and every single touch he left on your body made you feel like it was leaving a mark and being absorbed by every cell in your system. It felt good being this close to him, being touched by him and you wouldn’t really mind if he marked you everywhere. You wanted to be his and you wanted the world to know.

His hands travelled everywhere it could touch, pushing you to the edge and making you feel like you were burning slowly, the kind that made every corner of your body tingle with anticipation. What you didn't realize was how tight you were holding the pillow to yourself until he suddenly mentioned it.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Your voice came out at a higher pitch, making you want to smack yourself. This was that you wanted and yet you were being all jittery.

He chuckled softly, stopping his ministrations. "What are you doing?"

At that, you pushed yourself off the bed a bit and turned your head sideways to meet his gaze from over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Yes?”

“Overwhelmed,” you whispered, chuckling slightly. While it wasn’t your first time, everything felt new with the added sensations that your deep emotions for him were throwing into the mix. “How do you want me?”

He turned you over on your back, chuckling. "For starters, cut out the pillow hugging." He pried the thing off your arms and chucked it against the headboard. Sukuna then hovered over you, pinning your hands on either side of your head then began his assault on your neck going lower and lower until he reached your left breast and started licking and tugging on your nipple, his other hand busy kneading the other.

“You are beautiful,” he said, mouth moving against the swell of your flesh while his other hand took possession of the other hand, tentatively squeezing with his long fingers.

You let out a moan, craving for more but not certain whether you could take it or not with your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. You wanted him to touch you more and as if he read your mind, he returned to kissing you intensely until you thought you couldn't breathe, well aware of how his other hand was taking off your panties. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest as you anticipated the moment, but halfway down your thighs, he raised himself a bit and laid himself on top of you, burying his face into your hair.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked cautiously as he raised himself slightly, looking into the depths of your eyes as if he was looking right through you.

Cupping his face, you rose slightly on your elbows, pressing your lips at the corner of his mouth. "A hundred times yes. I'm yours," you said with all the conviction you could muster in your hazy state – love drunk, kiss drunk, Sukuna drunk.

At your response, he latched his lips onto the skin of your neck, kissing lower and lower, passing over your breasts where he lingered, biting and sucking gently. You hissed as you watched him progress downward, his mouth doing all the magic from the valley of your chest down to your stomach, his hand reaching for the garment he had taken off you halfway down your legs, discarding it. The rough pads of his hands brushed over your thighs, pushing them apart as he lowered himself between them.

You let out a sharp cry when he licked a long stripe on your nether lips, his hot tongue swirling over your sensitive nub. He hummed in approval upon tasting you while he teased your folds with two of his digits. Without a warning he simultaneously pushed his fingers into you and sucked on your clit, building a rhythm that had you seeing stars with every thrust, coaxing out whimpers from your slightly parted lips. Your hips bucked towards him when you felt him reaching deep enough to touch your sweet spot again and again.

Sukuna anchored his arms around your thighs, his elbows on the mattress as he held you steady, continuing to lap at you and move his digits inside you as you felt that familiar sensation of coming undone, guiding you through it until you released so hard your juices squirted out despite his fingers still inserted in you, making a right mess of his mouth, chin and hand.

You spasmed against him but he didn't let go, continuing with his ministrations. He removed his fingers from inside you and started eating you out like a starved man, catching all of your essence from your initial orgasm and cajoling you into another one as he shoved his tongue right into you.

Your hand reached down, fingers tangling with his cherry blossom locks, not knowing whether you want to push him or keep him right where he was. He moaned as he felt your walls clenching, the vibrations caused by his voice stimulating you further, and in no time, you were releasing into his mouth again, your high hitting you like a speeding truck, slamming onto you and leaving you a shaking mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm down, chuckling in between each intake of breath when you felt Sukuna planting ephemeral kisses on your feverish skin, working his way up this time, worshipping your body before catching your lips in his where you tasted yourself on him.

"Can I eat you forever?" he asked with a groan. "You taste exquisite, my love."

"Alright," you panted, "But before that..." You looked him in the eye, running your hand down his chiseled abs until you reached the band of his boxers, excitement filling you as you palmed his crotch over the fabric. You snickered when his whole body seized on top of you, but you were just as out of breath feeling how massive and warm he was against your palm. You bit your lip as your hand moved, rubbing him slowly. Sukuna's eyes drooped a little as he drank in the clouded look in your eyes.

Satoru wasn't wrong about the condoms, and it further got proven to you when you pushed Sukuna’s underwear down and he rose up to his knees, finishing the job. You swore your eyes were going to pop out of their sockets when his length was released from its restraints, slapping against his stomach, thick, long and standing proud, its pink tip leaking precum that dripped down, following a prominent vein on its underside. You never wanted to put anything in your mouth as much as you wanted his dick, but the idea of it stretching you and ripping you apart from between your legs was more intriguing.

Sukuna smirked down at you. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

"That's an understatement." You swallowed hard, taking you herculean effort to look at his face instead. "I don't just wanna look at it though."

He reached over to the nightstand, taking out that familiar bag from Satoru, quickly rummaging through it. "I'd be insulted if that's all you wanna do." He said as he took out a packet, about to rip it but you shook your head, taking it away from him.

He arched a brow at you. "You don't...Are you –"

"Stop asking me if I'm sure. I'm certain as I'll ever be." You smiled at him. "Or maybe I'll change my mind if you keep asking."

Laughing, he bent down, positioning himself between your legs as he took possession of your lips once more. You took a deep breath when you felt his tip nudging between your folds, teasing you while he busied himself with tracing the topography of your body as if committing it to memory.

Watching him now, you wished you've met him earlier in your life, loved him longer than you have at present. If you knew someone like Sukuna would come to care for you as much as he does, even in acts that are mostly governed by sheer instinct and senses, driven by need and lust, you would have combed the earth to find him. He cares so damn much for you that you knew he will find it in him to stop if you just said so even at his own expense.

"Sukuna..." his name spilled from your mouth, wanting him all for yourself, body, heart and soul. "Baby, please..." You were pleading, but for what, you didn't know exactly.

"Yes, my love?" he questioned, a smug grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the mess that you are beneath him. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you whimpered, raising your hip to meet his cock, hard and burning on your skin. "I want you," you breathed out, the delicious torture in your voice coming to a crescendo when he thrust in agonizingly slow, making your wish his command.

He stretched you, gradually, gently as if he was afraid to break you, but your breath hitched for a different reason entirely. His girth left a slight burn as he pushed in, the rapturous feel of him invading your space and being wrapped in your flesh making a heated mess out of you as you grabbed everything you can get a grip on – the sheets, his shoulders, the pillow nearest to you – trying to anchor yourself from the sudden high of knowing he was inside you.

Your eyes watered at the sheer thought of being connected to him so deeply, and you found yourself falling to blissful surrender when he finally bottomed out. You felt him twitch inside you, but instead of moving as he wished, he cupped your face, delicately brushing his fingers over your flushed cheeks. He had that look of disquiet as he examined your expressions.

"You okay?"

You nodded, beaming in your state of stupor. "Please…move."

Sukuna begins to do as he was told, sliding in and out and acquainting you to his rhythm, his intense eyes hooded yet intense as he regarded you, aware of every nuance of your expressions with every single thrust. He started picking up the pace when he felt you wrap your legs around him, hitting you deeper every single time.

Pleasurable groans elicited from Sukuna's lips as he held himself up, driving his hips against yours repeatedly. "You're so tight," he rasped, his snagged breaths hot on your ears. "You feel so good."

"So good," you repeated, completely going out of it when the mere brushing of his rod against your walls drove you over the edge. You clenched tight around him and he let out a groan, eyes rounding when he realized you were close.

"Let go, baby. Cum for me," he said between pants as he pounded onto you unrelentingly.

You spoke broken syllables of his name as you came around him, riding you through your high. Acid white flashes started to flash behind your eyelids, your back arching from the bed as you keened loudly, too enraptured and absorbed in the pleasure that he was giving you.

However, before you could even recover, Sukuna lifted you off the bed, holding you against him so that your breast were rubbing against his taut chest. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping onto his shoulders while you sat astride him on your knees.

"You'll give me one more, won't you, my love?" he said, thrusting up to you whilst he gripped your waist so tight you knew you will have bruises after, making you meet every single push of his thick length.

Both your moans filled the room along with skin hitting skin, the friction between you two kept at bay by the sheen of sweat that covered your bodies. He held onto the back of your neck, roughly kissing you, your tongues dancing the lovers' minuet. Your lungs begged for air, but you were reluctant to be released from Sukuna's wild kisses while he fucked you senseless.

"Fuck," he growled through gritted teeth. "I love you," he whispered repeatedly like a mantra.

You felt him getting harder inside you as he hastened his pace, ramming into you faster and stronger, and in no time, you were screaming out his name as you came undone again with him following shortly after you did, a deep groan falling out of his mouth in a dragged out note when he spilled his seed inside of you, making you feel even fuller, your walls throbbing around his softening length.

Spent, you both fell back on the welcoming softness of the mattress with him still inside you. He landed on top of you, catching his breath while he rested his head on the crook of your neck while you wrapped your arm around him, your fingers carding through his damp locks.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he purred in hushed tones once he caught your breath.

Your brows furrowed in perplexity. “I didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head, pulling out and rolling away, his eyes between your thighs, watching as your mixed juices dripped down on the sheets. “I’m not just talking about your body and how you felt. That in itself is amazing, but I’m referring to everything that you are.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck, all the way to your scalp. Abashed, you covered your face with your hands. “Don’t say things like that. You’re making me a shy mess. Geez.”

“Hey, look at me.” He clucked his tongue when you didn’t move, taking your hands off of your face. When you finally did as you were told, he said, “I mean it. Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I should be saying that. You’re so kind to me, and I feel how much you care for me every single time you say or do something. And I’m just selfish, really.”

“No, you’re not?”

“I am, Sukuna. I want you all to myself from that time you first kissed me, but I didn’t really do much to make that happen because I’m also a wimp, so thank you for going the extra mile for me.” You smiled slightly, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

“Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true. You’re always the one putting in the effort.”

“Because I want to.” He suddenly sat up, pulling you by the arm to lift you up when you gasped, feeling a sudden jolt of pain at the base of your back and the joints on your thighs at your sudden movement. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

You raised a finger, moving on the mattress on your own while you held onto his arm for support. “Give me a moment.”

Sukuna regarded you with wide eyes. “Did I hurt you?” He sat beside you, wrapping arm around your shoulder and soothingly rubbing your arm. “Are you aching anywhere?”

“A bit, but it’s the good kind.” You smirked at him. “You’re amazing,” you said, imitating his tone earlier when he said you’re beautiful, your eyes traveling to his crotch. “You wrecked me, my love.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or be upset. “You say the most outrageous things and it doesn’t help that you don’t hold back either.”

“Too shocking?” you offered.

“Scandalous!” he quipped, chuckling and you joined in on the laughter, the merry sound breaking through the stillness. “Can I carry you now?”

“Sure.” You lifted your arms, latching onto his neck, letting him take you to the bathroom.

“Let’s wash up and take a dip.”

You nodded and let him have his way around you, standing on the shower stall with him as he did everything while you just held onto him, your legs still wobbly. He kissed you on the cheek, the action soft and delicate, filling you with happiness. You can’t believe he is real.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he spoke against your skin.

You pulled away from him, placing your hand on either side of his face, and with a triumphant smile, you said, “I’m not. Never will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Don’t argue.” You pecked him on the lips.

Sukuna beamed at you toothily. “Alright, sweetheart.”

He carried you out of the bath and out of the sliding doors that led to the hot spring, setting you down into the water carefully as if you’d break if he didn’t take caution. The hot water felt glorious on your skin, immediately melting the knots of your muscles as you sat between his legs, both of you submerged chest-deep.

“Damn, that feels good,” you sighed, mollified as you leaned against Sukuna’s broad chest, closing your eyes in bliss. “I can stay here forever.”

“Are you talking about the hot spring?”

“Yes and no,” you said without hesitation. “The water feels nice, but it wouldn’t be complete without you holding me.”

“You’re being sweet now after bossing me around earlier?” He wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. “We can always come here when we both have free time. And I’ll always hold you like this.”

“I like that.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, nuzzling on the spot below your ear and breathing in deeply. “You smell divine.”

“I know. I smell like you.”

“Thank heavens then cause that’s what seemed to lure you to me,” he kidded.

You just smiled, reaching blindly to place your palm on his cheek, trying to get a semblance of reality although it was already staring you in the face, the emotions and sensations he has making you feel very much real, but you seem to be in a dream state, unable to come to terms with the fact that spring has finally come for you in the person of the man whose arms held you tight and close to his heart.

“Sukuna…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thanks for existing."

-THE END-

So, I made Megumi's mom's name here "Miriai." I made her an OC because I can't just keep referring to her as "she/her." It's quite confusing. I hope this doesn't bother anyone. I cringed, too, trust me.

Okay, Toji is also OOC here. Haha! I went all the way with conjuring these characteristics and since Sukuna, my love, is super soft here (he has cherry blossom tats XD), why not Toji, too?

Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this fic! Stay tuned for more. Love you guys :)

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

189 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 4 years ago

Text

This Week In BL

Feb 2021 Part 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series Thai

1000 Stars Ep 4 - so flipping lovely, I’ve come entirely around to this show.

Manner of Death Ep 13 - the penultimate episode was as angsty & twisty as we could want, but it’s starting to feel a bit stretched. Although new tag #oakcake is the best thing ever.

Brothers Ep 2 - still a mess but there’s a cute foodie side couple (young college student wants cute older baker). As the world’s foremost ChampDoc proponent I am obviously in it for them. The other couples though... eek.

Ongoing Series Not Thai

You Are Ma Boy Ep 6 (Vietnam) - second week running with no new episode and no indication as to why. If it ended at 5 then it ended on a cliffhanger. Grrr.

Amore Ep 27 (Pinoy) - FINALLY finished its run at 27 episodes! TWENTY SEVEN. I stopped watching it ages ago but it’s done now so if you’re a binger and you need to see the “everyone wants Joey” show, it’s all on YouTube. We salute your bravery.

Stand Alones

Finally watched Korea’s Step For You from 2018 (in preparation for You Make Me Dance). OMG it’s SO CUTE. And who says Korea can’t do kisses? Oh wait, that was me. Anyway, no dead fish here. School newspaper journalist has to interview the next big thing senior dancer and falls in love with him. Short af but ADORABLE.

I got my brains back and decided to FINALLY watch 2015 Japanese BL Seven Days. It comes in two parts: Seven Days: Monday - Thursday & Seven Days: Friday - Sunday. You can watch it eng subbed on YouTube. It’s one of the best Japanese BLs ever made (FIGHT ME) and that’s because it has a lot of the breezy style of something like 2gether (with, sadly the same heat level - low). The leads have a similar comfort level with each other which yields up fantastic on screen chemistry. It’s a charming af high school story with none of the usual stalker/obsession/rapey elements (nor the egregiously cartoonish humor) I’ve come to expect from Japanese BL. Despite the setting, it’s a lot more in the Cherry Magic vain than, say, Takumi-kun. GO WATCH IT. The hair is bonkers, but if that’s all I can think of bad to say, you know it must be good.

The TharnType Wedding Special PPV dropped last week. Champ & Doc officially got together so I was happy. They hit a bunch of tropes, said I do, and that was that. I pronounce it...

Breaking News - So Many Teasers & They Dark AF

More promos for HIStory 4 keep dropping so I think we can assume this is coming sooner rather than later. (Taiwan doesn’t raise funding the way Thailand does with test teasers, so we only see promo when the thing has started filming.)

We Best Love 2 dropped its trailer. It’s a doozie. We’re all hoping for a happy ever after but frankly Taiwan means 50/50 chance at best. They love pathos and many of us will never recover from HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count. I’m terrified by the season 2 trailer.

You Make Me Dance dropped a teaser, that’s our next one out of Korea.

Lovely Writer showed its dark underbelly with a new angst-riddled teaser... what’s that? A wheaser?

Secret Admirer the Series dropped its first teaser. I had this one on the rumors list but not actual, so I bumped it up in the upcoming 2021 BL master post. It’s only a taste, it could be gunning for 2022. The director can’t be trusted with happy endings - so I’m not sure about it.

Gossip

Wild rumors persist that there will be a new 2gether installment in which someone gets married. I wouldn’t be surprised to see GMMTV milk that cash cow especially if F4 is delayed. (With all these BLs featuring marriage, maybe the Thai government will legalize it on account of the boost destination weddings would give the tourist industry post covid?)

Bad Roommate dropped a teaser for all you Gen Y Padlock lovers out there (waves at @heretherebedork). Do we trust Star Hunter after the Gen Y debacle? Maybe? I don’t know. Who cares, it’s fresh content.

More rumors of a We Best Love special episode before season 2. If they’re true my guess is it’s another behind the scenes thingy.

Fish Upon the Sky is reported to drop ep 1 on Friday, April 9th, 2021! This is the rivals to lovers BL I’ve been waiting for!

I am SO FLIPPING EXCITED.

Initial murmurs about Close Friend - a 6 ep run featuring established BL ships from an unknown director: KimCop (2Moons & Gen Y), OhmFluke (Until We Meet Again), JimmyTommy & MaxNat (Why R U), JaFirst (TharnType 2), and YoonLay (YYY). Either each couple gets their own episode (like Our Skyy) or it will be more like You Never Eat Alone. Ships may or may not be playing the same characters as previous.

A few more promo shots posted for Y-Destiny. It looks more serious than director Cheewin normally goes for (YYY & You Never Eat Alone). I don’t know if that means anything or if it’s just a mature styling we’re seeing in Thai BL as a result of the actors getting older and the influence of Manner of Death and KinnPorsche.

Speaking of You Never Eat Alone is supposed to be finally dropping official Eng Subs somewhere, and ep 9 features Prem & Boun. I’m not bothering with this one so I don’t know where it’s posting.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

155 notes · View notes

dat-silvers-girl · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 3,369 times in 2021

161 posts created (5%)

3208 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.9 posts.

I added 1,197 tags in 2021

#hogwarts mystery - 244 posts

#hphm - 235 posts

#harry potter hogwarts mystery - 152 posts

#sarahi silvers - 127 posts

#hphm mc - 94 posts

#hogwarts mystery mc - 89 posts

#miitopia - 65 posts

#hphm x miitopia - 65 posts

#miitopia 3ds - 64 posts

#patricia rakepick - 62 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#if i have to go to college this monday again i'll be this close to deleting my wips just so that i can study things nobody cares about

My Top Posts in 2021

Friday Night Funkin: Sphinx Club edition

Here you go @weirdcursedvaultkid!!! In reference to this, Merula and Ismelda are now ready for a proper rap battle!

Have fun bopping on the speakers, Alex! ❤️

60 notes • Posted 2021-05-16 21:06:25 GMT

"I've never gone all out before. I'll show you what I can do."

I enjoyed the duel with Rakepick in chapter 42 and all, but I really wish it was more epic. In my headcanon, Sarahi uses the smokescreen spell, Fumos, to distract Rakepick and when the smoke cleared, she'd literally pointed dozens of arrows at her. That was obviously not good.

Made a loading screen version too because it was fun.

61 notes • Posted 2021-02-09 19:11:50 GMT

"Happy Birthday Sarahi..."

Today is 11 September 2021, therefore mine, and Sarahi's birthday! I'm always just overly excited on my birthday for no reason whatsoever. I guess while I'm not exactly ready to grow up, I do find it amazing, personally, that I am, in fact, getting older. As of today, I am now 19 years old, but my brain mostly goes towards the fact that I will be 20 next year. It feels weird to me, but it's also rather thrilling.

I always make a birthday drawing for myself in advance, but I was late this year and only finished this soft Saranby piece at 5 PM. I have to say, I think this is the softest Sarnaby drawing I have made to date. I wanted to make this last year, as this is something that happens in Year 6, when Sarahi turns 17, but I forgot then, so I made it this year instead.

In Year 6, Sarahi doesn't spend her birthday with her friends. After putting on the dress Andre had given her as an early present, she goes to Diagon Alley to wait for Jacob, who had promised a week ago that he would show up for her birthday. He did show up, and presented Sarahi with a music box he had finished recently. Sarahi spent as much time as possible with him, but Jacob had to leave quickly. Even then, she only returned to Hogwarts in the evening. By then, her friends had already gotten worried and had been looking for her for hours. Barnaby eventually finds Sarahi in the Astronomy tower as it was getting dark, playing the tune of the music box on repeat. Soon enough, he sits down next to her and asks her where she had been. Sarahi explained where she was all day and her concerns, seemingly uncomfortable. Barnaby is thoughtful as ever, decides not to pry further, and just spends the evening with Sarahi, giving her as much affection as he possibly could. The two spent a while in the Astronomy tower, before Sarahi agreed with him to go have dinner and see her friends. At dinner, everyone is happy to finally see her (especially Andre who is so proud of himself for making the dress), and give presents of their own to Sarahi. She also recieves some gifts from her muggle friends back home.

61 notes • Posted 2021-09-11 12:07:03 GMT

OKAY-

OKAY JAM CITY WHO DID THIS?

I'd like to meet you and shake your hand.

68 notes • Posted 2021-09-30 04:14:28 GMT

SPOILERS for Year 6 Chapter 18 and later

OKAY I JUST REALIZED THIS BUT HEAR ME OUT-

Tagging my fellow Rowan lovers/friends because I think you may like this?

@weasley-adoptee @wandsandrings @adellovesrowan @carewyncromwell @carmilla-the-bird

So we know that Jam City apparently “had to” kill Rowan off in Year 6 Chapter 18 because we know in canon she’s not the youngest Professor at Hogwarts.

BULLSHIT!!!!!

That “canon” problem could have EASILY been avoided by making it so Rowan DID become the youngest Professor, but AT ANOTHER SCHOOL!

Imagine this: Rowan is gravely injured by a considerably less lethal curse (than Avada Kedavra at least). Her parents now are terrified of literal attempted murder, and decide to switch her school for her last 2 years of education.

Rowan could be left with scars like the ones @immagrosscandy once made? And once she has recovered in the Hospital Wing, we visit her, and she gives MC the news.

NO ONE IS HAPPY ABOUT THIS. ROWAN DON’T WANNA LEAVE. MC DON’T WANT HER TO LEAVE. BUT MC KNOWS THEY’LL BE SAFE SOMEWHERE ELSE. THERE IS CRYING. THERE IS GONNA BE A TEARFUL GOODBYE. THERE WILL BE THE PROMISE THAT WE WILL ALWAYS BE BEST FRIENDS! THERE WILL BE THE PROMISE OF WRITING TO EACH OTHER AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE!

And you know where Rowan goes? The Brazilian Wizarding School, Castleobruxo! Maybe let’s assume she has some family there. And that’s when Alanza comes in! (Alternatively, Ilvermorny is also an option, but I’m just saying.)

And because we had to let go of Rowan because of Rakepick’s antics, the Circle of Khanna could still be made in her honor. And once we’ve thoroughly kicked Rakepick’s ass, write to Rowan about it, and she replies “I’d normally pummel her with my extensive vocabulary of profanities, but I’m not going to write them down. I hope you gave her a couple punches from me.”

BONUS: The Head Kid TLSQ

MC writes to Rowan that Dumbledore offered us the position. Rowan writes back saying she’s proud of us, and also writes some stuff in Portugese (with translations), while excitedly telling us that she’s picking up the language and getting better, and how amazing Castleobruxo is. MC misses her extremely so we can’t share her enthusiasm very much even when we try. The whole “Dream Rowan” conversation could happen, instead, when Rowan sends MC a letter encouraging them to take it up.

In the end, MC sends her another letter saying we got the position and the badge, and we go the extra mile of even sending her the badge so she can see it. Rowan is already doing excited SQUEEEEEEEEEE at breakfast because she’s so proud of her bestie… and she sees that MC sent her two badges- one with MC’s name, and one with ‘Rowan Khanna’ on it. In the letter, MC has written, “Thank you for encouraging me, Rowan, but I will always feel like this position should have been yours. I may be the Head Girl now, but I choose to stand in your place. In the meantime, I requested Dumbledore get a badge for you too. You’re still my Head Girl, and that will never change. I hope you find it as shiny as I do.”

And Rowan fucking cries, like “That’s my best freind, right there!” Feeling a little bad that MC misses her so much, she sends MC her badge back with a letter and a surprise.

“Thanks for getting a badge for me, MC! I love it! Now you take yours and put it on, and remember that we now have matching badges! I miss you too, and I know you do as well, so I decided to send you a gift- the very thing that began our friendship in the first place. You’re my best friend, and I’m trusting you with this. Take care of it, yeah? Love you!”

Lo and behold, Rowan has sent MC the item from the beginning of the game- The scarf, hat, or sweater. AND WE. FUCKIN. TREASURE IT. LIKE WE DO ANYWAY.

As for the future, she tells us that she wants to continue studying at Castleobruxo and become a professor there. And MC and friends will be supportive!

Bottom line is, A LOT OF LETTERS.

TAKE THAT JAM CITY SHITHEADS! I FIXED YOUR PLOT LIKE I ALWAYS DO!

108 notes • Posted 2021-04-29 07:16:27 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #this year in review thing was too funny to not share #and my longest tag was me ranting about college #lmao

10 notes · View notes

honestlyhappyharry · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 10

The Storm

Chapter 9

Something on Tuesday morning felt off. Harry had stayed over again, much to your delight. He didn't want to overstep the boundary lines but everything was falling into place between the two of you, it was like you had gone back to your old relationship. Warm and cozy was all you could feel.

But that morning was cold. Harry's side of the bed was cold, at only 6:30. While he'd not stayed over much you still felt like it was out of character.

You tried to push it out of your head and got out of bed to pack Lily's lunch for Pre K before making her breakfast.

At the bottom of the stairs, you peeked into the lounge to see Harry hunched over on the couch, phone in hand. "Are you okay?" He popped his head up and just started, blankly.

He was a lot different from his usual morning clinginess when he wrapped himself around you, not letting you get up.

"Get out your phone," Harry told you, the tone of his voice made you do it quickly. His tone wasn't mad but upset or a little hurt. You quickly pulled out your phone from your pyjama shorts and waited for his instruction. "Go on Twitter." That sent your head racing, Twitter had always been a wild place of quick-spreading news and all you could think about was what was written about you and Harry.

Lily never crossed your mind.

Harry watched you for a few minutes while you looked through the stream of tweets. "Oh, shit." Finally, you snapped up to meet Harry's eyes again. "This is really, really bad."

"I know," Harry stated, patting the seat next to him so you sat down beside him. "It started with an article on the Daily Mail with a photo of me and Lily from last night, you know when I was carrying her to the car?" You nodded at that. "I didn't even realise anyone was there and I think it was posted after we went to bed. Then, like most things about me, it blew right up on Twitter this morning in the UK before it was morning over here. Pretty much the whole world was tweeting about it before we woke up."

"It would be good if your fans slept." You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled a little. "It's the top trending hashtag. The press is going insane and management have flipped out. I'm not even sure what the fans are thinking, maybe mad or confused or even happy."

Harry dropped his head into his hands and left his phone on the couch beside him. It was still unlocked and you could see more tweets flooding in. If you spent the whole day reading the tweets that were already tweeted, you wouldn't finish reading them for the whole day.

Something like the was bound to happen, Lily looked exactly like Harry so it wasn't hard to put two and two together, but you thought you'd have a few more months. Especially last night because you hadn't seen anyone who even looked interested in who Harry was.

"I'm really sorry, Haz. I know that was not how you wanted it to come out and it's not how I wanted it to come out either." You told him as you wrapped your arms around him, desperately trying to console him.

"I have to do an interview on Wednesday, you know, trying to explain it all. Until then please promise me something." Harry informed you and you nodded, anything he wanted you would agree to. "Please don't look at Twitter until it's all sorted. Or Instagram." He told you and you nodded in agreement.

"Okay, but you're also on a ban." You told him, knowing people would be saying worse about you but you hardly wanted him to see all the bad things that were being said about him.

"I promise." He agreed, before getting up. "I should go, though, got lots of music stuff to do." He told you as he walked to the door, you followed and waited for him to put his shoes on.

"I'll miss you." You told him before he spun around. His hands were instantly on your waist, yours moving to his chest. He kissed your lips for a few seconds, giving you the same electric feeling you always get around him.

He smiled once he pulled away. "I'll miss you more, baby. And I'll call you later." He left you standing there, wondering how wrong it was all about to get.

You woke up on Wednesday, hoping that it was all a bad dream. The worry was almost as bad as Monday. It was made worse by the fact Harry wasn't there. However, the little voice jumping on your bed urged you to get up.

"Mummy, mummy, get up." Lily cheered as she jumped on your bed making you sigh. Sleep-ins were a rarity in your house but no matter what you were grateful to get up to the little girl.

Rolling over to face her you opened your arms so she could fall into them. You placed a kiss on her head and inhaled her smell, it was something you never wanted to forget.

"Are you excited to get your nails done?" You ask her and she nodded quickly. She had been talking about it since you told her what was happening.

"I'm getting pink, remember." She told you excitedly, it wasn't her favourite, yellow was but she was decided.

After breakfast and you both got changed, Lily was in the car with you as you drove to the nail salon. Your nerves were getting worse as you got closer but you arrived 7 minutes early, also 7 minutes before Harry's interview. Thankfully a radio interview limited the face to face contact Harry could have with an interviewer. However, it was live which meant no editing.

"Gem!" Lily said as she saw Gemma. You could tell from dinner that they had clicked. Lily loved listening to her tease Harry and their personalities were a lot alike.

"Lily!" Gemma replied as she picked her up and hugged her. They really looked a lot alike and the few baby photos you could remember of her as a child rendered them identical.

They hugged and you gave Anne a hug. "I'm so sorry about what happened with the press." She whispered and you smiled at the fact that after so much time she still cared enough to say something. It was an ode to how close Harry and Anne were.

"It sucks, but Harry's interview is in a few minutes so hopefully it'll get cleared up." You told her and she nodded. You doubted it would but a little social media cleanse was nice.

Soon after you hugged Gemma who only said, "It'll be alright," to which you nodded, knowing, in the end, it would be.

There was a little bit of resentment towards the press because you wanted to be able to tell the world on your terms.

The nail bar was nice, modern and sleek. Unlike Lily's bold neon pink, you went for a plain white which you figured looked best with summer outfits. Summer was a very exciting idea, having all that time to spend with Harry and Lily.

Once your nails were done Gemma and Anne insisted that you and Lily came with them to lunch, which you gratefully agreed to. It was an incredible feeling to be fitting back into their family after so long apart and you were thankful they were so accepting.

You could tell Anne was itching to talk to you, a more nervous silence falling over the atmosphere. As soon as you got to the restaurant and ordered Anne made Gemma take Lily to the park across the road to play. There was an odd mix of gratitude and fear you were feeling.

"Did you know the first night Harry told me that he had Lily, I was over at his place and I just started crying?" She started and you shook your head before she continued her story. "I was mad at him, so upset with the whole situation but I felt a lot of sympathy for you both. I wouldn't tell him this but you went through worse, raising her all alone which is why I was mad at Harry. I don't know all the details of your breakup but I feel for him when he was in that state." She continued while you nodded, out of all of her qualities she was so emotionally intelligent. "I wanted to talk to you, but he wouldn't let me."

"I know." You said, there was still the unresolved guilt you felt. Anne had an amazing granddaughter she hadn't met until a long time after your parents had met her. But thankfully Anne was much smarter than to be jealous. "I wish you guys had met her before now." She could tell it was the truth. "I even wish I stayed with Harry or went back to tell him or just anything that didn't lead to today."

Anne wasn't going to let you take the fall. "I've never blamed you for what you did. I still blame him for driving you away but I know how hard it was for him." It was nice to pour your heart out to someone who was so neutral despite hearing her son's grief for years.

"It's nice to have someone else to talk to about this." You smile over at her and she returns it.

"Mummy!" A small voice called and Lily came walking over, hand in hand with Gemma. They were both wearing the same famous Styles smirk.

"Hey, how was the park?" You asked her, just before your phone started ringing. Embarrassed, you pulled it out to put it on silent but your eyes glanced at the name.

Harry <3

You look around at everyone else. "It's Harry."

"Take it," Anne told you quickly. "It'll be important or he'd text." She definitely knew him very well. Gemma nodded, taking her seat next to Anne while Lily sat next to you and coloured her colouring book.

"Thanks." You smiled, answering the call as you walked away to somewhere quieter. "Hey." You spoke into the phone.

"Baby." Harry's low voice came over the phone, making a shiver come over your spine. "Did you hear my interview?" He's quick to ask.

By now you had pushed open the doors and you were standing outside. Thankfully the wind wasn't too cold on your skin. There was a little park bench near the restaurant where you sat, phone to your ear. "No, how did it go?"

"It was okay. They asked about Lils, obviously. How old she was, you know the general stuff." You could tell there was something off in his voice, something he wasn't telling you so you didn't reply until he spilt the beans. "Then there was some personal questions about what happened between me and you and why Lily was never known to anyone." He continued, getting quieter.

"Are you alright though?" Even if you didn't want to hear the answer, you had to ask.

"Yeah, I am. I think it's good the story has been set straight. It's going to be better now though and I'm excited to talk you all out without the paparazzi finding out." The air felt lighter, and if you could see yourself you'd see how much more relaxed you looked.

You nodded before realising he couldn't see you. "I mean they'll still probably going to write some terrible stories."

"Yes, and maybe don't go on social media or those celebrity gossip websites, my team is still saying they're still slamming me." His tone was an indicator he was hurt about it, which made you hurt because this whole situation was partly your fault.

"I'm sure they're slamming me too." You laugh, unreciprocated.

His pause was an acknowledgement of his agreement. "Don't want you to get upset, so please don't."

"I should go, we're having lunch." You tell him, thinking back to who you left inside.

"Yeah, how's it all going though?" He asked, still wanting to talk.

"It was really fun, we're had our nails done, we talked a bit and now we're at lunch."You tell him and you can almost see him nod.

"Ooo, anything about me?" He asked quickly, he seemed back to his normal self.

"Hmm, maybe. Is there anything else?" You asked him.

"Can I come over later? I don't really know how this works." He sighs, it made you giggle a little bit about his shyness.

You thought about it for a second before you replied. "I think it works like it used to when we didn't live together but we might as well have been." You confirmed, only imagining his smile.

"Right, so I come over, we have sex, go to sleep and then have some more sex." His crude comments made your eyes widen.

"Harry Edward Styles, I meant you can come over whenever you'd like but maybe I'll retract that." You smirked to yourself as you heard him sigh.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I should also go but don't forget who's name you'll be screaming tonight."

There was no point in trying to reprimand him now. "I'll see you later." You said as you ended the phone call. It made you feel warm inside, as cliché as it was, knowing you'd be the one he fell asleep next to made everything seem better.

You walked the few metres back into the restaurant and talk a seat down at the table. Quickly you realised how long you had been on the phone with Harry.

All Lily, Anne and Gemma looked up at you. "What happened?" Anne was quick to ask.

"He just wanted to talk to me about the I-N-T-E-R-V-I-E-W." You spelt out so Lily remained unaware of what was going on. Not that she seemed to be paying attention to what was going on, she was still colouring.

"Oh, did he say how it went?" Gemma pipped up. She was always curious, that was something you learnt when you dated Harry all those years ago and she was asking how everything was going. Not that you minded it.

You nodded. "He said it was good to get it all out but the media and fans are still in a bit of a frenzy so he's said no social media for me." You let out a sigh, being in mock frustration.

"He's very sweet when he's in love." Gemma didn't even realise the words she was saying until they came out, that was when your eyes widened.

"Gemma," Anne growled, stopping her from talking about how much Harry loved you with a disappointed head tilt. You found it hard to keep the thoughts from racing after that. Did Harry love you? Did you love him? Did his feeling from all those years come back? Had it been long enough?

You hoped the answer was 'yes' but your mind forced some rationalisation. When you first told Harry you loved him you had only been together for 2 months and you had almost been dating him for 3 now. Maybe it was more innocent now.

After what Gemma said, the conversation slowed down a bit but by the time lunch was over you were on top of the world. Everything finally felt like it had fallen into place.

24 notes · View notes

michellejackson · 4 years ago

Link

Prompt by @xphrnzrjh 💞

Fandom: Druck

Pairing: Fatou Jallow/Kieu My Vu

Wordcount: 2434

Acquaintances to study partners to friends to lovers AU

Chapter one

So, Kieu My never meant to go this far. Too bad she was a hopeless slash desperate romantic with horrible, horrible ideas which she just happens to be stupid enough to follow through with.

Being at school after hours wasn’t unusual, many would use the library and study rooms for homework or to work on group projects. So no, that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual however, was stealing keys from the teachers’ lounge, sneaking into the classroom reserved for the English class, finding the paper where the English teacher has partnered up the students for a future team project, stealing it, sneaking out, copying it, swapping around the names in a way that won’t be noticeable, sneaking back in and leaving the altered paper.

Kieu My could admit that that was an out-of-character move for her, but hey, it worked didn’t it? You might think, that’s kind of drastic, don’t you think? Well, yes, but also… let’s just start from the beginning.

Kieu My was about a week into the school year when she noticed her. She was skating around the schoolyard in khakis, a thin purple see-through sweater and a yellow and purple Hawaiian shirt, looking like she owned the place. The look really shouldn’t have worked, but it did, and she looked so damn good. The sight of her had stopped Kieu My in her tracks, forcing her to pay attention as she swiftly skated through the crowds of students until she stopped before a familiar blonde. Nora. Zoe’s sister. Interesting…

Later that day, during lunch, Kieu My tried her best to subtly ask Zoe about her sister’s friend, but she didn’t seem to catch on. Like at all.

“So... how’s Nora? She settling in okay? Got some new friends?” subtle, Kieu My, real subtle.

“Oh, she’s great! She got this new boyfriend, have you seen him? His name is Josh, and he is hot, seriously, wait let me show you a picture.” Turned out it was subtle. Too subtle.

“Oh, good for her, uhm, how about-”

“He’s just the sweetest guy, she’s really happy-” so she spent the next ten minutes looking at pictures of Nora’s boyfriend and listening to her best friend talk him up. Not the way she planned this lunch to go. Before she knew it, they parted ways and she was none the wiser.

She did contemplate asking Nora personally, but decided it would be weird considering she didn’t know her that well. So instead, she spent the rest of that day daydreaming. None of her classes got as much of attention as the skater did. How had she never seen here before? School had been in full motion for a week, and she hadn’t seen any traces of the girl before today, which would mean that they had zero classes together. Sigh.

The weekend was spent trying to find her on Instagram, which was a tedious job. First, she went to Zoe’s account to find Nora’s, which was easy enough, but as it turns out, Nora has a private profile, so she had to improvise further. She spent half an hour trying to remember her boyfriend’s name, and when she remembered that his name was Josh, she looked through the people Zoe follows to find him.

Bad news: Zoe doesn’t follow him.

Good news: Zoe did show her his photos on Instagram, which means he has an open profile.

Bad news: She had to actually find that profile.

Initially, she was going to just write in the name Josh and look through every profile Instagram recommended, but then she came to her senses and realized that that’s a shit idea. So, she logged into the school’s website and looked up the list of current students to go through until she found every single person named Josh.

And bingo. Josh Zimmermann.

Kieu My let out a cry of happiness when she finally found his profile but was again let down when she didn’t see any pictures of the girl. She knew this had been a longshot, but she was still disappointed.

So yeah, she gave up. She took her defeat with stride, and started look through Josh’s pictures, because let’s face it, she had nothing else to do. Maybe she’d find a comment left by the girl or something. Josh was cute, she’d admit. If she wasn’t so hung up on a girl she saw once for five minutes, maybe she’d spent more time admiring, but she was, so she didn’t.

She stopped scrolling when she landed on about the fifth picture Josh had posted of this one girl, a pretty brunette woman. The curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on her tag. Her name was Yara, and her profile was filled with pictures of her with Josh, and some other girls. Her heart skipped a beat. She had a picture with Nora and another brunette. She was friends with Nora.

She quickly scrolled down her profile, continuously looking for the skater girl. She found it almost at the bottom. The picture was taken from the side, but it was without a doubt her. She was wearing glasses and had white locks in her hair, and she was holding a tortoise in her hands. The caption read “meet Maike” . It took an embarrassingly long time before Kieu My realized that Maike was the name of the turtle, and not the skater girl, but let’s not dwell on that.

Yara, bless her soul, had tagged the girl. Kieu My was in such a rush to click on the tag, she accidentally liked the picture. A picture from four months ago. The only picture of Fatou on Yara’s profile that was posted four months ago. She’d liked it. She wished she could say that she unliked it right away, but she was frozen for so long she was sure Yara had gotten the notification. Well, better late than never, right?

She unliked the picture as she cursed herself, and proceeded to click onto Fatou’s profile, which of course, was private. But she wasn’t mad, nor that disappointed, because she had a name now. Her name was Fatou. She’d found her! Fatou. Fatou.

She went back to the list of students.

Fatou Jallow. She continuously spun the name around in her head in English class the following Monday, she’d chosen a window seat this time, which she looked out of while daydreaming yet again.

So when someone sat down next to her, with a quick hello, she was startled to say the least. She was even more startled when she looked up to see the girl. The skater girl. Girl of her daydreams. Fatou. Fatou Jallow.

She just looked at her, in shock mostly, did she just manifest this? Is she starting to have visions now? Is she going crazy? And while Kieu My came up with a hundred reasons to how this could’ve happened, Fatou seemed to shrink under her gaze, seemingly backing off. Wait, no, no, no, no. Goddamn resting bitch face.

She was just about to speak up when the teacher clapped his hands, demanding attention as he started the class, and she was left looking like an asshole. She would’ve physically banged her head into the table if that wouldn’t turn Fatou even more off her.

“And you must be Fatou, nice of you to finally show up-”

Five seconds ago, Kieu My wouldn’t be so sure that Fatou could get any smaller, but the teachers comment seemed to make her especially uncomfortable, and Kieu My found herself wanting to chop his head off. Respectfully.

But Kieu My didn’t say anything, she never did, and she always cursed herself for it. Instead, she found herself looking at Fatou’s hands, placed on the desk next to her. She was fumbling with her thumb ring, which was yellow, and while focusing longer on it, Kieu My realized it was a mood ring. She had half a mind to whip out her phone right then and there to look up the different colors and their meanings, but instead made a mental note to do that later.

“Kieu My? Are you paying attention?”

Her head whipped up as the teacher said her name, and she blushed as she looked to Fatou who had clearly noticed where her focus was as the teacher called her name. The girl displayed a knowing smile, and instead of looking bashful as she did before, she almost looked a little smug. Her ring had turned into a blue-green color and Kieu My’s blush deepened as she caught herself looking at her hands once again.

She just nodded to the teacher, willing him to move on.

“So, as I was saying, I’m pairing you up to work on a project that’s due at the end of the month. You and your partner will be tasked to pick a classic work, rewrite it, and then perform it in front of the class. Got it? Great. Before anyone asks, you will not get to pick your partner, I have already paired everyone up randomly-” he pulled out a paper from under the desk, quickly displaying it before putting it back into the drawer. Fatou groaned and Kieu My rubbed her forehead, already hating this assignment.

“You’ll get more info on Wednesday, but if you go onto page 16-”

Kieu My made sure to pay extra attention to the rest of the class and when it was over, she had almost forgotten about the girl next to her.

That was a lie, she didn’t forget, quite the opposite actually, but she wasn’t about to flaunt that. She took her time packing up her stuff, seeing if Fatou would try to talk to her. She couldn’t be sure if Fatou had left yet, seeing that Kieu My had used up all of her will power to not look her way, but when she’d finished packing up all of her stuff and went to leave, she could see Fatou spending even more time than her to pack her bag.

Fatou looked up from her bag when she finished, smiling at Kieu My. God, she had a beautiful smile. As she stood up to leave, she looked into her eyes and said, “too bad we can’t pick our own partners” . Kieu My doesn’t remember how she reacted, all she remembers is the heat taking over. However, the way she’d reacted had seemed to delight Fatou though, who grinned at her as she left the classroom.

At lunch she sat with Ismail, Zoe being off somewhere with Finn. Kieu My didn’t say much, her mind somewhere else, but that didn’t stop Ismail from talking their head off. As they were talking, Kieu My was only half listening while looking up mood rings on her phone. She looked through different type of mood rings until she found one that looked like Fatou’s, and quickly found the color chart.

So, it seemed like her mood ring consisted of seven main colors, black, gray, yellow, green, blue-green, blue and violet. She thought back to this morning, and what colors Fatou’s ring had been.

At first it had been yellowish, when Kieu My had accidentally blown her off with her deadpan. Okay, yellow; “nervous, mixed emotions, unsettled”. Great. She had unsettled her. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she reminded herself that mood rings weren’t necessary correct. She’d get a chance to fix it, it was fine. It’s fine.

“and you have English with Mr. Strauss, too right? That paired up assignment is already enough for him to be my least favorite person in the world-”

“yeah, and we can’t even pick partners…” Kieu My adds absentmindedly, just to keep them going. She thinks about what Fatou had said, and her smile.

The second color she’d seen on her finger was blue-green, after she’d caught her staring at her hands. Kieu My cringed at herself just thinking about it. Blue-green; “inner emotions, charged, somewhat relaxed” hmm…

“Right?! What an idiot. God, I swear, we should break into the classroom and swap the papers or something…” Ismail joked with a laugh. This got her attention though. She looked up from her phone as Ismail just kept on rambling, further joking about hacking into the school system or something, but she again wasn’t paying attention, because now she was stupid enough to form an even stupider plan.

And that’s how she ended up here. Broken into the classroom, swapping the papers. It seemed like a bad idea when she thought about it after Ismail had said it, and now that she’s doing it, she knows it’s an even worse one than previously imagined.

Kieu My wasn’t one to speak up when she wasn’t called for, or to do anything that would incriminate her, so to say that her hands were shaking and that she was freezing cold out of her own skin was an understatement. She cannot afford to be expelled. But the worst was over now. On the way out she didn’t even bother to drop the keys off where she found them, she was too scared to, so she simply dropped them right outside of the teachers’ lounge and didn’t stop running before the school was too far away to see.

That following Wednesday Kieu My was so paranoid and so sure that she would be found out. When the time for English class came around, she seriously contemplated skipping class for the first time ever. She didn’t though, but she purposefully came just a little late so that the teacher wouldn’t have time to speak to her before class. She was freezing and her hands were shaking.

When she entered the class, the only seat available was the same she sat in last, and she was confused at first, because Fatou sat at the same place at last too. Not the window seat, but the one next to it. She hesitated towards the seat, not sure if it was held off for someone or something, but when Fatou saw her she smiled. And Kieu My melted onto her seat.

The class was surprisingly uneventful, and towards the end she found herself relaxing. Or that was until the teacher decided to announce the partners. As he went through the list, she didn’t blink once.

“Kiey My and Fatou-” …he didn’t even flinch. Kieu My waited just a little longer before letting out a huge breath. Oh my god. He didn’t even notice.

She looked to Fatou, who was already looking at her, smiling.

This time Kieu My smiled back.

#druck #please this is so chaotic idek #read this with a grain of salt #or like a lot of it #kieutou #fatou x kieu my #druck fic #kieutou fic #druck fanfic

36 notes · View notes

urdearestmom · 4 years ago

Text

I'll Walk With You

hello everyone shocked to see me posting yet again???????

i said after i posted that oneshot rehashing 3x06 that i was going to one day write something where mike and max have an actual conversation.... and here it is!! for your reading pleasure :)

i think i did them and their dynamic justice with this and i'm super proud of how it turned out. we're unlikely to ever get something like this in the show but i'm hoping s4 at least gives us them being actual friends so that i can infer that something like this happened between seasons lol

Max’s house is silent as the grave. She isn’t surprised, it’s been like this nearly all the time since the summer. Her stepfather will drink himself back to sleep on the couch, and her mother will say nothing. Max won’t say anything either. The day has barely begun and it’s already shit.

Most of the time she escapes the horrible atmosphere inside her house by going to school, but it’s Spring Break now and she has nowhere to be. She’ll be stuck with her thoughts all day if she doesn’t find something else to do, so after nearly two hours of trying in vain to entertain herself, she decides to head out and see if Lucas is free. She knows Dustin already left town with his mom the night before, and she’s not willing to have Mike third wheel her and Lucas, so she hopes he’s down to go do something with her. He’s good at distracting her from the inescapable cycle of guilt and anger she feels constantly nowadays.

Except when she gets to his house, his parents are in the garage putting things into the trunk of the family car. She stops at the sight. Erica is nowhere to be seen but Lucas is standing in the front doorway and sees Max coming right away. He meets her in the street.

“Max, hey,” he says. “What’s up?”

Max gestures to his house. “I came to see if you wanted to hang out, but it looks like you guys are going somewhere.”

Lucas frowns. “I thought I told you, we’re going to visit my cousins in Chicago for a few days.”

Lord, a few days? Lucas must see it on her face because he scrambles to assure her it’s not for the whole week.

“I’ll be back Wednesday,” he promises.

“Today’s Sunday,” she protests. She knows there’s literally nothing to be done about it, but it still sucks. What’s she going to do all week?

“I swear I told you,” Lucas repeats.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Max answers. “You probably did. I’m sorry, just… forgot.”

He frowns again. Max has been forgetting a lot of things lately. She’s not sure why, it just feels like everything in her life is too much and her brain can’t handle it the way it should. Freshman year has not been the greatest so far.

“You okay?” He asks her, reaching for her hands, and his concern makes her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. He’s probably the only person who actually cares about her well-being, seeing as her mom clearly doesn’t.

Max nods. “Yeah. I just didn’t want to be at home, but I guess I’ll find something else to do. Bye, Lucas,” she says, squeezing his fingers gratefully before turning away to bike off back down the street.

“Hey!” He calls. She turns back. He motions to the big house next door, equally familiar to her. “Mike’s still home, maybe you can ask him?”

Max crosses her arms. “Like he would want to hang out with me,” she scoffs.

Lucas sighs. “Look, I know he can be a bit of an ass sometimes-”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“-But he’s not a bad person, Max, you know that. He’s dealing with a lot right now,” Lucas finishes.

Max rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, he’s not the only one,” she says bitingly. She has never gotten along with the third boy in their group and at this point she isn’t sure she ever will. She’s also not really in the mood to look at his stupid face today, considering it’ll more than likely start an argument and she doesn’t have the energy for that.

“I know,” Lucas says. “I know. But you’re both my best friends and I think you guys are more alike than you think. If you just gave each other another chance, you’d get along.”

Max doesn’t reply. She doesn’t really know what to say because she knows Lucas is only trying to help her with what he thinks is the current best solution, but she doesn’t want to agree with him either.

“Just think about it,” he continues. “He’s the only one not going anywhere so if you really need to see someone…”

She gets what Lucas is implying, but really? “He’d probably laugh in my face if I showed up at the door. I’d rather stay home.”

At that, Lucas raises his arms in surrender. “I’m just saying he wouldn’t turn you away. We don’t lie to each other, alright?”

Max shrugs in response. “Whatever. I’ll figure something out.”

Lucas steps forward quickly to hug her. Pulling back, he keeps his hands on her arms. “I wrote my cousins’ phone number on the back of your math worksheet yesterday if you need it.”

She gives him a tiny nod and he returns it with a small smile, dropping his arms back to his sides.

“I’ll see you first thing Thursday morning,” he adds.

“Thursday,” she repeats, putting one foot back on her bike pedal. “Got it.” What’s she supposed to do until Thursday?

The answer, as it happens, is absolutely nothing. For the rest of Sunday afternoon, Max rides around town with no destination. She stops in a park for a while, sitting down and pulling up blades of grass and sprinkling them around her. A man walking his dog gives her a weird look and she flips the bird at his back. That action feels oddly satisfying, even if he didn’t see it. In the evening she makes her way back to her house, and everyone pretends like she didn’t just spend the entire day gone.

Monday dawns looking and feeling exactly the same, except Max decides to get a start on some homework. This way when Lucas comes back she’ll be free to hang out with him without the thought of her assignments hanging over her head. Her mom leaves to go to work and all it does is make Max hyper aware of Neil’s movements across the house. He’s supposed to go to work too, but Max isn’t sure he will. In fact, she sort of suspects he’s either quit or been fired. He’s missed too many days.

When she’s tired of writing and the lines of her character analysis of Mercutio are starting to blur into the equations on her algebra worksheet, she goes into the kitchen to find something to eat. Neil’s gone, so she makes herself a ham and cheese sandwich and stands by the sink to eat it. She feels exhausted, and it’s barely afternoon.

Hours later, she wakes up from a nap to the sun near setting and the noises of her mom puttering around the kitchen making dinner. The first thing her gaze lands on is the clunky walkie-talkie sitting on her desk, and her thoughts spring to the boys. Specifically, what Lucas said to her the day before.

Maybe it has more merit than she first gave it. It’s true that she doesn’t get along with Mike at all, but she might be willing to try again at some point, if only to appease Lucas. She had wanted to when they all first met. She liked the other boys just fine, but she could tell from the get-go that Mike was their ringleader and his opinion could sway the others. If she wanted to truly feel like a part of the group, they all had to be on board. Even after that, things weren’t so terrible between them; at least until summer and all the drama with El and then everything else that happened. Now, Max’s headspace is too occupied by other problems to care much about trying to repair her somewhat-friendship with him, and Mike has become more and more reclusive by the day. She even thinks she saw him smoking once, down at the far end of the field, which, although she isn’t an expert, she feels is extremely uncharacteristic.

Everything’s just weird now. There’s too many empty holes in all their lives.

Dinner is mostly quiet; nobody in this house ever says anything that has any true meaning anyway. Maybe it’s better this way. Neil ends up on the couch joined by his bottle of whiskey and Max’s mom shoos her away after she’s cleared the table, so Max retreats back to her room. The silence is almost deafening, and she wishes that dumb walkie-talkie on her desk would crackle. What she wouldn’t give for someone to say real words to her.

She considers calling Lucas, but she doesn’t want to bother him with her problems when he’s supposed to be having fun with his cousins. She also doesn’t want Neil to ask who she’s calling. In the end, she ends up tidying her room, gathering up all her comic books and folding the clothes she has on the floor before placing them on her chair. The walkie seems like it’s calling out to her as she glances at it every five seconds, and then finally lets her frustration out on it by snatching it up and launching it at her bed. She doesn’t want to break it, but she did want to throw it. Why does she keep looking at it? It’s not like anyone’s going to call her on it. The only people who might are both out of town.

Her emotions war inside of her. On the one hand, she knows what she wants, what she needs. She needs to talk to someone freely so it has to be someone who relates to what she’s seen, because being stuck virtually alone inside her house for the next few days until Lucas gets back is going to drive her insane. Unfortunately the only person she can think of is someone she isn’t on good terms with, which makes her angry for even having the thought. Is she really desperate enough to potentially embarrass herself?

Damn Lucas for putting the idea in her head. She’s sure she never would’ve considered it on her own. Damn Lucas and his stupid advice, damn Dustin for ever speaking to her that day and getting her involved in all their mess, and damn Mike for hating her from day one.

Damn her for going to talk to him anyway. She sneaks out her window, just as she has done to meet Lucas so many times, except it’s after nine and it’s dark out. She brings the walkie with her.

On the way, she wonders why she’s even doing this. She supposes it would make it easier for Lucas and Dustin when they all hang out together (which is getting rarer every week) if she and Mike aren’t constantly at each other’s throats about something or other. She also remembers something El said to her on the phone a while ago that she had forgotten about until this very moment. El had heard enough complaints from both of them about each other and was just wishing they would stop fighting. Max had scoffed at it and been about to launch into another rant about just how much of a jerk Mike was when El had said she didn’t care if they weren’t friends, she just wanted them to stop being so mad all the time.

Max kind of agrees with her. Being angry all the time is exhausting, and there are way worse things in her life to be angry about than Mike Wheeler and his dumb attitude. If she can make peace with him, maybe she won’t feel so out of place around her own friends. And maybe, if they can get over everything that’s happened between them, it’ll give her hope that the rest of her life might look up one day, too.

It’s only when she gets to his house that she realizes she doesn’t know what she wants to say. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a whole conversation, maybe just seeing each other for five minutes will give her enough stability to stay in her house until Lucas returns and she can talk to him instead. She just needs to be around someone who knows the things she’s been through since she moved here, someone who looks at her and knows why she is the way she is. Her mom can never know and will never understand, and Neil is too scary to ever think about approaching him with anything at all.

She drops her bike in the grass by the back of the house, making her way to the basement door where she knows the boys like to be. He’s probably in there still. Her stomach is roiling with nerves, scared that he’ll open the door and glare at her like he usually does, but she remembers there’s another way he looks at her sometimes. There are moments at school, when she passes the gym or sees the basketball team, where Max gets overwhelmed at the memories of her dead stepbrother. It’s almost like she can smell him, the way he used to get up in her face when he yelled at her and the way he looked when he died apologizing to her. It’s moments like that when Dustin and Lucas will be distracted with some petty disagreement that she looks to Mike and his gaze contains solidarity instead of hostility; reassurement that he knows what it feels like to be reminded at every turn of someone you cared about who is gone. He was there, too, and saw Billy sacrifice himself at the last moment just as she did. It’s not an image either of them can forget.

It’s this that gives her the courage to rap her knuckles on the glass pane of the basement door and wait for an answer. When she waits ten seconds and nothing happens, she frowns and knocks again. He wouldn’t know it’s her, why would he ignore it?

She pushes her face up to the door again and tries to see inside, her breath fogging against the glass, and then realizes all the lights in the basement are off.

“Shit,” she says quietly. She doesn’t want to show up at the front door at this time of night. His mom will probably answer and Max doesn’t want to explain herself. She wanders around to the front of the house anyway, looking at which lights are on. There’s one on the ground floor that flickers and seems like it might be a TV, and there’s one on in a room on the second floor. That room has pink wallpaper, though, so Max decides to assume it’s not the one she’s looking for. The middle upstairs window is dark, and the one on the left has the blinds pulled halfway down, but she spots a familiar figure walking past it in the half second her eyes jump to it. Bingo.

She takes a breath to steel herself before bringing the walkie-talkie out of her jacket pocket and pressing down on the button. “Mike, do you copy? It’s Max. Over.”

The walkie crackles with static for a few seconds, and then clears up as an answer comes through. “Yeah, I copy. What do you want? Over.”

“Can you come outside?”

It crackles again in the silence, and Max thinks that maybe this was insane and she should just go home. Then, “You’re outside?”

The blinds lift all the way up and Max sees Mike’s expression change from confused to surprised, like he didn’t actually believe she was there. In a second, he has the window pulled up too and his head sticking out of it.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his tone of voice anxious, and Max realizes he probably thinks something horrible has happened. In his head, there’s likely no other reason she of all people would show up at his house at close to ten at night.

“Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she says, glancing away from him above her and noticing she’s standing in front of the front door. This is not a good place to be. “I just- didn’t want to be alone.”

She looks back up to find him staring at her like she’s grown another head. “So you came to me?”

Max huffs and crosses her arms. “Well, there’s no one else to go to!”

“Keep your voice down!” He hisses. “Do you want my mom to hear you?”

She glares. She’s starting to think that this was a bad idea after all.

After a few seconds of mutinous eye contact, Mike puts a hand to his forehead exasperatedly. “Give me a minute, I’ll meet you at the basement door.” He shuts the window and pulls the blinds down without another word, so Max heeds the order and circles back around to where she left her bike. A few moments later, he comes out the door shrugging on a jacket over what looks like-

“Are those Star Wars pyjamas?” She asks, her mouth twisting into a teasing little smile. What does El see in this guy? As far as she knows, Lucas isn’t this completely nerdy.

He gives her a flat look. “Why do you have to have a problem with everything that I do?”

She frowns. “It was just a question. Relax, jeez.”

In response, Mike puts his hands in his pockets and looks at her. “So what do you want to do?”

Max balks for a second, awkwardness taking over her. This is so weird. She’s never willingly chosen to spend any of her time alone with Mike, and now she doesn’t know what to do.

“Um… just- walk around, maybe?”

He shrugs at her answer and starts walking toward the line of trees behind the house, where there’s a little path that leads off to the next street. Max follows quietly, a little moonlight shining down on them, and she thinks that the silence between them doesn’t feel as explosive as it usually does.

Somewhere along the way, after they’ve crossed another street and gone down a path between two houses, Mike takes something shiny out of his pocket and starts playing with it, and Max sees that it’s a lighter.

“What’s that for?” She asks.

“Lighting things up,” he says.

“You smoke?”

“Only sometimes.”

“So what’s it for the other times?”

He looks at her and his eyebrows furrow for a quick second, seemingly surprised that she inferred something about him correctly.

Mike shrugs again. “Sometimes I go out to the woods and set dead leaves on fire one at a time just to watch them burn. It’s weird how something that was alive once can just disintegrate right in front of you.”

Max isn’t sure what to say to that, but she offers something anyway. “Sometimes I steal my stepdad’s Bowie knife. Use it to stab trees,” she says casually. “Sometimes I even carve that I hate him into them.”

She’s never told Lucas that. Something in her knows that he wouldn’t relate, that his way of dealing with his anger is much calmer and reserved, but Mike’s admission of low-level violence makes her feel less crazy for her own. Maybe Lucas was right in saying they’re more alike than they think they are.

They come out of the trees behind the houses, and the path continues down a hill to a small playground area. There's a swing set that Max sits down on, the cold rubber biting through the fabric of her jeans and making her shiver. The chains creak when Mike sits in the one next to her. He’s digging through his pockets for something.

Max is almost surprised when he pulls out a box of cigarettes and plucks one from the pack, lighting it, but given what he’d just told her two minutes ago it’s not that shocking. He takes a pull from it and then blows the smoke out into the air slowly.

“You want some?” He asks, turning to her.

She remembers the choking sensation she’d felt that time Billy had offered her a drag from his cigarette, and then her mom’s reaction to it.

“Yeah, why not.” Maybe if she still smells like smoke tomorrow, her mom will care enough to ask where she’s been.

Mike hands it to her and the tips of his fingers are warm. “You’ve smoked before?”

“Once,” Max says.

He nods and watches her, and she tries not to let the hot, ashy air she breathes in make her choke. She holds it for a few seconds and then blows it out, and it makes her feel less nervous than she was before about this whole situation.

The pair of them sit there in the darkness for a few minutes, sharing the cigarette in silence, before Max thinks to ask a question she never got a real answer for.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Mike doesn’t look at her, sucking in another breath of smoke. “I don’t hate you.”

“You sure act like you do.”

“Oh, and you don’t?” He says sarcastically, still not looking at her. “If I hated you why would I be here right now?”

“Well, if I hated you, why would I have come talk to you?” She retorts, trying to restrain the irritation she knows is probably written all over her. If she doesn’t rein herself in, she knows this is going to go south quicker than she wants it to.

He laughs dryly. “You said it yourself. You only came because there’s no one else.”

Max bites back the anger that’s trying to rise. He does have a point there, but she’s not going to tell him that. He’s also not answering her question.

“Fine. Maybe you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“What’s your problem with me then?”

He hands her the end of the cigarette to finish and grabs onto the chains of the swing, dragging the toes of his Converse through the grass.

“You’re always starting shit with me for no reason and it makes me so tired,” he says. “Like, we’d be friends just fine if we didn’t argue every other day.”

“And whose fault is that…” Max murmurs under her breath, dropping the cigarette stub to the ground and putting it out with her foot.

Mike turns to her sharply. “Uh, yours? You made El break up with me! How am I supposed to forget that?”

“I already told you I didn’t make her!” Max says loudly. Why is he still on this? As far as Max is aware, they’re basically back together anyway so it’s not like it made a difference. “And how am I supposed to forget how shit you made me feel the first week I was here?”

He looks away again. “I was pretty rude, I’ll give you that.”

She scoffs. “That’s underrating it. You were a total asshole.”

He pushes himself forward a little bit and then lets himself swing back. “I guess I never really apologized for that. I do regret it.”

Max stays silent and waits for him to continue. He’s slumped over in the swing, looking smaller and sadder than she’s ever seen him look, and her heart twinges. She recognizes the defeat present in the way his shoulders are hunched, the complete and utter exhaustion at the state of their lives painted on his face. It’s what she sees every day when she looks in the mirror.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like you, or something,” he tells her. “I was jealous that Lucas and Dustin seemed like they were moving on when I was so…”

“Messed up?” She offers.

Mike shrugs. “Yeah. And part of it was out of concern for you, too.”

Max furrows her brows in confusion. That’s new. “Concern?” She asks, shaking her head slowly. Her hair swings around her face like a curtain, blocking her vision, but she wants to look at Mike and see how he explains this. She tucks it away behind her ear.

“Yeah,” he says again. “I could see how fucked up Will was, and I knew how fucked up I was. And Dustin and Lucas are good at pretending stuff doesn’t affect them but I know it did. It does.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want someone new getting mixed up in our shit, okay?” He bursts out, meeting her curious gaze once again. “I didn’t want someone else to have to experience the stuff we did. I thought if I made it obvious that I didn’t want you there, you would leave. You know now, but when Lucas told you we couldn’t tell you stuff for your own safety it was the truth.”

Max thinks about that. She supposes it makes sense. She has noticed that Mike tends to be the guy that worries about everyone else’s safety, and always wants to get to the bottom of the problem before anyone gets hurt. Lucas is the same and it’s something she admires about him, but it’s overtly obvious in Mike when he’s always the one stressing about coming up with plans. Lucas is a little more go-with-what-the-adults-say.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Mike finally says, and his expression is earnest. He’s a bad liar anyway, so Max knows that he means it. Speaking of his lies… she has something to apologize for too.

“I’m sorry too,” she says. “For judging your relationship too fast.”

He makes a weird noise when he registers what she said, almost like a laugh but kind of mad, too. “Yeah, and for making my girlfriend dump me.”

Max reaches out towards him and smacks his arm, a spike of irritation fuelling her. “Mike, how many goddamn times do I have to tell you I didn’t make her?”

“Well, what the hell did you say to her to make her do that?!” He exclaims.

The peace of the previous moment is gone and Max crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “From what she told me, it sounded like you were just lying straight to her face so you didn’t have to see her. All I did was tell her that if you did it again, she should dump your ass. You did it to yourself.”

Mike throws his arms up. “Hopper made me lie! He told me if I didn’t, he wouldn’t let me see her anymore. You seriously think I wouldn’t want to spend time with her? After everything we went through?”

She thinks for a second about the way he’d looked when El had walked back into their lives; the way he had seemed to drop all the negativity he’d been carrying around the second she came through that door. Max remembers thinking she��d never been so sure about someone’s presence in her life.

He’s still on a roll. “What, is that why you’ve dumped Lucas, like, seven times? You just break up with him the second he does something you don’t like without even letting him explain himself?”

Bringing that up is a sore point. Max feels incredibly guilty for the way she’s treated Lucas in the past, and she’s trying to be better. She’d told him once that she knew she could be a jerk like her stepbrother sometimes, that she was angry just like he was, but that she didn’t want to be like him. And then she turned around and behaved exactly like him, manipulating Lucas’ reactions and dumping him over and over because she knew he would come back. It made her feel like she was in control, the dominant one, the complete opposite of what she saw in her mother and what she felt in her house every day.

But she had come to a point where she realized that one day, Lucas would get fed up with her. There would come a day when he wouldn’t stand for it anymore and he’d leave her permanently, and Max didn’t think she could live with that. From then on, she had decided to try harder with him and make things better, to talk about her feelings more. It’s always going to be difficult for her, but Lucas is worth it.

“Don’t say that like you know anything about why I did that,” she says sharply, gripping so tightly onto the chain of the swing that the cold metal feels like ice in her hand.

Mike glares back at her, indignant. “Oh, that’s rich! Like you knew anything about me when you said that shit to El!”

Max stands up suddenly. “I’m tired of the lies, Mike! Do you know what it’s like to live in a house where your mom will watch your brother get beat up and leave the room so she can pretend it didn’t happen? Where she doesn’t care where you go or how you feel or what’s going on with you because if she doesn’t ask, she doesn’t have to lie to herself that it’s okay? Where we all just don’t talk about anything and pretend it’s all fine when it isn’t?”

She’s breathing hard and he’s staring up at her with wide eyes, accustomed to her outbursts by now but not like this. Max sits back down on the swing, hard.

“I broke up with Lucas a lot because it made me feel like I had control,” she admits. “I needed to feel like I was in charge of the situation. I get enough of being treated second-class at home, and I don’t want to be like my mom, ever.”

She looks back at Mike on the other swing and he doesn’t look mad at her anymore, only like he’s processing what he’s just heard. It lets her own anger drain out of her.

“When El told me what you said, it reminded me of my mom,” Max continues. “She seemed so confused on why you would do that and to me it looked like you were just using her when you wanted her and dropping her when you didn’t. My mom kind of… disappears into whoever she’s dating and just goes along with whatever they do, and it looked like that for me,” she finishes.

“I get it,” he says, and Max raises her eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t get it personally, my parents aren’t like that. I just meant I get where you’re coming from. It makes sense why you would think that way.”

“I didn’t want the same thing that happens to my mom to happen to El,” Max adds. “She is her own person, and she of all people deserves the chance to be that.”

At last, they find common ground. “I agree,” Mike replies. “She’s been through enough in her life. And I’m happy you and her are friends now,” he adds. “Seriously. It was kind of weird to imagine her having girl problems or something and talking to my sister about it. I’m glad she has you.”

“I’m glad she has you,” Max says, and Mike looks shocked to hear her say it. “I might not get why, but I know you make her happy somehow. Even if you do wear Star Wars pyjamas.”

“Hey!” He says, offended. “You recognizing it means you’ve seen it too. And I know for a fact you read comics, so you’re just as much of a nerd as me.”

Max shrugs, giving him the point. “At least I can beat you at arcade games.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asks, swinging closer as if to intimidate her.

Max laughs, and it’s a real laugh for the first time in what feels like forever. “You’re on.”

“Tomorrow,” Mike suggests. “Twelve o’clock. I’ll meet you there.”

“Bring painkillers,” she warns him. “You’re gonna need them after I’m done kicking your ass at every. Single. Game.”

“You won’t beat me at Galaga,” he says proudly.

“Wanna bet?”

They stand up and shake hands, and his feels pleasantly warm. It’s a nice change from the frozen chain she was holding onto.

“Loser gets us fries,” Mike adds, and Max agrees to it. As if of one mind, they both turn back up the path they came from.

They’re back across the two streets they crossed and almost all the way back to Mike’s house when Max speaks again.

“So are we good?” She asks. She feels good about having aired out all the conflict she had with him, and he’s had this dumb smile on his face the whole time they’ve been walking back, which she’s choosing to take as a good sign.

“Yeah,” he says, looking at his feet. “We’re good.” He smiles wider.

It brings a small smile to Max’s own face. Having friends feels nice. “Why are you smiling like that?”

He coughs a little, scratching his head. “Just thinking about how happy El will be when she finds out we’re not enemies anymore.”

Max rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “You are so whipped.”

He shrugs as if to say, what can you do?

“I think Lucas and Dustin will benefit from having us not trying to kill each other every five seconds, too,” she says.

“Definitely.”

“Although I’ll probably still be annoyed by half the things you say.”

Mike makes a face like he’s not surprised to hear that. “Don’t worry about it. You’re still annoying, I just like you now. No more actual fighting.”

“Good,” she replies, feeling happier than she has in days as they arrive back in his backyard. She can faintly see her bike lying in the grass.

Mike has the door to the basement halfway open by the time she’s sitting on her bike ready to ride away, and at the last second lays a hand on her arm.

“Hey, anytime you need somewhere to go… I’m usually home,” he says, looking at her directly. It’s a simple thing to say, but she knows what he means by it. He’s telling her that he understands that sometimes her house is not a home, and that she’s always welcome in his if she needs it.

“Thanks,” she responds, and for once she is truly thankful for Mike Wheeler’s existence.

“Well, good night,” he answers, and awkwardly salutes her out of nowhere.

Max squints at him confusedly for a second. “I’ll... see you tomorrow,” she says haltingly.

He looks kind of embarrassed and shuts the door quickly, and Max rides off back to her house. That was random.

However, she is looking forward to tomorrow. She has a feeling Mike’s going to be the type of friend she’s constantly competing with, ribbing back and forth to see who can be worse just like they usually do, but this time knowing they’re both forgiven for their mistakes. It’s different from her other friendships for sure, but she thinks it’ll be good. Lucas is going to be pleased.

Maybe the wait until Thursday won’t be so bad after all.

#YALL please let me know what you think of this #i have so many thoughts on this pairing #SO MANY #also if you liked it please rb to share so more people can read it!! <3 #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things fanfiction #urdearestmom

7 notes · View notes

steppedoffaflight · 4 years ago

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 9

Catch up on Chapter 8 here

You grin, your heart light. “So, why are you calling me today, Van McCann?” You tease. “Are you looking to get off, or pressure me to run away with you again?”

Van chuckles. “You said your hometown was in Michigan?”

“It is,” You confirm.

“Is Detroit somewhere close to it?”

You sit very still. “Um. Really close, actually.” Your brain knows where this is headed but you can’t get your hopes up. Especially after how harshly you’d scolded yourself for your impulsive Phoenix trip. “Why?”

“We have a show there on Wednesday. So I’m calling about the latter.”

You’re going home.

Word count: ~12.3k

Chapter Nine June 2019

The rush of realizing you’re in love with someone felt so foreign yet so achingly familiar all at once. It completely consumed you. You watched the rest of the show in complete euphoria, eager for that moment when Van would finally be off stage.

And when he finally burst through the door, high on post-show adrenaline and dripping with sweat you leap up from your seat, so happy to see him. If he thinks your excitement is out of place he doesn’t mention it, glowing with the satisfaction of putting on a great show.

“Let’s get back to the hotel,” He pants, grabbing for one of the provided towels and vigorously rubbing at his hair.

“Don’t you shower here?”

“Didn’t bring my stuff. Figured you wouldn’t wanna sit here and wait for traffic to die down anyway.”

He’s gathering his things up quickly, stuffing them into the backpack he’d brought with him. He grins over his shoulder. “Think you can stand the smell?”

It’s easy to hide your smile as you hunch over your bag, gathering your own things. “Might be hard, but I’ll try.”

The other boys flit in and out of the room, running around like chickens with their heads cut off, eager to return to the hotel. It’s not long before you find yourself crammed in an SUV with four extremely foul-smelling men as the driver attempts to navigate the short drive to the hotel, eventually pulling up to the back entrance so the boys can avoid the small crowd of fans milling around in front.

It’s a relief to return to your hotel room after a long day, to finally be alone with Van.

He seems surprised that you ask to shower with him. It is completely out of character for you, but you’re too happy tonight to care.

The shower is all business, but afterwards you’re laid out on the bed, hair dripping all over the sheets as Van fucks you, hard. Sex is the only time you get the opportunity to kiss him, and you don’t let it go to waste. Even as his thrusts jar your body and creak the bedframe, you try your hardest to keep your lips connected. Maybe you go overboard, but Van’s noises suggest it’s a good thing.

You’re so pent up that when you come you practically scream, muffling your noises with one of the hotel pillows. The sexual tension in the room is so suffocating that coming feels like it amplifies it rather than releases it. Rather than tense up with oversensitivity your body relaxes, pliant for Van as he continues to break a sweat, grunting with each movement. Instead of dissolving into his usual sloppy thrusts he stays painstakingly consistent, beads of sweat forming on his hairline. When he comes he doesn’t moan so much as gulp for air.

Even when he’s finished he keeps fucking you, gritting his teeth against his own tenderness. You don’t understand what he’s going for until you feel his calloused fingertips return between your legs, stimulating your clit roughly. This orgasm comes easier, floods over you with more intensity, and leaves you helplessly whimpering, scratching up his back in the process.

He’s barely gotten the condom off before he’s climbing off of the bed and stuffing his legs into a pair of boxers. “Smoke with me.”

You scramble after him, tossing a shirt over your head and slinging on the pair of pajama shorts you’d packed before stumbling out onto the balcony.

He’s slumped over in one of the chairs, cigarette already lit.

Your cheeks burn against the cool night air, and you know your hair’s a mess. Van looks as wrecked as you. Without a shirt on you can see the scarlet flush on his chest.

You shift around in your seat as the nicotine relaxes you, trying to get comfortable. No matter how you sit, the throbbing between your legs is prominent.

“You sore?” Van asks.

When you widen your eyes, confused at how he’d know that, he laughs. He rests his elbows on the arms of his chair, imitating your position. “You look like you’re trying to hold yourself up,” He explains.

“Oh. Yeah. It’ll fade, though.”

“Sorry if it was too much.”

You shake your head vigorously as you suck in a hit. “Don’t be.”

“So much adrenaline from the show,” He runs his fingers through his hair. “And looking at you in the shower afterwards, I was just like… Holy shit.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe he’s telling you this.

You shake your head at his compliment to hide the way your cheeks burn hotter and your heartbeat skips.

“I felt the same,” You tell him. If he’s worried he fucked you too hard he must not have seen the way you were sneaking glances at him any chance you had. “Sorry I tore your back up.”

Van laughs. “You can do whatever you want to me, woman.”

“Oh my god. Shut up,” You giggle.

Van throws his hands up. “I’m being honest!”

He’s finished his cigarette, dropping the butt on the ground. “I gotta have another. You?”

For once, you take him up on it.

The next day consists of a terrible emotional hangover. Nothing brings you down from cloud nine faster than time away with the person you love coming to an end. Even worse, tour was kicking off with a bang, and Van didn’t know when he could expect to be back in town again. He was jetting off tomorrow to the next city, and from there the band would finally have a bus and be traveling by road.

Knowing your time was limited should make you appreciate it more, but it has an opposite effect. You’re in a bitter mood the entire drive home. Van notices but keeps pretending not to, a fact that irks you more. You brush it off as dread at returning to work, just to throw him off your scent. As much as your new feelings demanded to be declared to the world, you knew nothing would scare Van away faster than you ruining this casual arrangement.

He drives himself home so that you can drive the Range Rover back to your place. You help him get his bags inside, your chest aching at this time coming to an end.

“Alright,” Van sighs when he’s sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, clapping his hands together. “I’ll see you when I’m back, yeah?”

You try not to flinch at the uncertainty in that sentence and try your best to seem cheerful. You know you fall flat. “Of course, duh.”

Before you know it Van’s wrapped you up in a warm hug, holding you tight.

“Keep your head up, alright?” He says quietly into your hair, rocking you back and forth. “Don’t let work get you down.”

You nod into his chest, and he lets you go. He presses the car keys into your palm.

“And take a nap when you get home,” He tells you, his eyes still locked with yours. You wish you could kiss him goodbye so bad it makes your throat ache. “You’ll feel so much better.”

“I will,” You croak. He gives you a nod, and with that you turn away, your feet feeling like lead as you force yourself down the porch steps and into the car. He gives you a wave as you head for the gates, and you return it with a grimace and one of your own.

And when you get home, you keep your promise to Van. You don’t even bother to unload the car before marching inside, diving into your bed, and bawling your eyes out into your pillow until your heart feels empty and you fall asleep.

It takes every ounce of strength you have in every bone in your body to drag yourself into work the next morning. And the morning after that. And then the weekend arrives, two days of pure emptiness.

You hated being alone but you also couldn’t think of anything more unpleasant than being around other people right now. You spend the weekend consuming vodka at an alarming rate and scrubbing any surface you can spot in your house before falling into bed at night physically exhausted.

By Monday, you’ve decided you’re angry. First it’s at Mary. She knows how you are with relationships. You two have always joked that you dated to marry. As soon as you realize you can’t envision a future with someone your desire for them fizzles out, inevitably souring your connection. Why did she force something between you and Van knowing that it would be temporary? She’s out of line meddling in your love life, and now there’s a price to pay. When she asks about Arizona you practically one-word her, seething about what she’s done.

And then it’s yourself. What Mary did was unforgivable, but you’re the one who went along with it. You’re just as much to blame. You had your fun in San Diego, but of course that wasn’t enough. You kept going back for more. How stupid of you! You knew there was no way things could work out with Van, so you’re an absolute idiot for sleeping with him again, and again, and again. You were playing with fire this entire time. Like, really, taking time off work for a six hour road trip to hang around your ‘friend’? It was so childish. You needed to save your vacation hours for the holidays to spend time with your family.

And Van. He had to be some sort of sociopath, texting you months after your first meeting to take you out to dinner. Why would he take someone out if he wasn’t planning to date them? It had clearly been a ploy to get in your pants, and you’d been so gullible. Now he was off having the time of his life and you were the one suffering in silence.

But as mad as you want to be at Van, you miss him so much it hurts. Having no sure future to look forward to means every day without him is agony. And while you might get angry, it never sticks. How could he have predicted you’d be stupid enough to fall in love? Surely he couldn’t have known you’d do this to yourself. He was too sweet to do something so malicious.

You flip flop between these moods. In the back of your mind you know you’re not being the slightest bit rational, but the hurricane ripping through your heart is not to be reasoned with.

You find a pack of Van’s cigarettes at the bottom of your purse on Wednesday. You’d thrown them in your bag at the venue in Phoenix so he didn’t forget them, but apparently you’d forgotten about them too. For the first time in years you smoke alone. It calms the ache in your heart while you do it, recalling all the conversations you two have shared during your smoke breaks. In that small moment of clarity you know that no matter how much you’re hurting, every moment you spend with Van is worth it all. And when you’re done with the first cigarette you light another, just like he does.

By Saturday you’ve leveled out, embarrassed about your week-long tantrum. You start texting Mary again, spinning a lie about getting over a nasty cold. Everything in your house is spotless, so you’ve started on those untouched books. They help keep you distracted, even if you picture every romantic lead as Van in your mind.

You’re curled up in one of the chairs on your porch, smoking a cigarette and reading when your phone buzzes with a call in your pocket.

Seeing Van’s name on the caller ID pumps pure joy through your veins. Swiping to accept feels like you’re swiping away the awful heartache that’s been plaguing you all week.

“Where are you?” You ask excitedly as your greeting. You enjoy living vicariously though Van’s travels, even if it stings that you can’t be there with him.

“The lovely city of Chicago,” Van replies. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Where are you?”

“On the porch.” You fold the corner of your book, setting it aside and taking a hit of your cigarette.

“Are you having a smoke?”

“I am.”

“Me too,” Van says. “We’re in sync.”

You grin, your heart light. “So, why are you calling me today, Van McCann?” You tease. “Are you looking to get off, or pressure me to run away with you again?”

Van chuckles. “You said your hometown was in Michigan?”

“It is,” You confirm.

“Is Detroit somewhere close to it?”

“We have a show there on Wednesday. So I’m calling about the latter.”

You make a noise into the phone. It’s overjoyed and exasperated all at once. “Ugh, Van! Why do you always put me on the spot like this? I hate you!”

Van’s laughing. “Let’s save the argument, then. See you Wednesday.”

“No, no, no,” You chant, but you’re already grinning. He’s already won. “I can’t fucking roadtrip to Michigan!”

“You’re not gonna. You’re gonna fly. I’ll get you a ticket.”

Of course you’re going. The one loophole in your vacation time was that you’d promised yourself you’d use it for family time, and if Van’s offering to pay for the flight there’s no way you could turn down the chance to surprise everyone at home. It’s a win-win, family time and Van time. Your heart is already bursting with excitement.

You don’t know what to say. Van’s right, you might as well save the argument.

“You don’t have to do that, Van,” You still insist out of guilt.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m being selfish, actually. I’m glad you’ll get to see your parents, but promise you’ll save some time for me.”

“I promise.” It’s the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “Where are you playing?”

“Saint Andrew’s Hall. Seen anyone there?”

“I have!” You exclaim, thinking back to your teenaged days. “But always with my ex-boyfriend,” You confess.

“Christ. So I’ve got competition, then.”

“Guess so,” You taunt.

“I’ll have to make it extra memorable, then.” He doesn’t lose an ounce of smugness through the phone.

“Can’t wait,” You gush.

“Me either.” There’s a happy silence as you two have sealed your plans. Then: “What have you been watching lately?”

“I’m burned out of everything,” You sigh. “I’ve been reading, actually.”

“Reading what?”

“Um.” You pluck the book up from the seat next to you, reading out the title. “It’s some mushy romance thing I bought forever ago, I dunno.”

“What’s it about?”

You hesitate. “Um… I mean… romance?”

“I get that,” Van laughs. “I mean, I’m going mental with nothing to do. Tell me about the book. What happens in it?”

“Oh, um.” His interest shocks you. “Well…”

Without fail, summers had always been a dreadful time for your workload. It was when most of your coworkers wanted to take advantage of their company-provided vacation days, days that you preferred to save for the fall and winter holidays when you could fly home. That meant that their projects had to be distributed among the handful of employees that were in the office reliably, and you knew that your boss directed more of the burden to you than your coworkers. Not as punishment, but simply because she felt she could trust you with the more important work.

The boss in question, Denise, had been who you’d worked under since you’d been hired at the company fresh out of college. She’d even been who you’d conducted your interviews with, save the final one where she’d been joined by a few other directors. And although coworkers had come and gone over the last couple of years, you two had remained a staple in your department, leading to a pretty solid professional relationship between you. That’s how every summer Denise managed to treat each extra project like praise until you’d accepted too many and were drowning in paperwork and emails.

But for the first time ever you were reaping the rewards of your hard work. There had been no raises (considering you were still pretty young and inexperienced), no promotions, only good comments on your performance reviews (which meant very little, really). Instead, your rewards came in the form of emails approving your time-off requests, even on the ridiculously short notice that Van was forcing on you. There was hardly any uncertainty hanging in the air; you’d send the request first thing in the morning, and usually by the time you got back from lunch you’d have the approval sitting in your inbox. And because now you were one of the employees sporadically missing from the office during these summer months, the requests to take on more work were dwindling.

You made Van wait until you’d gotten your approval email before he booked the your flight, and he’d been texting you most of Monday morning pestering you about it. Once you let him know you’ve gotten the green light, there’s only a short half hour of silence from him before he’s sending over screenshots with ticket information and departure times. He’s booked you a flight bright and early, departing at 7 am tomorrow morning. Considering his eagerness, you’re surprised he doesn’t have you taking a red-eye after work.

What surprises you even more is that on Tuesday afternoon, stumbling off of your five hour flight into the familiar airport of your hometown, Van is standing at the gate waiting for you.

As soon as he catches your eye he grins, rushing towards you while you blink at him in shock.

“What are you doing here?” Are your first words to him. He pries the handle of your rolling carry-on suitcase from your fingers, wrapping his own palm around it as he tucks you under his arm, giving you a squeeze as he starts to direct you towards the doors that lead outside.

“Picking you up!” He responds, as chipper as ever.

“I thought I was gonna take an Uber!” That had been the plan, according to the numerous texts you two had exchanged over the weekend.

“I ended up having some free time,” He shrugs. He’s in the same dark jacket he’d been wearing the night you met him, unbuttoned to expose his usual dark button up. You notice this one isn’t black, though.

“A navy button up?” You gasp in faux dramatics, giving the fabric a playful tug. Van’s arm has fallen from your back, you two walking side by side.

He grins as he peeks down at his shirt. “Look at that. All dressed up for you.”

“You are,” You agree. “How are you even in this jacket?” You hadn’t stepped outdoors yet, but you knew without a doubt it was sweltering outside.

“It’s cold in here.”

His words make you realize the crisp, air-conditioned breeze blowing over your arms, and you shiver, clutching the hoodie you’d taken off on the plane tighter to your chest.

You still can’t wrap your head around the experience of Van pacing around the airport, waiting for you. “How did you even get here?” You ask as he directs you towards a set of doors. You can see the waves of summer heat radiating off of all the cars parked on the pavement through the glass.

“Dave drove,” He explains, pressing his palm into the metal push bar to swing the door open for you. A scorching burst of heat instantly greets your body, and it’s so humid it’s hard to breathe as you step out. “He lemme borrow his car.”

You’re quiet for the rest of the walk to the car, trying to process everything through your jet-lag. You’d boarded the plane at seven, been in the air for almost six hours after the delays, and yet when you glance at your phone it’s minutes away from 4 pm here, hours evaporated with the time difference. Van leads the way, dutifully rolling your suitcase to the parking spot where he had parked Dave’s car before popping your carry-on into the trunk and helping you into the passenger seat. The interior of the car has you sweating in the short time it takes Van to round the vehicle to the driver’s side, and you realize he’s been waiting inside for you longer than you’d thought.

There’s not much catching up necessary during the drive, considering you and Van had been texting consistently. You tell him about the toddler that threw a tantrum on the plane, and a woman in the row in front of you that spilled her drink all over the person sitting next to her during turbulence.

Although evening was descending upon Michigan, in typical June fashion the sun was refusing to go down, and therefore the heat simmered just as violently as it did during the early afternoon. That’s why when Van maneuvers the car to the parking lot behind the hotel, you’re shocked to see all of the boys lounging about in the heat, the only slight shade provided by the towering tour bus that was parked back here as well.

As Van pulls Dave’s car into a parking spot, everyone perks up.

“Look who it is!” Bondy calls from where he’s shading his eyes from the sun as he smokes.

You think he’s talking about Van, but Bob stops kicking the soccer ball against the building and gives you a polite wave. Benji gives you a nod in greeting, pacing around with his phone pressed to his ear. You return the wave and the nod, lagging behind Van as he makes his way towards the side of the bus.

“How are you?” Bondy asks, reaching one of his arms out for his usual half hug. He always treats you like you’re one of his own friends, and your heart swells in gratitude.

“I’m good,” You tell him. “Excited to be home.”

“That’s what Van said. We’re in your territory, huh?”

Van was distracted for a moment by Benji, but before you can respond he claps Bondy on the shoulder. “Bondy’s just been to L.A. pride,” He announces before promptly turning back to Benji, pleading to speak on the phone. His sudden interruption leaves Bondy clearly confused.

“Were you also at pride?” He asks, head tilted.

“No,” You laugh. “I think he’s saying that because I’m bi.”

Bondy laughs, the confusion clearing. “Right. Well, cheers.”

You shake your head in amusement, watching Van stalk Benji over the blacktop. Benji is dedicated to keeping the phone for himself, walking backwards away from him, but Van is undeterred.

“Who’s he trying to talk to?”

“Benji’s mum. She adores Van.”

That doesn’t come as any surprise to you.

“He’s already in a better mood.” Bondy speaks so quietly it sounds like he’s musing to himself.

You turn to look at him instead of watching Van’s antics. “I couldn’t imagine Van in a bad mood.”

“Yeah,” Bondy snickers. “Because he’s always in a good one around you.”

You blink at him, unable to think of a response. As you open your mouth to change the topic, Van flounces back towards you two.

“Let’s get your bags,” He chirps. “I’ll show you the room.”

You’re still contemplating what Bondy’s said as Van unlocks the car, helping you take your things up to the hotel room. It’s the same as any other, but it doesn’t have a balcony like the one in Phoenix.

“Where have you been smoking?” You ask, grinning when Van rolls his eyes in frustration.

“Outside. I’ve already gotten locked out of the side door on accident.”

“Aw. That sucks.”

“It does, actually,” Van scoffs at your giggle.

You get your phone plugged in, checking any notifications that have come in since you landed.

Van plops down on the bed. “What are your plans?”

“Um…” You’re distracted while you respond to your mom’s multiple messages. “I’m going to spend today at home, and then my parents can drop me off back here for the night, and tomorrow I’m all yours.”

Van seems pleased with that arrangement. “How are you getting over there?”

You shrug. “I can Uber.”

“I can drive you, if you want.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever works.” You bite down on the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile.

“Turn where?”

“There!” You try to gesture to the intersection Van has clearly passed through.

“Fuck,” Van sighs, immediately having to reroute.

It’s always trippy being back home. As Van struggles to navigate you gaze out the window, looking wistfully at the homes, businesses, and parks that have shaped your childhood.

“This is my old elementary school,” You tell Van when he pulls into the parking lot as part of redirecting.

“Yeah?” He squints at the playground in the distance. It seems like it snaps him out of his frustration as he absorbs that information.

“Could you imagine living in the same area you grew up in?” You ponder aloud as you think about it. “Like, most people at least move a city over, you know what I mean? But imagine being in the exact same place. Like, if I sent my kids to that exact school.”

You watch the school become a blur as Van drives away from it.

“That’s what Llandudno is like, actually. We’ve got, like, one of everything nearby. So if you stay there, then yeah, you’re going to that same school and shopping at that same shop all your life. Which is fucking weird, like you said. You have kids and they live an exact repeat of your life.”

You go silent as you’re lost in thoughts about creating a family of your own, interjecting only to direct Van.

When he’s pulled up to your house you feel your heart start pounding.

“Did you want to come in and say hi?” You ask him as you gather your things.

Van is quiet for a moment. You hope he’s considering it. “Oh, that’s alright,” He says. “This is your time with them.”

Your heart sinks, but you press on with the rest of your pitch that you’d been mentally rehearsing. “Are you sure? They’re gonna ask about you anyway. You can stay for dinner if you’re hungry.”

Van’s expression is unreadable, but then he shakes his head. “I’m okay. Go catch up with them!”

“Okay,” You try to shrug it off. “See you later.”

“Text me when you’re ready!” Van says cheerfully as you exit the car and close the door. You give him a small wave as a final goodbye before turning to head up to your house.

Your family has already been alerted of your arrival, standing in the doorway excitedly. They wave eagerly to Van, who you catch out of your peripheral vision waving back as he pulls away.

You have less than a minute to try and swallow down the lump in your throat before you make it to the porch. The embarrassment over his rejection burns at your cheeks and makes it hard to breathe. You were stupid to even ask. Why would he want to meet your family? That’s not something you do with casual friends.

It’s easy to push it out of your mind once you’re in the front door, surrounded by people who loved you and were overjoyed to see you.

“Y/N, my God,” Your mom immediately pulls you into a hug. “Who was that who just dropped you off?”

“That’s Van.” When your mom releases you you’re immediately pulled into a hug from your dad. “He’s the friend in the band.”

“He’s good looking!” Your mom exclaims, eliciting a laugh from you. Your older brother had cleared his schedule to see you, and you hug him as well. It’s weird how much closer you’ve become to him as you two have aged. You were always at each other’s throats as children.

“He’s the lead singer,” You explain when you’re finally not in the middle of a hug. “So he’s the one everyone goes crazy for, yeah.”

“You should have invited him inside!” Your dad chimes in.

The lump in your throat is back with a vengeance, and you have to swallow it down quickly to speak. “I did. He’s got something to do with the band,” You lie.

“Probably made him nervous with mom and dad standing there,” Your brother laughs.

You laugh weakly. “Yeah… So, dinner?”

The food’s not quite ready yet, so you spend the first part of your time with everyone helping to prepare it. It’s always chaotic trying to cook with your mom watching you like a hawk making sure you’re doing everything exactly right, but with your dad and brother also crowded into the kitchen so as not to miss a second of catching up you feel suffocated almost immediately upon arriving.

For once, you notice you’ve got things to talk about. You’ve usually got very little to say no matter how many questions your family asks; There’s only so many ways to tell them that work is going good, you’re still single, and disperse an entertaining story about a night out here or there before the conversation runs dry. But tonight you find yourself suddenly remembering so many moments you’ve had with Van that you excitedly relay to everyone. Your mom asks what’s good on Netflix, and you find yourself talking about the show you and Van have watched. Your brother asks about a photo you’d posted on Instagram of a desert landscape and you tell them about road tripping to Arizona and hanging out backstage.

When dinner is done and everyone has migrated to the living room, your brother’s shoes resting at the door suddenly remind you of Sam Fender’s. You introduce your family to his music and describe how funny he was when you met him at the party.

“His album is coming out in the fall,” You gush to everyone when they seem impressed with his voice playing through your phone speakers.

“Jesus, sis, you sound like you’re living it up,” Your brother laughs. “Going to celebrity birthday parties? Backstage at shows? Who are you?”

“I thought the same thing!” Your mom agrees, gesturing wildly with her hands. “What have you done with my daughter?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You sigh, exasperated. “You guys act like I was the most boring person in the world!”

“Oh stop,” Your mom scoffs. “We’re only kidding, honey. We don’t think you’re boring. I just think you seem really happy! I’m glad to hear you’re having a lot of fun!”

“You are absolutely the most boring person in the world,” Your brother assures you solemnly. “But at this rate I would encourage you to keep doing whatever drugs you’re on.”

Your mom’s face goes serious. “Are you on drugs, Y/N?”

You give your mom an expression that you hope conveys how crazy she sounds. “No, I’m not on drugs! He’s making a joke!”

“You do smell like cigarettes,” Your dad interjects. “Don’t tell me you’re smoking.”

“That’s from Van.” It’s only a half lie, really.

“Is Van an addict?” Your mom sounds alarmed.

You roll your eyes. “He is about the farthest thing from an addict, mom.”

“Okay, okay,” She throws her hands up in surrender. “I only worry with the whole rockstar thing. I don’t want you dating some junkie.”

You cringe at the word rockstar. “He’s not a rockstar, ew, he’s in a band,” You correct her. “And we’re not dating. Not even close.”

Your mom doesn’t look like she believes it. “Right. Well, if he makes you this happy and he’s as nice a boy as you say he is, maybe you should think about it.”

“We like being friends,” You insist, and it’s the truth. If being friends with Van was the closest you could get to him, you’ll take it in a heartbeat.

By the time Van arrives to pick you up, you’re all talked out. Time had slipped by unnoticed, and it’s past midnight by the time everyone is dispersing with goodbye hugs and promises to be together for the holidays.

You slump into the front passenger seat, exhausted from your long day.

“How was it?”

“It was nice. Dinner was good. Lots and lots and lots of catching up.”

“Yeah? Did they say anything about me?”

You grin. “Of course they did. My mom said you were good-looking, for starters.”

“She couldn’t see me properly,” Van grins. “She didn’t know what she was saying.”

You filter through your mind for anything else you can tell him. You choose to keep talk of how he should’ve joined you and how you two should date to yourself. “She also asked if you were an addict.”

“Christ. What’d you say?”

“I said no. But then I told them about all the weed and your cocaine benders and the molly and actually, I think they’re right.”

There’s a terse moment of silence in the car. You watch Van grip the steering wheel tighter. “You’re taking the piss.”

“Uh, yeah!” You scoff, watching him relax. “Holy fuck, you really think I’d tell them all of that? What the fuck?”

“I dunno what you talk about with your family!” He argues, accidentally turning a corner too fast.

“Not your personal business,” You mumble, crossing your arms. It started out as a joke, but his apparent lack of faith in your ability to keep his secrets actually made you angry. “Nice to know you trust me.”

“I do trust you!” Van insists. “I wouldn’t tell you things in the first place if I didn’t trust you, so stop. Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Mad. Don’t be mad at me.”

The atmosphere in the car relaxes, but you’re still tense. Between your flight, the long conversations, Van’s refusal to have dinner with you and now his lack of trust in you, your muscles were aching from the stress and you were ready for bed. You stay quiet the rest of the way to the hotel.

Van sighs as he puts the car in park. “C’mon,” he urges you quietly.

“I’m not mad,” You tell him, your voice strained. “It’s not a big deal. It’s whatever. I had a really long flight, and a really long day. I’m just really overwhelmed.” You can feel the tears prickling behind your eyes.

Van turns the car off, the space cloaked in silence. You’re both quiet while all of the lights fade until you’re in darkness.

Van looks at you. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes water. “I said I’m not mad. It was a stupid joke to make.”

“It was pretty fucking good, actually,” Van snorts. “You got me. But I should’ve known better, you’re right.”

His attempts to calm the situation only make everything worse. Of course he’s being sweet after a disagreement. As if you couldn’t love him any more than you already thought you did. And you’re full blown crying now, probably having the opposite effect on him.

“Sorry,” You sniffle pathetically.

“Don’t be. I get it. Jet lag really fucks you up.”

You nod into your hands, wiping your tears away.

“I’m gonna smoke before we head up,” Van starts the car in order to crack the window.

“Crack mine,” You tell him, and he does before he shuts the car off.

It’s only after the first hit of your borrowed cigarette that you break out into a watery laugh.

“My mom and dad said I smell like cigarettes,” You explain to Van, who’s looking at you curiously. “They asked me if I smoked and I lied and said no.”

Van thinks that’s hilarious judging by his fit of laughter. “Your parents don’t know you smoke?”

“Fuck, no! All my life they warned me about cigarettes. They weren’t a big fan of the few times they caught me with weed, but the thought of me smoking sends them through the roof. They’d fucking kill me.”

“So how’d you explain the smell?”

“I blamed it on you,” You admit sheepishly. “And that’s not a lie. I’m sorry.” You try to give Van your best puppy dog face in hopes he’ll take pity on you.

Thankfully, he finds the situation funny. “You’re spineless,” He teases. “I’m kidding. That’s fine. I’ll be your scapegoat.”

You’re getting to the point where waking up in hotel rooms doesn’t confuse your brain. What does confuse you is the position you wake up in, much different from how you’d fallen asleep on Van’s chest last night. He’d offered the cuddle as a consolation for your jet-lagged tears, and you’d never been so happy to accept a consolation prize in your life. But somehow you two must have untangled in your sleep, because now you’re on your side facing away from him.

The whole room is still dark and you can hear Van snoring. For once you’ve woken up before him.

As you stretch out to grab your phone off of the nightstand your body brushes Van’s, who you’re suddenly aware is right next to you. Without meaning to you stop breathing, nervous to wake him up. You retract your arm slowly, momentarily forgetting about your phone.

You crane your neck carefully, trying to see exactly how you two were laying. He was on his stomach, the curve of his ass and legs the only thing you can make out beneath the comforter. You flip over to face him as carefully as you can.

His head is resting against the edge of your pillow, and whatever isn’t supported by the pillow is resting in the crook of his bent arm. His mouth is ajar but he’s breathing out of his nose, evident by the snoring that’s intensified by the way the fabric of the pillow is blocking one of his nostrils.

You’ve been as physically close to him as two human bodies can get, but the opportunity to gaze at him can not be wasted. You’re studying the features of his face carefully, your eyes tracing over the contours of his lips when suddenly his phone alarm goes off, startling you.

It doesn’t disturb Van, who only shifts slightly before dozing back off. The phone is too far away for you to do anything about it. You sigh.

“Van?” You’re hesitant when you speak.

“Hmph?”

“Your alarm is going off.”

At that Van starts to shuffle underneath the blankets. One of his arms unfolds so that he can wipe the hair out of his face before he uses his other elbow to support his weight, grasping for his phone.

In his stretch to grab his phone he causes the blankets to slip down, leaving you both mostly uncovered. Instantly your skin protests at the cold hotel room air, and you grasp for the edge of the comforter to haul it back up. It’s slipped just below Van’s thighs, exposing the boxers he’d slept in. As you grip the fabric Van’s finished shutting the alarm off, putting his phone back on the bedside table and flopping onto his back. His readjustment means that you clearly see the way he’s tenting in his boxers.

You tug the blankets up quickly, eyes wide. Van looks like he’s already in the process of drifting back off, eyes closed where he’s laying, oblivious to what you’ve seen. You rest your head back down on the pillow.

“Are you falling back asleep?” You ask after he’s been still for a bit.

“No,” He croaks, but you’re not convinced. He only further proves your point when he gets back on his stomach, curling up into the position he had been in minutes before.

One moment you’re admiring the way his t-shirt stretches across his back, the next your hand has moved of its own accord, your fingers gently scratching him through the fabric. You truly hadn’t meant to do it. But he’s in a white shirt instead of his usual black, and his skin is visible against the cotton, and you’ve been yearning to touch him any chance you get. The fact he was hard only made you crave it more, knowing that he wanted you to touch him as bad as you wanted to touch him.

At the first graze of your fingertips against his shirt you freeze, realizing what you’re doing. You pull your hand away.

Van makes a noise of distaste against the pillow. It sounds like he says something, but you can’t make his words out.

“What?”

“Tease,” He huffs.

You frown. “How?”

“Because,” He mumbles sleepily, shifting against the pillow so that he’s looking at you. “Scratch my back.”

“We gotta get up.”

“After you scratch my back.”

You reach out and run your nails over his shirt as if you’d done it a million times. He smiles, closing his eyes in bliss as you humor him, loosely guiding your hand up and down his spine and over his shoulders.

“Ready to get up yet?” You ask in amusement when Van relaxes into the mattress even more.

“No,” He groans. “I’m so fucking tired.”

Without thinking about it your fingers slide under the hem of Van’s shirt, so that now you’re scratching his skin. You can feel his muscles twitching beneath your fingertips.

“You’re never tired,” You point out.

“I am when I’ve been jet-lagged for a week straight. Fuck.”

Even while he’s huffing about waking up he’s preening under your touch, clearly enjoying himself.

“I’ll get coffee going,” You tell him before slipping your hand out of his shirt, earning yourself a dirty look.

When you head for the coffee machine is when Van realizes you’re not coming back, finally yawning and forcing himself to sit up.

“I gotta get in the shower.”

He’s rubbing his eyes as he finally emerges from bed, stumbling to grab his toiletries from his luggage. You chance a peek at him when he stands up straight, but he’s strategically carrying a pouch with stuff for his morning shave so that his hard on’s concealed.

You busy yourself preparing both of your coffees, filling two disposable cups. He finally makes it into the bathroom, flicking the lights on and getting the water running before shutting the door, the knob clicking as he locks it. You’d been hoping he’d invite you to shower with him, but apparently he was serious about being exhausted.

You start to go through your own things, getting yourself ready. Jet lag had caused you both to sleep well into the afternoon, and it wouldn’t be long before the ride to the venue was here. As long as you try to avoid it, eventually you need to use the bathroom sink, tapping nervously at the locked door.

“Are you knocking?” Van’s voice echoes from the shower.

“Yeah!” You yell against the heavy wooden door. “I need to use the sink!”

There’s the wet slap of footsteps before the knob rattles and the door opens.

Van’s already disappeared behind the curtain by the time you’re in the bathroom. You focus on getting ready through the steam that’s forming on the glass. In perfect timing, once you’re about to complain that it’s too hard to see the spray cuts off, Van stepping out.

He’s dripping water all over the floor, his skin pink from the heat. He doesn’t have a towel immediately in reach, causing him to meander around looking for one, leaving the room for a moment. The steam escapes through the door, helping to clear the mirror.

When he comes back in he’s got one towel wrapped around his waist, another slung over his shoulders, and a hairbrush in hand. When he turns to brush his hair you can tell that he’s soft now.

You suppress a smile at what that implies.

The whole route to the venue you’re engrossed in the familiar sights. The landmarks, the major streets, a restaurant here or there that you’d eaten at after concerts at the very venue you were headed to.

Saint Andrew’s hasn’t changed much, although you can tell there’s been some renovations. The walkthrough with the band feels like deja vu, your body familiar with the layout of the building even though you haven’t been there since high school. Bondy asks where a restroom is, and before one of the staff can answer you point him towards the door without thinking about it. Only once you’re actually backstage, where your brain doesn’t have any material to push memories to the forefront of your mind, do you feel more normal.

You’re good about staying away from the public areas until soundcheck, which you don’t intend to miss. Watching everyone perform as friends rather than professionals in such a laid-back atmosphere has become one of your favorite perks of being a guest. You’re comfortable enough to stray from the wings this time around, instead choosing to venture on stage with the boys. You sit down in the corner, your legs dangling off of the edge, as out of the way and as far from the amps as you can get.

“Eh, didn’t sound right to me,” Bondy jokes after they’ve checked Sidetrack. “Felt a bit flat.”

“Aw, fuck you,” Van tells him, his footsteps vibrating the stage as he makes it back to his microphone. “Focus on yourself. Pretty sure I heard you play the chorus wrong.”

“That was you, actually.”

They do this all rehearsal, all of them poking at each other with no real malice. But you can tell the boys are having an extra dose of fun today with you around.

“Did that sound right to you, Y/N?” Bondy asks. “Maybe it’s just me, I dunno.”

“Yeah, let’s ask Y/N, our true impartial listener,” Van says into the microphone. It reverberates around the empty hall.

“Stop asking me!” You whine, looking over at them. “Everyone sounds great. Grow up.”

Everyone seems to find your irritation funnier than picking on Van.

“What about the drums?” Bondy continues. “I think Bob missed a beat there.”

You shake your head, not justifying him with a reply. Everyone snickers.

They go through their next song in fits and starts as adjustments are made, and your mind drifts away as they talk quietly amongst themselves. You gaze at the polished wooden floor the audience will be standing on later tonight, and your eyes travel up to the high, detailed ceilings of the room. It’s impossible not to remember all the times you’ve been under this ceiling, standing atop this exact floor, watching a band perform on this very stage with your then-boyfriend. You were always here with him because these had been his favorite bands, his group of friends that you two met up with. Looking around the room now feels like being somewhere haunted, like if you close your eyes you can see your life exactly the way it used to be. The way it was when you thought you were content where you were, when you felt your whole future was laid out in front of you and you didn’t have a problem following that path. When you didn’t know what else was out there for you.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by Van plopping down next to you, chugging a waterbottle. You realize they’ve finished soundcheck, everyone starting to quietly disperse.

“You okay?” He asks, gazing out into the space with you.

“Yeah,” You say, distracted.

“We’re only teasing, you know that, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” You brush his concern off. “I know that.”

“You seem upset.”

You shake your head. “I’m not upset. It feels weird being here.”

“Wanna smoke?”

You nod, hopping up to go follow him outside.

Once you’re out of the back door, greeted by a stifling wave of heat and humidity, Van meanders away from the venue. You follow along, looking at what’s changed on the block since the last time you’ve been. The building directly next to the hall is clearly abandoned now, and there’s a lone tree growing in a patch of grass in the narrow strip between that building and the store next to it. Van gravitates toward it, and you’re happy to be in the shade.

“What used to be here?” Van asks, nodding towards the abandoned lot. It’s evident that concert goers seem to know about this little space, considering there’s graffiti etched into the bricks. People’s names, random dates, mysterious phone numbers. There’s some actual tags spraypainted in various spots on the wall, but you’re more interested in the smaller messages.

“A bar. It was cool. Right after the concert everyone would go directly here. I wonder why they closed down. No doubt they made a ton of money.”

“You went?”

“Eh, occasionally. They’d be so packed right after a show you could weasel your way past the person checking IDs sometimes.” Your brain provides you with more memories of your past from the seemingly endless supply it has today.

“Why’d you break up with your last ex?” You blurt out. It’s so nosey and off topic you immediately want to kick yourself, but Van is unfazed, finishing his hit of his cigarette.

“I thought you hated talking about exes,” He points out.

“I do. Guess I’m just feeling really… reflective today.”

Once you were outside Van had slipped on the pair of sunglasses he’s kept dangling from the collar of his button up, so his expression is unreadable. His lenses just reflect you smoking back at yourself, so you look away.

“We were a bad match,” He says. “Always at each other’s throats. I didn’t see as much of a problem with it as the boys did. She did not like them and they did not fucking like her. They had to talk some real sense into me. But I’m glad they did.”

“Why were you with her? If she didn’t get along with anyone?”

“You know, this is gonna sound like such bullshit, but I really think I just forgot what love felt like. When you’re younger, and going to school and what have you, you know who you’re into, you know? Does that makes sense? If you’re in a class with thirty people, it’s easy to pick out who you’ve got a thing for.”

You nod, following along.

“So I met my first love in school. The thing is, though, nothing feels like your first love. Right? So when that’s said and done, you’re trying to find that feeling again, but it’s never the same, whatever. So for a while I would date girls and we would either be intensely in love or have no spark whatsoever. But then you’re an adult, and you’re working, and I’m not in one place very long. If I meet someone I like they’re not someone I see regularly because I’m always doing band stuff. So before you know it you’ve been single forever. Then it’s kinda… alright, our connection isn’t crazy, but it works. I started settling, I guess.”

You nod enthusiastically, his dating history resonating with your own.

“Anyway, when I met her, we had a lot of passion. So to me, I’m like, fuck, okay, I’m in love again. And when we got along, things were-” He gestures smoothly with his hand. “But we never got along. I swear we actually fucking hated each other most of the time. But at least I was feeling something for someone, so I figured we could work things out. Um, but we didn’t. And the fighting was unbearable. Interrupting rehearsals, nights out. We were always leaving early and always screaming in front of people. Bondy and Bob and Benji just got sick of it. Told me to cut it out. So, eventually I did.”

“That was pretty deep,” You remark, and Van laughs. “When’d you break up?”

“Right before Christmas,” Van tells you. “She absolutely freaked. But I got home and my mum and dad were so fucking relieved she wasn’t with me. That’s when I knew everyone had been right.”

“She met your parents?”

“They actually came to see us at a show while she was with me. She was starting shit with me all day, holy shit. They met her that one time and then avoided anything having to do with her like the plague.”

“That sounds genuinely awful.”

Van shrugs. “It is what it is. Learned a valuable lesson. Got some good songs out of it.”

You suppose relationships gone bad do probably hurt less when you make your living off of them.

“Let’s hear yours.”

“My last ex?” You ask, and Van nods.

“Eh. He was cheating on me.”

Van winces. “That’s shit.”

You shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal, honestly. I know that sounds crazy. I didn’t have any real spark with him, I didn’t really care. What I hated the most was how he thought he was so fucking clever and I knew the entire time.”

Van snorts. “How’d you figure it out?”

“Ugh,” You roll your eyes, “It was so easy! He was so stupid! First, when we became official his profile was still up on Tinder. Mine was still up too, okay, whatever-” You hold your hands up in joking guilt, “-But I would catch him actually on the app. And he had previews turned on for his notifications! I would literally catch girls texting him!”

Van chuckles along at your animated storytelling.

“And that’s it, really. I let it go on for a little bit because I was lonely at the time, but then it wasn’t funny anymore and it was over.”

“And when was this?”

“Psh. Long, long time ago. A year ago, at least. Year and a half, maybe.”

Both of your cigarettes are long burnt out. You add them to the collection of the other butts lying in the dirt around the tree.

“Have you ever cheated?” You decide to ask Van. Maybe if he has, you can convince yourself not to be in love with him. You’d have a sensible reason why it’d never work.

“Christ. I have, don’t judge me.”

At his words you perk up, eager to find a flaw.

“I was fifteen,” Van groans when he sees how intently you’re watching him. “It was nothing. I was technically dating a girl in my maths class but I kissed another girl under the bleachers after football practice.”

You laugh so hard your stomach hurts because of course, of course that’s Van McCann’s story of cheating. He tries to keep a straight face, looking rather remorseful, but eventually he cracks too, laughing along.

When you’re here with Van, sweating to death and laughing about innocent heartbreak, you forget all about the ghosts that follow you around this place. It occurs to you then that what’s most important is now. It’s nice to know about Van’s crazy ex, but it’s even nicer that he’s here with you instead of arguing with her. And it’s nice to remember times when you were younger, when things were simpler, but you realize that during your friendship with Van you’re probably happier than you ever were in the past. And it’s wishful thinking, but you can’t help but hope that maybe he feels the same way.

“So, do you actually ever use the bus?” You call to Van in the bathroom. He’s got the door open, fresh out of his post-show shower. You’re kicked back on the bed, texting about the show with Mary.

“Uh, we do,” Van laughs like it was a stupid question. “We’re practically on it twenty-four seven. We’d usually be on it tonight heading to the next place.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I asked to stay the extra night because I was meeting up with you.”

At this your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? We can’t get driving to the next place when you need to be at the airport in the morning. I said I had a friend coming in and could we stay an extra night because she has to fly. And they said that was fine with the schedule.”

You immediately shoot a text to Mary relaying your conversation. Just found out Van asked to adjust the schedule for me???

Mary’s reply pings back immediately: EXPLAIN?!?!

You’re typing a summary of what Van’s just said when you hear him speak from the bathroom. You don’t catch what he said.

“I can’t hear you!” You call to him.

“I said,” Van appears in the doorway, shirtless with a pair of sweats slung low on his hips. “Have you ever seen a tour bus?”

“No. Aren’t they like an RV?”

“A what?”

“An RV?”

“What the fuck is an RV?”

You look up at him in exasperation. “You know-” You gesture with your hands, “Giant things, you drive them, you take them camping. They have a kitchen and a bed and stuff? Like a house on wheels?”

Van cocks his head. “A motorhome?”

“Yes! A motorhome, sure.”

“Right. No, they’re nothing like that.”

“Okay, then I have no clue what they’re like.”

Van speaks again while he’s tugging on his t-shirt, successfully muffling his words. Yet when he pops his head through the collar, he’s looking at you for a response.

“I did not hear a word you just said,” You tell him with raised eyebrows.

Van rolls his eyes. “I said, do you wanna see ours?”

You do, but you hesitate. “Are we going to be bugging anyone?”

“Nah. Everyone’s in rooms tonight.”

“Then yeah, I do wanna see.”

Van stuffs his feet into a pair of slippers. “Then c’mon, get some shoes on.”

You hadn’t realized he’d meant right this second, but you get up from the bed, tucking your phone in your pocket and slipping on the flip-flops you’d brought for the shower. He pockets one of the room keys as you follow him out of the suite and down to the parking lot.

There’s nobody around considering the late hour of the night.

“Do you have a key?” You ask curiously when Van approaches the bus empty handed.

“No. You use a code.” He hits a combination of numbers on a small keypad, and with a beep he’s able to slide the door aside, letting you head up the stairs before him.

It looks like a regular coach bus when you look around, like the ones schools rent for long field trips. There’s two pairs of leather seats that face each other, and a small table dividing them.

Van appears behind you, stepping around so that he can lead the tour.

You couldn’t see it from where you were standing, but once you follow Van you see a narrow countertop nestled on one side. There’s a minifridge, a coffee pot, and a microwave nearby in the small space, and a small restaurant-booth seat where you presume people eat.

“Here’s the little kitchen,” Van says, gesturing to the countertop and booth.

Although it’s clear that the space is lived in, given the various foods lined up on the surfaces, there’s no trash or mess to be seen. “It’s really clean.”

Van snorts. “We’re slobs. It’s all thanks to the team.”

“They clean up after you?”

“They take care of the trash. Throw out the old food, get us some new stuff, that kind of thing.”

Van clicks open a door, showing you the inside of a new room. “Bathroom,” He explains, and you peek your head in, surprised to see a sink. You didn’t really consider there was running water in these things.

You’re almost at the end of the bus, and you haven’t seen any bunks. “So, do you, like, recline those seats to sleep? Like a plane?”

Van glances over his shoulder at you. “No. The bunks are upstairs.”

“How do you-” You start to ask, but before you can finish your sentence Van has started climbing up to the second level using a staircase in the corner.

You struggle to keep up with him, amazed as you climb up the steps to a whole new area. Lined against the walls are the actual bunks.

This area hasn’t been cleaned, considering each mattress is piled with rumpled bedding and various belongings. Some bunks were clearly being used as storage instead of a place to sleep, suitcases resting on them instead of blankets.

Van leads you to one of the top beds on the left side. It’s been messily made.

Van pats the colorful quilt resting on top of his sheets. “Here’s mine.”

“It’s made,” You remark, also reaching out to feel his blanket. “This quilt is really nice.”

“I try to at least throw it together in the morning.” He shrugs. “And my mum made me this, actually.”

“What?” You lean in closer to try and examine his quilt. Van messes with something before a light in the bunk comes on, illuminating the small space. “This looks amazing! Like it’s from a store.”

“Yeah. She’s handy with a sewing machine. She made it for me when I was leaving for New York. Now it’s my official touring blanket.”

His story makes your heart swell. You’re quiet as you continue to admire Mary’s work.

“Wanna hop in?” Van interrupts your thoughts.

It takes some maneuvering, but you managed to wriggle your body onto Van’s mattress. It’s about the same size as a twin bed, but the walls on three sides of you mean there’s no luxury of sprawling out.

“How do you fit in here?” You ask him. When you stretch out all the way, your toes bump the opposite end of the bed. You can’t imagine Van fits in here comfortably considering how tall he is.

“Eh, bend your knees a little. I’m used to it.”

You were already short on space, but things start to feel a bit claustrophobic when Van hops into bed with you. You’re stuffed between him and the wall.

“This is a squeeze,” You point out. Van’s pressed so close to you that when he exhales you can smell the toothpaste on his breath.

“You’re telling me.” You can feel his voice rumble through his chest.

There’s a moment of quiet when a thought suddenly pops into your head. “Oh my God, have you ever had sex in here?”

Van exhales a quiet laugh, and you feel his fingertips fussing with the hem of your shirt. “What, hoping to be the first?”

It’s hard to keep your train of thought straight when you feel his fingertips brush over your hipbone. “I’m only asking!” You manage to say.

“Ha. Yes I’ve had sex on a bunk,” He admits. “But, like, a long time ago. This might surprise you, but it’s not the most comfortable experience.”

In retaliation for his sarcasm you slip your own fingers underneath his shirt, pinching his side.

“Oi!” Van cries out in surprise. The space is so small that it sounds like he just shouted at full volume. You cringe.

“Don’t be so fucking loud,” You complain, pinching him again for good measure. “Right in my ear!”

“Well don’t pinch me!” Van scoffs.

“Fine, I won’t,” You hiss before tickling him.

“Cut it out,” Van pleads, twitching helplessly under your fingers. Before you know it he’s pushed your shirt up, tickling you roughly in retaliation.

One second you’re both squirming around, commanding each other to stop, and the next second Van’s lips are on yours. You freeze in surprise.

When he catches you by surprise he kisses you harder, his body shifting so that he’s hovering over you. When your brain catches up you relent on your attack, your arms wrapping around his shoulders instead.

“What are you doing?” You ask when he pulls back.

He grins. “Getting you to stop.”

He’s got a satisfied smirk like he’s won. If only he knew that losing felt like winning first prize to you.

“Well you better keep going,” You taunt him, teasingly tickling at the back of his neck. “Or else.”

You feel his smile as he kisses you again, pressing your lips open with his own so he can deepen it.

When it’s your turn to smile through the kiss he slowly pulls away, eyebrows raised. “What?”

You don’t answer him for a second, happily taking in the features of his face. You move one of your hands away from his shoulder to cup his jaw, running your thumb along the prominent line of it. His morning shave means his skin is silky smooth, no scratch of stubble against your skin. He’s still waiting for a response.

“I missed you,” You tell him. It’s the closest words to ‘I love you’ that you two exchange. “I missed you, like, a lot.”

Van grins, his body shifting so his face is inches away from yours. The feeling of his stomach rubbing against yours, even through your layers of clothes, sends a spark up your spine.

“Miss me?” He chuckles quietly. “I’m right here.”

“Now,” You argue, running your fingers through his hair. It’s still wet from the shower, making your knuckles damp.

Van laughs, kissing you again. This one is lacking heat, just a sweet, quick press of his mouth to yours. “Aw. I missed you too.”

“I’m right here,” You mock him, playfully poking one of the darker freckles on his cheek.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Van teases, leaning forward for another kiss. “And if you don’t mind, I’m prepared to take full advantage of that fact.”

You hate to crack the mood, but at his line you let out a laugh that’s too loud considering your proximity. “Oh, that was smooth, that was smooth,” You praise him, ruffling his hair.

Van looks proud of himself, lowering his chin to your chest and beaming up at you.

“But yeah,” You tell him, sliding your hands over his back, “It’d be a shame if you didn’t.”

With your approval Van starts to heave himself out of the bunk, a tangle of limbs too long to be confined into this space.

“Are we going back to the room?” You ask as Van helps you down.

“No. Somewhere where there’s more space.”

His fingertips are cold as he loosely tangles them with yours, gently tugging you away from the bunks, in the opposite direction of the staircase. It’s not quite hand-holding, but it’s close enough to stun you, gazing down at your entwined hands as Van leads you the short distance to a door. He releases you so that he can swing it open, and by now you’re used to being ushered in first.

He’s led you to a tiny room that only contains a couch, a television in the wall, and a PlayStation surrounded in a tangle of wires on the floor.

“Of course,” Van sighs under his breath as you two take in the couch. It’s covered in clutter, mostly dirty clothes and the PlayStation remotes. Within the blink of an eye he’s crossed the room, starting to toss whatever clothes have been abandoned here onto the floor. You help too, taking care of the remotes, beer bottles, and cigarette boxes. The end result is a clean couch and a messy floor.

“Yeah,” You say to nobody in particular as you relax into the couch, which is long enough to stretch out on. “There’s a lot more space.”

Van tugs his t-shirt off, tossing it onto the floor with the mess. You follow suit.

Only once your shirt is off do you notice the lighting. The small lamp in the bunk had been cozy, but this room is shrouded in the sort of lighting public bathrooms had; it was fluorescent yet dim, casting a yellow glow, and doing everything in its power to illuminate any flaws. Immediately after looking down at your exposed body you wish you could pull your shirt back on.

“I hate these lights,” You declare to Van.

“Hold on,” Van grunts, wriggling around as he searches for something. “We’ve got something better.”

After some commotion the wall the couch is pressed against is suddenly illuminated with a soft glow. It looks as if there’s lighting installed into the back of the couch, but when Van crosses the room and flicks the lightswitch off you realize that the boys have a string of fairy lights resting against the edge of the seats. The atmosphere of the room is suddenly much more welcoming.

You hadn’t realized your shoulders were tense until you feel them sag in relief. At the sight of Van approaching the couch again, however, you tense up again.

“Condom?” You check, terrified of an Arizona repeat.

“Right, right,” Van clicks his tongue, heading for the door again. “I’ll be right back.”

With nobody else on the bus, you can clearly hear the shuffle of Van looking around. Thankfully he returns with a foil packet in hand, locking the door behind him.

When he sits down on the couch, he holds the packet close to the string of fairy lights, squinting at it.

“What?” You ask as Van struggles to read the text on it. You notice it’s an orange color, not the blue of Van’s usual trojans.

“It’s ribbed. Will that work?”

“Sure,” You nod. Truthfully, you’ve never tried them, but you will tonight if it means getting the show on the road. “Whose is that?”

“Bondy’s.” Van sets the condom aside on the floor, proceeding to strip away his sweatpants. “I’ll have to remember I owe him one.”

He says this so casually, as if they borrow condoms from each other regularly. You shake your head at how odd men are as you finish stripping your clothes away.

Once the clothes are off and you two gravitate into the same position you were in on the bunk, the mood starts to come back. It hadn’t gone far, considering Van was still hard. He busies himself with your foreplay, his fingertips gingerly searching for a good spot against your clit.

“There,” You say quickly, when he’s gotten it right. But he’s already moved, the sensation lost.

“Where?” Van tries to move back into his previous place. He’s almost got it right, but it’s slightly off. “Here?”

You reach down between your legs, Van’s fingers going pliant as he allows you to readjust him. “There.”

He adds pressure, moving in his usual wide circle. Your nerves light up with it, your hips twitching up instinctually. He knows he’s gotten it right by your reaction.

In reward you reach down to work on him. The back of your hand brushes his dick. It’s swollen and radiating heat, and a smear of precome brushes over your skin. Van practically jumps out of his skin. You don’t want to bring him any closer to the edge than he already is, so you decide to slide your hand lower instead, gently cupping his balls.

“Shit,” Van hisses, flinching.

You freeze. “Do you hate it?”

“No, no,” He breathes, and you feel him relax.

“How do you like it?”

Van shakes his head. “Never had it. Go easy on ‘em.”

You don’t have the mental space to process what he’s said, too consumed by the way he’s touching you. With his request you keep your touch gentle. You’re both hypnotized, the foreplay going on for longer than usual, and you’re almost tempted to call off the sex and come only from his fingers. You can tell he’s becoming more familiar with your body, his hand keeping the right rhythm as he kisses the spot on your neck that always makes you moan. But he’s not the only one that’s been studying, and instead of your usual breathy moan you let his name slip just to rile him up more.

That seems to snap him out of his daze, and with a playful nip to that spot on your neck he pulls away, stretching down to grab for the condom. You let your hand fall away from his balls, rubbing his inner thigh instead while he slides his foreskin back and gets the condom over himself.

“Any special requests?” He asks as his way of checking in, and you feel the gentle pressure of him nestling into position.

“Yeah,” You reply as you shuffle to make sure your hips are at the right angle. “You better not pretend I’m the girlfriend you fucked in the bunk once.”

Van gives a loud scoff, his eyebrows furrowing. He looks down at you like you’ve just grown a second head.

“Are you kidding?” He asks, cocking his head. “Have you looked at yourself? Why would I fucking want to?”

It had mostly been a joke, but there was always a small part of you that wondered if Van used your arrangement to relive past experiences. It always hurt to consider, especially since he was the clear winner out of everyone you’d ever physically been with. At his sincerity you gulp, giving a small nod.

He shakes his head at you in exasperation. “Christ, Y/N. You know, I’ve never met anyone like you.”

You eye him wearily. “Okay, that sounds like an insult, but to be fair, I’ve never met anyone like you, either!”

Van chuckles as he starts his first slow thrust inside of you, effectively shutting you up. “Deffo not an insult.”

Something about his response makes you unexpectedly emotional. You chalk it up to a heady mix of love hormones and the relaxation that sweeps over you at your anxieties being assuaged. It was in the way he responded enthusiastically, rather than brushing you off. As you two get started it still takes you a minute to shake off the memory of his face peering down at you like you were absolutely insane for even insinuating such a thing. Even then, his words linger.

You know, I’ve never met anyone like you.

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #van mccann #van mccann fic #van mccann fanfiction #vanfic #catb fic #please enjoy me waxing poetic about saint andrew's hall

21 notes · View notes

sneyrwrites · 4 years ago

Text

|Power Within|Kuroo x Reader.

✘ Genre: Fantasy! Au

✘ Warnings: Cursing

✘ Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader.

✘ Part: 0.5/ ?

✘ A/n: My heavily sleeped deprived brain came u with this concept and i had the urge to write it, so i hope you enjoy!

WARNING:

This story is under construction, and it will take some time for it to be ready for release. I’m posting the prologue to have some pressure to finish it and hoping to get any kind of feedback from the readers!

Kuroo knew the sound of the shuffling cards brought Kenma a sense of comfort. His friend smiled a little more and his pupils sharpened every time the stack separated into three neat piles in between them.

These monthly readings had become a sort of ritual between the both of them since Kuroo had become a Coven leader after Nekomata retired three years ago. They were reassuring to Kuroo and it gave him a way to fit spending time with his friend into his crazy schedule as the coven leader.. Meetings, reunions, diplomatic issues with the other three races and the constant need for budgets the Potion makers demanded being approved. Kuroo didn’t have time to practice his magic like he used to before.

But the full monday a month he could give to his friend was enough to help ease a little of his stress.

Kenma had a way with Tarot cards, Kuroo was glad that he was able to find his magical affinity.As a late bloomer it took Kenma a long time to feel comfortable around the coven, no matter how much Kuroo tried to break into his shell. He remained the same introverted boy, until he stumbled upon divination and all its varieties when they turned 18.

Kuroo had found his tendency towards potions and specifically healing potions when he was around fourteen, and he knew Kenma was silently in pain because of that, but he did all he could to integrate him into the coven. The long wait was worth it in the end. Kenma was the best cartomancer in the Coven, with his reading being able to predict things precisely, and his ability to interpret the magical energy from the cards allowed him to perceive specific details and images.

The orange curtains partially blocked the sunlight coming in through the windows, tinting everything in sunset colours even though it was the early morning. They were the only two members of the Coven wandering around in the main building during those cold autumn days. The smell of myrrh and a hint of vanilla in the air not coming from the incense, but from Kenma’s magic, gave the room a placid atmosphere.

Kuroo smiled as the cards re-stacked themselves and then started to spread in the characteristic way they always did, prompted only by Kenma’s will, not even needing him to cast a spell.

Three cards laid out in front of them facing down, and everything felt normal. Kenma flipped the first two revealing the emperor and the cart, both signifying a successful month ahead of them. Kuroo knew a little of tarot himself, just enough to get a general sense, but the practice never called him, potion making snatching his full attention.

Kenma’s hand reached for the third card but stopped right above it, not even touching it. A furrow settled in his brows and his pupils sharpened, to the point where they were barely noticeable. The air in the room went stagnant, and the magical energy tingled Kuroo’s skin. Something changed.

“What the f…?” The quiet murmur of confusion coming from Kenma only fueled his unease. “That’s weird… Who…?” His frown deepened.

“What is it?” The urgency in his voice was almost tangible and by the pointed look Kenma sent his way, totally unhelpful. “The reading was going well right?”

“Yeah.” Kenma hesitated, a small flash of fear behind his eyes. His still stretched out hand trembled. “But som…” He couldn’t finish

The stack that was calmly next to him flew up in the air, followed by the other three remaining cards. A spicy smell overpowered Kenma’s, alerting us that another magical presence had entered the room, manipulating the deck in a way that was unheard of.

Kuroo could only watch as the cards wildy flew around the room re-arranging and mixing. Kenma looked shocked, as his eyes tried to follow every single change. The thought that Kenma wasn’t the one manipulating them made a cold and heavy feeling, like an iceberg drop in his stomach.

Was it a Hex? Was someone trying to break the spell protecting the coven’s building? No, if that was the case the alarms would go off. Either way he was going to call Wakatoshi and ask him to check and reinforce it

After what felt like a lifetime the cards finally stacked themselves up in the middle of the table, settling the room in a tense and heavy silence both of them were afraid to break. His heart was beating erratically and a cold sweat beaded on his forehead. What was even going on? He took a look at the clock on the wall, it read 5:40 am. Not even ten minutes had passed since they started.

Kenma reached for the stack but, as soon as he hovered his hand above them, he pulled it away, as if the Tarot Cards had burned his skin. Kuroo watched in disbelief as his friend rubbed the palm of his hand, a hurt expression morphing his face. Now he was really worried. The cards never had done that to him before, normally it was the opposite, the cards welcomed Kenma and almost buzzed when he manipulated them.

“They want you to flip them…” Disbelief tinted his words, and he looked so frail and dejected it almost pained Kuroo. “I can’t touch them.”

“Is it okay if i…?” Kuroo was apprehensive about touching Kenma’s deck. It was his most prized possession, and he cared for them with his life. Touching them made Kuroo feel all kinds of dirty and unworthy.

“Go ahead… Something bad is going on.” The resolve in Kenma’s voice appeared out of nowhere.

The cards didn’t lash out at him when his fingers brushed the smooth surface of the card on top. He flipped the first and suppressed a gasp.

The burning tower and the man falling to the ground made Kuroo sweat even more. The falling tower was never a good sign in a future reading.

Kenma sharply inhaled as he observed the deck. Kuroo willed his hand to stop shaking and he flipped the second card over. The devil card delivered even more bad news. He knew the basic meaning, but by the way Kenma hissed and brought his hand to his forehead it meant something more.

“Are you okay? Too overwhelming?” Kuroo got up, and was about to make his way to Kenma's side but he stopped him with a sign of his hand, recomposing quickly after a moment.

“I'm fine, the energy got a little hectic back there and bombarded me with blurry images... Flip the third one.” Kuroo flopped down at the command of his friend, watching him intently.

He had never seen Kenma as unnerved as he was in that moment. His lip was tightly imprisoned between his teeth and Kuroo worried he might draw blood if he kept pressing it so tightly. But there was nothing to do besides go with it. A fist was clamping his hear, filling himt with fear for whatever the next card would predict. Anticipation was thick in the air and after a sharp intake of air, he willed his hand to grab the third and final card of the reading.

The blasting ringtone from his phone made him jolt in his seat, the somber mood completely broken by the upbeat tone of “Everybody wants to be a cat” from The Aristocats. His heart had risen to his throat, and he felt the rapid pulse in his neck, slightly deafening him, overpowering the ringtone. He exchanged a doubtful glance with Kenma, afraid whatever the cards predicted had started already.

Tendou’s face popped in the screen, and he worried even more. The Seer was his friend, but such an early call was out of character from him.

“It's the Seer... I wonder what he wants. He usually sleeps until 2pm....” His eyes searched Kenma’s once more and with the nod from his friend he unlocked his phone and took the call.

“Hello Hello, Kuroo-san…” Tendou’s cheery voice erupted from the speaker and he cringed at the tone. “ I see Kenma and you are in the middle of a reading. Get it? See... I'm the Seer, never mind...” He cleared his throat and his mischievous tone disappeared in the next sentence. “ Cleanse the room after you finish, Gaia visited me and that’s never a good sign.” That little sentence felt as if an anvil had fallen on him. The knot in his throat grew.

Now of all times, when he was in charge of 700+ people, Gaia decided to present herself to Tendo and warn him.? Shit was about to hit the fan.

“Flip the next card Kuroo.” He followed the instructions and the Sun card appeared. “Huh... Maybe Gaia was wrong...” The confused tone came from the phone… “

“Should you be disrespecting the goddess like that Tendou-san?” Kenma’s eyes were lost, almost as if he was observing something that wasn’t there as he spoke

“Oh, Kenma-kun, you worry too much.” He stopped for a second “But still, both of you, be careful, and please, try not to lash out too much on her Kuroo… Or else things could get really ugly really fast.” He warned.

“What do you mean Tendou?” Kuroo asked, worry once more tainting his voice “Who?”

“Gaia, I’m sleepy. Gotta go guys, let’s play later Kenma! I’ll be jungler this time, bye bye!” The dialing tone silenced any further questions they could have.

Kuroo stared at his screen in shock.

“It's too early for this shit.” Kenma's sigh grabbed his attention. “ I need a coffee... Let's go to Starpups...” He proposed with a disinterested tone.

“Are you really thinking about coffee in a moment like this? Are you kidding Kenma?” Kuroo felt like throwing up from the emotional rollercoaster he just went through, and his friend wanted to get a coffee?

“What else can we do really? The only thing I got from that reading was the smell of spicy ramen and a flash of red. I can’t really think of anything right now.” Kenma's eyes held some doubt behind them, but Kuroo let it go. “Grab your talisman and let's go.”

“Why my talisman?” he never used it when going out for coffee

“Just do it, trust my gut...” Kenma sent him a pleading look, his eyes letting him know there was a solid reason behind his concern.

Kenma turned around and practically bolted out of the room. Sighing, Kuroo gave the cards on the table a dirty look and lit the incense on fire, hoping to cleanse some of the residual energy in the room, before leaving as well.

He felt as if some of that spicy magical energy lingered on his skin, even after he closed the door behind him

CHAPTER 1 SNEEK PEAK

“Listen you f…” His startled gasp cut your colorful string of curses. Following his eyes you noticed the thick black cloud of smoke. That was coming from your sleeve, which was on flames. “What the fuck dude! Put it out!” You desperately tried to put the flames off, but they wouldn’t budge.

A startled cry left your lips when the flames grew and almost lashed out to the man, as if they had a mind of their own. He barely dodged the hit, the tip of his tie getting a little singed.

“It wasn’t me I swear! I’m not an elementari I’m just a cartomancer!” He looked almost as freaked out as you after that. “ Why did you start a fire!? Is there a counter hexer in here!?”

“Yeah, like it’s my favorite activity to set myself on fire!” You whined, waving your arm around as the flames crept up.

“She seems fine...” a soft and monotone voice stated, and a guy poke his head from behind the tall man. His blond dyed hair showing quite a large amount of dark roots and styled in a half bun. His eyes were also sharp and attentive sporting the same style of pupils and irises. They seemed to pierce your very soul

The tall and worried man in front of you scanned your face, and you took a second to study his features. His jaw was sharp and his nose straight, with high cheekbones and cute lips.

He was hot, and his messy hair with black locks spiking up in odd places and partially falling over his forehead was way too wild to be just a consequence of the merciless wind that picked up that autumn morning. And it did wonders to make him look even more appealing.

#Kuroo x reader #haikyuucreations #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #Kuroo Tetsurō #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfic #kuroo fanfic #Power within Kuroo #tetsurou kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fantasy au

35 notes · View notes

bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

Text

“Talk Over Tea” || YEAR 3 – Ch.27 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 10/13/2020

Word count: 3, 283

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

-----

A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

Sorry about the late upload, my internet is practically nonexistent right now DX

-----

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

“WHAT happened?”

Ron grinned at Heather as she sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. “I’ll tell it again. Gladly.” He stood up again and everyone around him leaned closer to hear his version of events one more time. “I was sleeping in bed when a weird noise woke me up. I sat up and then – SLICE – Sirius Black had split my curtains in two with a MASSIVE knife. There he was screaming over me yelling AAAAAAAAARGH – ” Ron towered over them like a scary bear with his claws out, “and seeing as I was awake and screaming too, he ran off.”

Everyone gasped and started whispering about how brave Ron was. Harry was looking uncomfortable, sitting beside Ron as he told the story over again to anyone who asked. Heather folded her arms. It was true what people were saying, about Sirus Black having broken in, gotten into the boy’s dormitories – INCHES from Harry – and had escaped again. But it didn’t make any sense.

“Ron! Tell it again for Sean!” A Hufflepuff came running down with his friend right behind him.

“Gladly.” Ron set down his fork over his cold eggs and stood up once more.

Heather rolled her eyes and pulled Harry up with her. They both walked down to where Hermione sat hardly touching her breakfast as she read, eyes darting left to right frantically.

“Hermione, what do you think of what happened last night?” Heather sat down in front of her. Harry drummed his fingers on the table and Heather pulled the book down to get her attention. “Hermione?”

She sighed. “What IS it? I’m studying! I have to read this by Monday and I have two hundred pages to read today!”

“Did you hear about what happened? To Ron?”

Hermione looked at Heather and glared towards Ron. “I heard. I’m glad he’s not hurt.”

“Same,” said Harry.

Heather nodded. “But it doesn’t make sense… Does it.”

“What doesn’t make sense? Sirius Black is a crazed maniac on the loose again. Everything he does is dangerous and insane, isn’t it?” Harry pulled a bowl closer and started scooping in some cinnamon porridge from a center pot. “Only I don’t see how he keeps getting past the dementors… Fudge was right about him being more dangerous than everyone thought and wrong about him seeming sane.”

“But that’s not what I’m getting at.” She pulled Hermione’s book back down to get her attention again. “He didn’t hurt anyone… And… Especially not you, Harry.”

They were all quiet as they thought over Heather’s words.

“Look,” Hermione pulled her book out of Heather’s hands. “I don’t know what Sirius Black was thinking, or why he didn’t just kill Ron and then Harry or whatever it is that mad man wants to do… That’s the business of Professor Dumbledore, the Ministry, and the dementors. That’s why Ron talked to them this morning and why they’re doubling down forces around here. What IS my business is finishing up this book and the essay that goes along with it so that I don’t have to drop this class.” Hermione propped her ‘Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles’ text book back up and flipped the page.

They sat in silence for the remainder of breakfast and ended up leaving Hermione and her unfinished porridge and dragged Ron off with them. They decided they were all still too shaken up about what had happened to Ron to do any homework and started walking around the castle where extra security was being put in.

They followed Mr. Filch around at a distance as he boarded up every crack in the stone walls, every mouse hole – to Mrs. Norris’ dismay – and almost every secret passage that the map showed; all but the one-eyed witch passage into Honeydukes. After being told off for snooping, they followed Professor Flitwick as he taught several of the large doors around the school to recognize a giant picture of Sirius Black.

Professor Flitwick liked the company and let them watch how he charmed two small but large-armed stone troll statues to guard the portrait of the fat lady. She had accepted guarding Gryffindor tower again after Sir Codegan had failed so horribly, demanding extra security measures be taken around her painting.

They sat in the corner of the courtyard looking over Harry’s firebolt, shining it with a clean rag, while Heather drew beside them on the ground. She was trying to get the right color of a small bird pecking at the grass growing between the stones when Harry spoke up, scaring it away.

“D’you think they really don’t know about the one-eyed witch statue? D’you reckon we should tell someone about it?”

Ron leaned in closer to the broom handle and breathed onto it, wiping away a smudge with the rag. “Nah. We’d’ve heard if Honeydukes had been broken into. Besides, no one but us knows about it. He doesn’t have the map.”

Heather was glad Harry was nodding, though she knew she should be the voice of reason right now. Of course they should tell Professor Dumbledore that the secret passage exists… but she’d just gotten to a very interesting part in the banned potions book and wanted to go into the apothecary in Hogsmeade to buy some ingredients for it. That and she wondered if the plant shop there had certain seeds she could grow in that charmed pot Hermione had got her. If the passage was sealed, then she wouldn’t be able to go into Hogsmeade until possibly next year… or whenever they finally caught Sirius Black.

A group of second year girls spotted Ron from across the courtyard and came running up to him, begging to hear the story from his lips. Ron blushed and began retelling it.

“Well… I was asleep and I heard a weird noise – a giant TEAR like a SLICE, and so I woke up realizing it wasn’t in my dream! I looked up and saw him… Sirius Black standing over me with his dirty long hair and a knife as long as my arm! He yelled – about to plunge the knife into my body – when I yelled and he SCAMPERED. Ran right out and escaped.”

The group of girls squealed and huddled together like a pack of scared sheep. They made their way back into the castle corridor, pleased to have heard it and waved goodbye at Ron with giggles.

“You know you tell it different every time?” Heather rolled her eyes and kept mixing more white into her dark blue water color.

“Well I don’t like remembering last night. I’m still scared about it. I almost died!” Ron let Harry take back his broom and crossed his arms. “Why though? Why’d he run off?”

“I’ve been thinking about that… About what you said, Heather.” Harry sat down next to her, followed by Ron. “Why did he run when he saw Ron and not just slice him up and then me and the others? Well I had my curtains pulled closed because of the moonlight that night, and so had Ron. So he had a half chance of getting it right and guessed. He saw it wasn’t me right away, got mad, and then Ron yelled. He must have gotten scared that Ron screamed and he knew people would be waking up, so he ran. I mean, it’d be harder to escape out the castle after everyone had been woken up – and running into the teachers and all that.”

They agreed with Harry on his take on what happened.

“Except… Ron didn’t you say Sirius Black screamed first?” She remembered a version of his story where he said Sirius Black had yelled angrily.

“I don’t remember much of how it all happened. I just try to tell it how I remember telling it to Professor Dumbledore.” Ron went a bit red but shook his head and went back to shining Harry’s broom with the servicing kit.

In the distance they saw Neville walking behind Professor McGonagall on their way to his detention. Apparently it had been Neville who had lost a slip of all of the secret passwords for the week, the very slip that Black used to get in. Whatever detention he’d been given was nothing to the one his grandmother was going to give him. The next morning he’d received a Howler and had seized it and ran with it out of the great hall at once.

It exploded out there and his grandmother’s voice could still be heard clear as crystal telling him about how he’d horribly dishonored his family and brought shame to them all. The Slytherin table was howling with laughter and Heather rolled her eyes at Draco who gave his best impression of Neville sprinting down the great hall with a howler cupped in his hands.

“Harry, you’ve got a letter too,” Ron pointed out.

Heather had just noticed Hedwig sitting patiently in front of them. “Oh, thank you Hedwig. Take my bacon.” Hedwig traded the letter for the bacon and flew back out the tall windows. “‘Dear Harry and Ron. How’s ‘bout seeing me this afternoon for tea ‘round six? Meet me by the castle doors. Wait for me inside the entrance hall. Inside by the doors. Not outside by the doors. Inside. Hagrid. Oh and Heather, come along too if you’d like. Cheers, Hagrid.’” She folded the letter back up. “What a strange invitation…”

Ron shrugged. “He wants to hear about Black from us. You weren’t there, Heather, which is why you were an afterthought. Don’t take it personally.”

The attention was getting to Ron’s head. Harry, however, took the note and pinched his lips closed, probably also noticing Hermione wasn’t invited. They both knew from previous Dursley experience – more precisely among Petunia and her group of wifely friends – what that meant.

Heather had finished her essays early and decided to meet Ron and Harry by the main stairs of the ground floor corridor and together they walked down to the entrance hall. Hagrid was already waiting for them.

“Hagrid! Want me to start telling the story? How Black almost attacked us but my scream drove him off?” Ron took the lead as they left the castle.

“I’ve ‘ready heard ‘bout that.” Hagrid didn’t look down at Ron and kept his eyes on his hut in the distance.

Ron fell behind and walked with Harry, crossing his arms. Harry looked at Heather and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

The air was cold but the grass was greener than it had been a month ago and the small buds that had been closed all winter long were now opening up wide. The lawn was looking shiny and glittery with dew drops and the flowers speckled the green with color. She remembered Professor Sprout saying how she didn’t care that the flowers were weeds, some weeds were pretty, even if Mr. Filch didn’t think so. Heather felt she was right. Flowers were flowers even if some called them weeds, and all flowers were pretty.

They entered Hagrid’s cabin and saw Buckbeak sleeping by the fire with a large plate of dead ferrets by his head. Fang was curled under one of the wings while the other was pulled tight around Buckbeak’s body for warmth. On Hagrid’s dresser door hung a large patchy, fur suit with a long orange and yellow tie draped over the shoulder.

Harry ran his hands down the matted fur and turned to Hagrid. “What’re these for?”

“Fer Buckbeak’s case. M’wearin’ that this Friday, tryin’ to look nice and what not. We’ll be goin’ down ter London on the Knight Bus together.” Hagrid motioned for Buckbeak.

Heather bit her lip. She’d completely forgotten they all promised to help Hagrid with his case. With Quidditch and the broom and the cat and matches and school, she hadn’t even thought of Buckbeak once. Harry pressed a hand to his mouth and Ron looked uneasy; they too had forgotten.

Hagrid offered them lumps of what looked like bread with berries baked inside and Heather accepted with the condition of warm tea to dunk it in. She knew it’d be hard as stone otherwise. They sat at the table and Heather dunked her berry bread in the tea when the moment had finally come

“Ron, Harry. Got somethin’ ter discuss with you two.” Hagrid looked at them both very seriously, which was uncharacteristic of him. He never looked too serious about anything, always preferring a lighthearted environment.

“Us two? But not with Heather?” Harry frowned.

“No. Not with Heather. YOU two. And yer behaviors these last several months.”

Heather crossed her arms and tried not to smile, covering her mouth with the tea cup instead as she sipped.

“About what?” Ron frowned as well.

“About Hermione and the way you two’ve been holdin’ grudges with her and even Heather.” Hagrid sighed. “Firs’ of all, Harry. She’s yer sister and when she fell of her broom yeh should’ve been there.”

She knew instantly that Hermione had been coming down to see Hagrid. Though she was even more confused now why Hermione had been telling her she didn’t have time to hang out. They could have both been coming down to see Hagrid and complaining about Ron and Harry together… Though maybe she came down during Heather’s practices? But she always said she was working on essays and studying arithmancy charts in the library during those times. Heather frowned into her tea. Hermione’s times weren’t adding up and haven’t been all year.

“And in case yeh also haven’t noticed. She’s been in a righ’ state ‘bout you two and a lot more. Comin’ down ter visit me fer a while now, talkin’ ‘bout feeling lonely. Firs’ you two weren’t talkin’ to both Hermione and Heather ‘bout the broom, an’ now yer not talkin’ to her because her cat – ”

“The one that ATE Scabbers!” Ron interrupted. “She won’t even apologize!”

“Well… And she’s been cryin’, yeh know. Things are seemin’ rough fer her at the moment. I think she’s bitten off more’n she can chew, all the work she’s doin’ – still found time ter help me with Buckbeak’s case even! She found some really good stuff fer Buckbeak… Could even stand a chance now I reckon…”

Harry looked at all the files and open books with marks and closed ones with little scraps sticking out in them. “We should’ve helped with that – Sorry, Hagrid – I – ”

“Oh, I’m not blamin’ yeh fer that. Merlin knows how busy yeh all are too, with Quidditch an’ school an’ classes. An’ Harry, you with far more than you should be dealin’ with.” Hagrid shook his head. “No, I ain’t blamin’ you fer that… Jus’ thought yeh two’d value yer friendship with Hermione more than brooms and rats… Jus’ not talkin’ to her is – ”

“Well she won’t apologize!” Ron insisted. “My pet is dead because she was careless and kept the door WIDE open for her cat to come in and eat him up – even though I TOLD her to be careful! If she just apologized and admitted her cat murdered Scabbers, then I’d talk to her again.”

“Well… some people can be downrigh’ foolish ‘bout their pets…” Hagrid tried to reason with Ron a bit more but it made no difference.

They spent the rest of their time with Hagrid talking about Buckbeak’s case. Hermione had done real thorough research and they agreed with Hagrid that Buckbeak did have a chance. At nine he walked them back to the castle and they waved goodbye to him.

“So are you going to talk to Hermione again then?”

Ron curled his fingers into a tight fist. “Maybe.”

“We should, I think.” Harry started up the stairs.

“Oh alright,” Ron gave up. He climbed the stairs higher and turned. “But on a trial bases.” He turned back and kept climbing out of sight.

Harry came back down and stood next to Heather. She hadn’t noticed until now that he was slightly taller than her. She looked at the top of his head and wondered how much was just hair. She didn’t want to be shorter, so maybe she should start stretching out her back with her exercises, or even just willing her body to grow more overnight. Anything.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t talking to you.” Harry crossed his arms. “Will you tell me next time you decide to tell on me?”

Heather smiled. “Yes. I’ll give you at least an hour’s warning so you can hide either yourself or whatever thing I’m having a teacher confiscate.”

Harry smiled and stuck out his hand. “Deal. But same goes for me…”

She took it and shook. “Fair.”

He looked into her eyes and hesitated for a second. “And no secrets?”

She looked around, confused by the question and why he was asking her that and quickly looked back into his eyes. She wanted to lie, open her mouth and say ‘deal’, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to tell him about going over to Draco’s house, and what she recently realized was the start of a friendship with him, so she just squeezed his hand tighter and shook it again, keeping her lips closed.

“Alright.” Harry let go and climbed the stairs. “Night!”

“Night,” she called after him.

She looked down at her hand and frowned. It wasn’t just Draco though… Was it? She had known about the map before him… She had broken into the library and not told him… She was keeping Professor Lupin being a werewolf to herself… She had Ministry banned books under her mattress and he knew nothing about that…

She started walking towards the dungeon stairs at the end of the corridor, keeping her eyes on her hand. What was the difference between a secret and just something personal? She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned a few corners to reach the entrance to the common room. She whispered the password and entered.

Her attention was drawn towards the group of students standing around the bulletin board. She walked over to Draco and sat next to him.

“Professor Snape’s just been in to pin up the next Hogsmeade trip.” He motioned behind him to the crowd without looking up from his book. “I’ll probably be going, most likely. That Sirius Black business might have made McGonagall forget about our detentions and I doubt Professor Snape will remind her. Especially since the Quidditch Cup is on the line.”

“Don’t remind me,” Heather groaned. “What’re you going to do about Harry? Has Marcus talked to you at all about it?” Draco was no match for Harry, even before the firebolt. Heather had worked hard to get him up to Harry’s flying level and the Nimbus two-thousand-and-one is a lot faster, making his jitters on it visible again. Of course she couldn’t mention any of that.

“No. He’s still upset about getting knocked back by Harry… What spell did he use anyways?”

Heather shrugged.

“Well you can tell Potter that I’ll hit him back with it harder.” Draco stood and placed the book back on the shelf next to the fireplace. “Maybe I’ll have Father send some books over.” He looked at her and smiled.

She rolled her eyes and headed into the girl’s dormitories for bed. She laid down and thought about Hogsmeade and about the books tucked under her mattress, about the potion and the recipe she had in mind. If by some miracle Harry decided not to go… then she wouldn’t either, and so it was up to ‘the Universe and Fate’ – as Professor Trelawney liked to say – if they stayed or went this weekend.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

<-- Last chapter Next chapter -->

-----

@lokilover-39

@halcyonrogers

@krazykatkay456

@lady-of-black-roses

@writingmi

-----

#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

21 notes · View notes

bellaireland1981 · 5 years ago

Text

Lights, Camera, Coffee in LA

Ok, this is my absolute first time posting a story I’ve written and I am anxious as hell about it lol. Please be kind!

Summary: Elena “Lena” is off to LA for the summer to visit her brother. Her summer gets off to a great start when she ends up sat next to none other than Chris Evans on the plane. (I suck at summaries!) Thank you SO much to @denisemarieangelina for reading and providing feedback, and a WAY better title than I’d managed to think of! You’re AMAZING!

Characters: Chris Evans x OFC Elena

Word count: 4921

Warnings: None... absolute fluff

“I’m boarding the plane now, Mikey,” I gasped, out of breath from running through the airport.

“Oversleep again, Lena?” He asked laughing on the other end.

“Actually, my Uber was late and then we hit traffic on the freeway, thank you very much!” I said, indignantly, making my way down the gangway and onto the plane.

“Ok, well safe flight, I’ll see you in a few hours.” he responded, “Love you, Sis!”

“Love you too, Mikey! Can’t wait to see you!” I was excited to see my big brother. He’d moved out to L.A. when I was 12 years old to pursue a career in acting. He’d made a name for himself on a soap opera, but had decided he preferred being behind the camera instead of in front of it.

I quickly located my seat and stowed my carry-on in the overhead compartment before dropping into the seat by the window. One perk of having Michael book my tickets was an upgrade to first class.

I had just finished another year teaching 2nd grade and was looking forward to spending time in California with my big brother. Due to budget cuts, we had ended up with overcrowded classrooms this past year (meaning I’d had a class of 30 second graders as opposed to the normal 20 I was used to!). Needless to say, I was exhausted and needed a break.

“Can I get you something to drink before we take off ma’am?” a flight attendant asked me, smiling.

“Do you have any tea?” I asked, smiling back at her, I hadn’t had time to stop for caffeine on my way to the airport and wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. “Or at this point, I’d drink week-old coffee resembling mud.”

“We can’t have you drinking mud, I’d be happy to get you some tea” She replied laughing, “Any milk, sugar, or honey?”

“Just plain, please!” I replied, “You’re seriously a life-saver!”

“All part of my job title!” She said before collecting the pre-flight drink orders from other passengers settling into their seats.

“A fellow caffeine addict, huh?” A smooth, deep voice sounded next to me. It appeared as though my seat neighbor had arrived.

“Not even ashamed to admit to that! “In all fairness though, it is before 8 in the morning, and a Monday no less.” I smiled up at the newcomer, and almost swallowed my tongue in the process.

Chris freaking Evans was standing less than a foot away, placing his bag in the overhead compartment. He had on a gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up, jeans, and a NASA hat pulled down to help disguise his identity. Pull it together Lena, do NOT fangirl on the poor guy!

“Both fair points!” He said taking his seat and turning slightly towards me. Even with the added room in first class, he was still insanely close to me. I could smell his cologne or aftershave, which didn’t help my already overloaded senses. “I’m Chris, by the way.”

“Elena” I replied, smiling, “Everyone just calls me Lena though.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lena” He replied with a smile of his own. Ugh, his azure blue eyes were seriously going to be my downfall. “What has you headed to L.A?”

“My brother lives there. I’m just going to visit for the summer. “A much-needed break from reality.” I replied, impressed that my inner fangirl wasn’t showing through...at least I hoped it wasn’t noticeable to Chris.

“I can definitely understand the need for a break.” He said, “The whole summer, huh? Must be a teacher?”

“Very good deduction skills!” I said laughing

“My older sister is a teacher as well, it was an easy deduction to make” He smirked, winking at me. “What do you teach?”

“I’m a second-grade teacher, although there are days I’d say ‘kitten wrangler’ would be a better job title.” I replied honestly. “Especially this past school year.”

“An entire room full of, what… 8-year-olds?” His eyes widened, “That’d be like a room full of my nephews… yeah, you need a break!”

“Yeah, 7 and 8-year-olds… 30 of them to be exact.” I replied, “I’m a kitten-wrangling ninja, what’s your superpower?”

He threw his head back at that and laughed, his left hand coming up to grab his chest. I smiled like an idiot at the fact that I was able to make him laugh hard enough to get the left boob grab.

“Super-human strength, quick healing abilities, and I look damn good for 100!” He replied, cheekily.

“Your tea Ma’am” the flight attendant interrupted, bringing my much-needed drink.

“Thank you so much!” I replied, taking the steaming cup.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Evans?” she asked Chris, batting her eyelashes at him. I turned my head away to quickly stifle the snicker that was bubbling up.

“I’m good for now, thanks though.” He replied, then turning back towards me.

“Get that often, Mr. Evans. Or do you prefer Captain?” I asked as the flight attendant walked away.

“So, you do know who I am. I wasn’t too sure if you did or didn’t know.” He replied, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, figured that one out as soon as I looked up.” I replied gently, “But, honestly, I get that constant public adoration can get old, so I kept the fangirling to a minimum.”

“Fangirling, huh?” He asked, his smile getting bigger. “So, you’re a fan?”

“I may or may not be team Cap” I replied, my inner nerd shining through. “I’m also team Thor though, so…”

“I’ll take it!” He replied laughing, “You said team Cap first, so that’s all I’m hearing.”

It was my turn to throw my head back laughing at his child-like response. It was nice to see the playful side of Chris, the true person that he is not the actor everyone knows.

“Welcome aboard flight 723 with non-stop service to LAX.” One of the flight attendants announced, “We will be pushing back and getting underway here in the next few minutes. At this time, we ask that you make sure that your seatbelts are fastened and return any seats and trays to the upright position. We are right on time, and should be landing at LAX at approximately 9:55 am local time.”

“Ugh, this is my least favorite part of flying. I wish I could just click my heels and arrive wherever I want to be.” I admitted to him in a nervous manner.

“Not a fan of flying?” He asked sympathetically, looking over at me.

“In general, flying is fine” I responded, trying to keep my breathing normal, “It’s taken off and landings I’m not exactly fond of.”

“Did you have a bad experience?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Nope” I replied, “But the way I see it, if something goes wrong at either takeoff or landing, you’re close enough to the ground still where chances are it’s going to hurt. When you’re in the air, you’re high enough up where if you crash, you’re just dead and won’t know how much the pain sucks.”

Chris was momentarily speechless as he processed my theory. I’m sure the theory is flawed but hey, fears are generally irrational right?

“Wow” he said finally, “I can’t say I’ve ever thought of it that way before.”

“I’ve never actually put that into words before, and I will admit that it does sound absurd.” I replied, “It sounded much less insane in my head.”

“No, not insane.” He quickly reassured me, “Probably has some validity to it...somewhere.”

“You’re way too nice!” I replied smiling, “Let’s pretend I didn’t disclose that information, and you don’t know the level of my nerdiness.”

“We’ve all got some nerdiness in us,” he replied with a flirty smile, “But I have to admit that the nerdiness is pretty damn adorable on you.”

I could feel my face heating up at the compliment. Holy shit, Chris Evans just called me adorable. My inner fangirl was screaming.

Before I was able to form a response, the plane started moving away from the gate. I could feel anxiety starting to boil in my gut. I gripped the armrest of my seat, knuckles turning white.

“Hey” Chris said softly, pulling my attention away from the window, “Keep breathing, Lena” His

right hand reached over and gently engulfed my hand in his own. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax.

“I promise I’m not normally such a spaz.” I said apologetically, looking at him.

“None of that,” He said smiling, “We all have things that make us anxious. No judgement here.”

“So, are you heading back to L.A. for work or is that your home base?” I asked, trying to focus on something else.

“A little of both actually.” He replied, “I’m meeting with a director about a film I’m really interested in doing, but I do have a house in L.A. that I spend a lot of time at. Home though… that’s always Boston. Where is home for you?”

“I live in Providence, but I grew up in Newport.” I replied, “With the exception of my brother, the rest of my family is all still in Rhode Island.”

“Another New Englander!” He said smiling broadly, “It’s not Boston, but… you’re in the right region!”

“The only time I’m ever in Boston is when I’m catching a flight.” I admitted, “I always tell myself I’m going to drive up and spend some time there especially Salem, but something always comes up.”

“What!?” He exclaimed, “There is so much more to Boston than the AIRPORT!”

I laughed at the shock and dismay displayed on his face and in his voice.

“I’ll make a point to get there before I go back to work this fall.” I laughed, crossing my heart like the second graders I taught often did.

“I’ll hold you to that” He said, attempting to give me a stern look...but failing, as the laughter in his eyes gave him away. “What are you planning on doing while in L.A. this summer?”

“My brother actually lives in Malibu, so I will be spending as much time at the beach as possible.” I was very excited to spend time in the Pacific Ocean, surfing and hopefully diving at some point. The Atlantic was great, but definitely much colder. “I will also be buying an annual pass to Disneyland so I can go as often as I want and get my Disney fix. Once will definitely not be enough.”

“You’re a Disney fan too?” Chris asked, eyes growing wide, “You’re perfect you know that?”

“Far from it, I assure you.” I laughed, “Just ask my brothers.”

“Are you a Patriot’s fan?” he asked, turning his whole body towards me now. “Because seriously, if you are, I’m marrying you as soon as we get off this plane.”

I laughed and tucked a stray piece of brown hair back behind my ear nervously.

“I’m not really into football…” I replied smiling, “I’m more of a soccer fan. I enjoy baseball too.”

“I can accept that” He replied smiling widely, “I don’t know much about soccer, but what’s your favorite baseball team?”

“The Red Sox.” I replied, “My dad is a huge Sox fan, as are all my brothers. Mikey tries to play like he’s a Dodger fan now that he lives in L.A, but honestly that’s just to mess with my dad.”

“I was right, Lena.” Chris said teasingly, “You're legitimately perfect.”

“Even if I’m not a football fan?” I laughed. Butterflies were swarming in my belly for a whole new reason now. My fear of taking off, long forgotten. I glanced quickly out the window to realize we were in the air. Chris had kept me occupied to ease my anxiety during takeoff. “Well played, Evans.” I said, looking back over at him. He shrugged and gave me a boyish smile.

“Sometimes it helps to keep the mind busy when you’re anxious so that you aren’t focused on what is causing the anxiety.” He replied, seemingly from experience.

“Thank you” I replied simply. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“So, what’s your favorite ride at Disney?” He asked, changing topics.

“Is it acceptable to say that I love them all?” I asked him hopefully. Seriously, how do you choose just one ride?

“Nope. You got to pick one,” he said, shaking his head, “No cop out answers.”

“Ok, well I adore Space Mountain, but I also love The Matterhorn. The Haunted Mansion though is also a favorite…” I replied, “Best I can do is Top 3 favorites.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” He conceded, “Good choices too. You went with the classics.”

“What are your favorite rides?” I asked, “And no ‘cop out’ answers either.”

“Space Mountain.” He said without hesitation. “That’s the one I could ride all day.”

“Favorite Disney movie?” I asked him.

“Of all time? Dumbo” he replied, “But I honestly love all the Classic Disney movies, and the newer ones too. What’s yours?”

“All-time favorite… Pinocchio.” I replied thoughtfully. “I adore Jiminy Cricket. But I also wore out two copies of the Oliver and Company movie.”

“I love Oliver and Company!” He exclaimed, “My dog, Dodger, is named after the Dodger in that movie!”

“It’s a great movie.” I agreed, “Where’s Dodger now?”

“He’s back in Boston with my mom and sister.” he said, a sad smile on his face. It was obvious he loved his dog. I’d read and watched interviews with him, whenever asked about his dog he lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“Are you going to be in L.A for a long time?” I asked

“Depends on my meeting with the director, I guess.” He replied, “If it goes well, I’ll bring Dodge out and we’ll stay out here until filming ends. I don’t have anything else on the schedule at the moment. Just finished my contract with Marvel.”

“It’s got to be a good feeling to have the freedom to just relax and pick what you want to work on.” I said, “I won’t lie though, I’m heartbroken you won’t be Captain American anymore.”

“It was hard to walk away after the last day on set, but it was definitely time. I was burning out.” he said honestly, “I feel like I went out on the right note though.”

“I’ll admit that I literally ugly cried in the theater during Endgame.” I confided in him, “Complete with crocodile tears, blotchy eyes...the whole nine yards. You broke my heart into a million tiny pieces.”

“But it’s not like Cap died!” he reasoned, “He just finally got the chance to live out the life he wanted!”

“Although that part did make me teary, the part that broke me was watching Cap get his heart broken when Natasha and Tony died.” I explained, “The scene where you��re sitting there and the tears are falling… ugh.”

“If it helps, it was extremely difficult for us all to make it through that film.” He said, “We were all emotionally attached to the characters.”

“That does make me feel better, thanks.” I replied.

The rest of the flight was spent talking about anything and everything. I was so caught up in the

conversation that I never even heard them announce we were beginning our descent into L.A., so when the plane touched down and started to taxi up to the terminal gate, I was shocked.

“Again, well played Mr. Evans” I laughed looking back over to Chris. “Thank you”

“I really enjoyed this flight, Lena.” He said smiling, “I’m actually kind of sad we’ve landed.”

“I can honestly say, this is the best flight I’ve ever had.” I admitted, a blush spreading over my neck and face. “I wouldn’t have been sad if it had been longer.”

The plane had taxied into the designated gate and came to a stop. Around us people were rushing to gather up their belongings.

“As crazy as this sounds, I’d really like to see you again.” Chris said, looking anxious for the first time since he’d introduced himself. It was as though he doubted, you’d want to see him again, which made absolutely zero sense!

“It doesn’t sound crazy, Chris” I reassured him softly. “I would like to see you again too.”

“Put your number in my phone and then I’ll text you so you have mine.” He said handing me his phone.

I quickly typed my number into his phone before handing it back to him. He finished saving the contact info and then sent a text to me. I heard my phone’s notification ping, alerting me to a new message. It was if the ping of my phone set off a swarm of butterflies in my belly. The anxiety from earlier in the flight was back, but for a whole new reason.

I opened up the message from Chris and quickly saved his contact info. Chris grabbed his bag down out of the overhead compartment then grabbed mine down and handed it over to me.

“I’m assuming since you’re here for a while, you’ve got more luggage checked” He laughed,

“Either that, or you travel extremely light.”

“Honestly, I probably over packed” I laughed, rolling my eyes at myself. “I never know what I’ll need or want when traveling so I just throw it all into the luggage and go with it.”

“That’s one way to do it, I suppose.” He winked at me, “If you don’t mind, I’ll walk with you that way. I’m getting picked up at arrivals anyway.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I replied, “My brother is supposed to be picking me up. I’m guessing he’ll be at arrivals too.”

We walked towards baggage claim, making our way through the large crowds at LAX. I noticed

Chris kept hat down low over his eyes, doing his best to blend in and not be recognized. He stayed close to me, trying to avoid being separated.

We arrived at baggage claim right as the bags were starting to appear on the conveyor belt.

Luckily, my bag came around quickly. I grabbed it off the belt and turned around, almost running straight into Chris. I hadn’t realized he was so close.

“Sorry!” he said, a boyish grin on his face, as he steadied me, “I didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

“No worries” I said breathily, enjoying the close proximity to him. “I think this is the fastest my bag has ever gotten off the plane. Thankfully, it wasn’t lost this time!”

“That’s happened before?” His eyebrows shot up in shock, “That must have sucked!”

“It did” I agreed, “I was in Germany too, which made it even worse. I was with a student group and we weren’t staying in one spot, so it was quite the production getting my stuff to me!”

“Well at least had it happened here, you’d have been stationary” He laughed, “How long did it take to get reunited with your luggage?”

“It took 3 days for it to catch up with us.” I said, “Thankfully, I had enough in my carry on that I was able to survive the separation.”

“LENA!” I heard a familiar voice yell. I quickly looked up and around for the source of the voice to find my sister in law, holding a neon green sign with my name in pink sparkles. I laughed, shaking my head at her.

“Talia!” I giggled heading over to her and hugging her. I adored my sister in law, in fact, she was probably my favorite. “Was the sign necessary?”

“Of course, it was!” she replied laughing, “I’d hate to be accused of being basic!”

“Extra… yes” I laughed, “Never basic.”

“I see you’ve made a friend already” She said, glancing over to where Chris was standing, his eyes dancing with laughter at the exchange.

“Talia, this is Chris.” I said making the introduction. I figured she had already figured out exactly who he was. “Chris, my sister in law, Talia.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Chris” She said smiling brightly. Talia is also a huge Marvel fan, but she’s more team Iron Man/ RDJ. Being married to my brother, she was used to being around celebrities and has perfected the art of remaining cool. I had a feeling I needed to take a page from her book this summer if I was going to survive in my brother’s world.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Talia.” Chris responded warmly.

“Ok, let’s get out of here!” Talia exclaimed, “Michael gave me strict orders to bring you straight to him before going to the house. I think he missed his baby sister.”

“I’ve definitely missed him too” I said, excited to see him.

We all headed out of the airport and into the balmy California weather. I smiled looking around at the palm trees and feeling thesunshine beat on my face. It was going to be a great summer!

Straight ahead of us was a pick up line filled with limos, black SUVs, and sedans along with their drivers holding signs with the people they were looking for.

“There’s my ride,” Chris said, seeing his name in the line. He wrapped me in a quick hug before pulling back and smiling. “I’ll text you later Lena and we can make plans to get together.”

“Sounds great!” I beamed, trying to remember how to breathe. Chris Evans just hugged me!

Talia and I quickly made our way across the pickup lanes and headed towards the parking garage attached to the airport.

“Already making friends with Hollywood Heartthrobs before even landing in L.A., huh?” Talia joked as I threw my luggage into the back of her black Land Rover.

“He’s super sweet, Lia!” I gushed, “He kept me occupied the entire flight, especially during takeoff and landing, so I wouldn’t freak out. We talked about everything, and he never made me feel like a major dork.”

“Michael has mentioned several times that he’s very down to earth and a genuinely nice person.” She revealed, “He’s actually meeting with Chris this week about a part in the film he’s directing.”

“Ohmygod!” I exclaimed, “THAT’S the movie he was talking about? He said he was in town to meet with a director but never said what the film was or which director. What is the flipping’ odds he’d be meeting with my brother?”

“Hollywood is actually not that big” Talia said laughing, “Everyone is essentially connected to someone through a mutual friend. Not that shocking he’d know Michael. I’m guessing Chris didn’t put it together?”

“My last name never came up honestly” I replied, “Well, I guess this means I’m guaranteed to see him again!”

Being that it was past rush hour, it didn’t take too long to get from the airport to the studio lot where Michael was preparing for his next film. Talia found a parking spot close to a large building that I assumed contained a sound stage.

“Alright, he’s inside meeting with a few set designers. He said to come straight in when we got

here.” Talia said getting out of the vehicle.

We walked into the building, which currently looks like a cross between an airplane hangar and a warehouse.

“There’s my Little-Bit!” Michael said jogging over towards us. He quickly scooped me up into a hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. “I’ve missed your kiddo!”

“I’ve missed you too, Mikey!” I said laughing, “I hate that we live on opposite sides of the country now!”

“I know, Kiddo.” He said setting me back on my feet and taking a step back, “You know, there are plenty of schools out here you can teach at.”

“Don’t tempt me!” I joked, “We just had one of the worst winters in over a decade this year… the temptation to leave it all behind is strong.”

“I know you probably want to get settled and freshen up from your trip, but I couldn’t wait to see you” He said, “I have a few more meetings but should be out of here by early afternoon, so we can make plans to go out somewhere for dinner tonight.”

“Perfect, I am in desperate need of shower and clean clothes.” I replied, “Other than that, my social calendar is wide open.”

“For now, at least.” Talia teased, bumping into me and smirking. “I doubt it stays that way.”

“Yeah, I’m totally on the prowl to fill my calendar” I rolled my eyes, trying to play her comment off so Michael wouldn’t ask questions.

“That’ll be hard to do if you spend all summer at Disney, Little-Bit.” Michael teased, “Although, I hear Goofy is still single.”

“Oh wow, all have jokes today.” I laughed, turning towards Talia “On that note, I’m ready to leave now.”

“OK, you’re chariot awaits milady!” She responded, “I’ll see you at home, baby.”

“Drive safe, stay out of trouble.” He said, “Love you both.”

________________________________

I woke the next morning to my cell phone alerting me to a new message. I sat up and grabbed my phone. I was shocked that I’d managed to sleep past nine. I leaned back against the queen-sized headboard and opened up my text messages.

C: 7:35AM Hey Lena, I’ve got a meeting this morning about that project I mentioned but would

really love to see get together later if you’re available. Maybe get some coffee, or another beverage?

C: 8:00 AM Ok, that sounded really lame. Let me try again. Lena, would you like to go out for a drink later?

L: 9:04 AM Hi! Sorry, I just woke up! You didn’t sound lame at all. I’d love to get coffee...or another beverage with you later! I don’t think I have anything going on today. Let me track down my brother to make sure he didn’t plan anything.

I pushed the covers back and got out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet in the guest bedroom I was staying in. I pulled my long brown hair up into a messy knot on top of my head, deciding to deal with it later, and headed downstairs in search of Michael or Talia to see what the plans for the day were.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear voices on the back patio that overlooked the beach. I detoured to the kitchen first to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before heading out to the patio.

I opened the French doors and stepped out onto the cool bricks, before stopping dead in my tracks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Morning, Little Bit!” Michael said cheerfully, oblivious to my panic. “This is Chris, I’m trying to recruit him for my current project.”

“We actually met on the plane yesterday,” Chris said, winking at me with a smirk, “Morning, Lena. Love your shirt.”

I quickly glanced down, forgetting what I was wearing, and realized I still had on my old Red Sox tank and a pair or navy-blue sleep shorts.

“Thanks” I laughed nervously, “Good Morning.”

“Grab a seat Lena and join us for breakfast” Michael offered, “Lia had to meet with a client this morning, but will be back later.”

I sat down, next to Michael, which put me directly across from where Chris was sitting. I grabbed some grapes from the fruit bowl and placed them on the plate in front of me. Michael passed a platter of bacon and toast, so I added some of that to my plate as well.

“Lia made sure to make some of the bacon extra crispy for you too” Michael said shaking his

head, “although by that point it’s like eating straight bacon bits.”

“I’ll only eat it when it’s crispy because I can’t stand the idea that I’m gnawing on pig fat.” I replied, sticking my tongue out at him. “You’re lucky I’m even eating pork again.”

“There was a time you didn’t eat pork?” Chris asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“I had to dissect a pig in my honors biology class sophomore year.” I replied, “my lab partner was a little over zealous, and after a week of picking at a pig carcass, I couldn’t bring myself to eat pork anymore.”

“She wouldn’t eat any meat for about a month.” Michael added smiling at me.

“What made you decide to start eating meat again?” Chris asked curiously.

“I missed cheeseburgers” I shrugged, “Being a vegetarian wasn’t working for me, so I decided to be a porketarian instead.”

Chris laughed, shaking his head, “How long did you go without eating pork?”

“I just started eating it again about a year ago.” I admitted. “So, about 20 years.”

“That’s a long time.” he said looking shocked, “What made you decide to eat it again?”

“She missed bacon” Michael replied.

“Pretty much” I agreed. “I missed BLTs… and turkey bacon wasn’t the same.”

“Fair enough” Chris said.

“So, what’s on your agenda today Mickey?” I asked my brother, steering the conversation away from me.

“I have a couple of meetings at the studio but I should be wrapped up by late afternoon, I was planning on grabbing steaks on the way home so we can throw them on the grill tonight.” He replied, “What are your plans for today?”

“I was thinking of going to grab coffee, or a beverage of some kind today” I smirked at Chris.

___________________________

That’s all I’ve got! Should I make a part 2?? Thanks for reading!!

#chris evans #fanfic

102 notes · View notes