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atlafan · 4 years

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Sweet Tooth - One Shot

a/n: dentistrry is here!! I only researched a couple of things, so if you’re in the dentistry/medical field please don’t come for me if things are inaccurate, it’s just a fic, you know? This ia really cute, sweet, datey fic, so I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful! (not proofread) Consider buying me a coffee if you’re able!

Warnings: fluff and smut (the word molested is used, nothing bad happens or has happened to the main characters, it’s just mentioned during a conversation)

Pairing: Harry x OC

Words: 18K

“Dad, I can go by myself.” Abby groans to her father.

“I have to make sure everything gets billed correctly. Your dentist said only two are impacted, so only half is covered my medical and the other half is covered by dental.”

She huffs out a sigh, but nods her head as they enter Tufts Medical Center. Abby was finally getting a consult for her wisdom teeth. Perhaps at the age of twenty she felt a little late to the game for this, but her mouth had only started to hurt a little this past year. She was a little nervous about being knocked out for surgery, but she also just wanted her mouth to feel better. It was the summer before her junior year of college, so now was the perfect time to get it done. Abby and her dad make their way through the building, and get to the floor they need to be on.

“Abigail Simmons.” Her dad says to the receptionist and she nods.

“Someone will be out for her shortly. Did you have her most recent x-rays sent to us?”

“Yes.” Her dad says, and they both go to take a seat.

Abby’s leg was bouncing and she was chewing on her bottom lip. It was just a consult, there was really nothing to be worried about.

“Abigail?” Her eyes widen as she looks over at the person who just said her name. He had a toothy smile and was wearing a set of blue scrubs. She and her father both stand up. “Hi, I’m Harry, you can follow me.” He smiles to the two of them as he leads them to the consult rooms. He gets Abby situated in the dental chair. “Just so you both know, I am a student, but a competent one, which is why one of the other nurses isn’t here, but one of them will come by shortly, and so will the doctor.” He sits down on the stool and wheels over to Abby as he puts his gloves on. “Heard your mouth’s been sore, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“She called me at school in tears.” Her dad says and she glares at him.

“College student?” Harry raises an eyebrow and looks back at the computer to review her x-rays. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.” Abby says.

“Your teeth are, like, really straight. Did you have braces?”

“When she was in middle school. She stills wears her retainer.”

Harry and Abby both look at her father and blink. He was really starting to piss her off. She could answer for herself.

“Well, you’ve got a very good girl here, don’t you, Mr. Simmons? Listen, uh, this is going to take a few minutes. I need to look at all of her teeth and confirm the ones that are impacted and if the other two have room or not. There’s another waiting area right over there. I’ll call you back over once the doctor’s here. Would that be alright?”

“It’s just…Abby’s really nervous-“

“Dad, please, I’m fine.”

“Alright.” Her dad sighs. “I’ll be right over there.”

“Bit of a helicopter you have there.” Harry smirks at her.

“Thank you for getting rid of him. I bring myself to the doctor all the time, but for whatever reason he was adamant about coming to this.”

“It’s major surgery I don’t blame him.” Harry grabs a bib to put around Abby. “So, you go by Abby?”

“Mhm.” She blushes as he clips the bib in place and adjusts her hair.

“Is it true, are you nervous?”

“A little…mostly about the surgery, not so much about the rest. I’m not one of those people that’s afraid of the dentist.”

“No worries, love, you’ll be in good hands with us.” He smiles. “I’m gonna put the chair back now, alright?”

“Okay.”

The chair slowly goes back, and he situates a pair of sunglasses onto her before fixing the light over her eyes.

“Could you open up for me as much as you can? I’ll try to be as gentle as possible since I know you’re experiencing a lot of discomfort.”

She nods and opens up wide. She feels his pinkies enter her mouth and feel around her gums. She winces a few times when he brushes up against the back of her mouth. She hears him whisper sorry a few times. Abby tries to focus on anything else. She focuses on how green his eyes are, and how seemingly perfect his skin is. Her mind wanders to how people get skin like that. What’s his routine? How could she get skin as smooth? Does he see a dermatologist regularly?

“Okay, Abby, I’m gonna out the chair back upright, and go grab your dad and the doctor. Hope that didn’t hurt too much.”

“It was fine, thank you.”

Abby’s dad, two nurses, Harry, and the doctor all come over to her to discuss her teeth. She definitely needed all four removed. They settle on a date for her to come back and have the procedure done, and Harry gives her the rundown on how to prep for the surgery.

“We’ll see you in a couple of weeks, Abby.” Harry smiles.

“You’ll be here?”

“You bet.”

Even though she was nervous as fuck to go under, she was almost excited to see the handsome dental student again. At least it was something to look forward to.

Abby had an early morning surgery, and she had to stop eating the night before. So she was exhausted and starving, not to mention she was a ball of nerves. Her dad drove her in for the appointment, and assured her he’d be there afterwards.

“Abby?” Harry comes out all scrubbed up and ready to go. She stands up and waves back to her dad before going with him. He brings her over to a consult chair and types on the computer. “Alright, whatcha have for breakfast?”

“N-nothing, I haven’t eaten since dinner last night.”

“Good girl.” He says without looking at her. “And what about a midnight snack?”

“Harry, I haven’t eaten since dinner last night.”

“You remembered my name?” He asks as he turns to her, and she blushes.

“Sort of hard to forget the British guy that told my dad to go sit somewhere else.” She smirks, and it makes him laugh. “Will you be in the operating room?”

“Yup, I’ll be there the whole time. I’m the hand holder.”

“The hand holder?”

“Mhm, while they’re helping you get to sleep I’ll be holding your hand, making sure you’re alright. I also get to put the IV in your arm.”

“Lucky you.” She deadpans and it makes him laugh again.

“What are you in school for?”

“Psychology. I’d like to be the type of doctor that doesn’t have to deal with all this.” She gestures around the room.

“Helping people on a whole other level, I see.” He nods.

The doctor comes over, and she must have gotten asked about four more times if she had eaten breakfast. She gets settled in the chair in the new room where she’d be operated on. She watches as Harry gets the IV in her arm, and then he holds her hand, just like he said he was. He was wearing a mask now, but she could tell he was smiling.

“Don’t worry, Abby, the next time you wake up these nasty teeth will be gone.”

She nods at him and squeezes his hand as they get the oxygen hooked up to her nose. His thumb rubs the back of her hand as a nurse puts the mask over her mouth, and her eyes slowly start to droop. The last image she has is Harry’s hand in hers.

When Abby wakes up, her eyes immediately well up with tears as she looks around the room. She sees her dad sitting in a chair reading a magazine, and she sees the IV still hooked up to her arm. She makes a whining noise and her dad looks over at her.

“Hey, you’re awake.” He smiles. “Everything went really well, honey. You did great.”

After about ten minutes a nurse comes in and takes the IV out. In her daze she tried looking for Harry, but she couldn’t find him. She was so delirious she could barely walk, and her dad had to help her to the car. She just wanted to say thank you to Harry for holding her hand, but she never got the chance.

Several years later, Abby had finished her master’s degree in counseling, and just finished up her licensure program. She already had a few different job opportunities lined up. The one she wanted most was at a local university at a counseling center. Being a student in today’s age was tough, and Abby wanted to be someone they could open up to. She had done extremely well in her postgraduate internship, so she had impeccable recommendations. She just needed to narrow things down to what school she wanted to work for, and that ultimately came down to benefits. She ended up going with UMASS Boston. It was a school a lot of her friends attended, so she sort of knew the campus, it was easy enough to get to by train, and the benefits were great.

After getting the first semester under her belt, Abby was feeling confident in what she was doing. She was truly helping students. She’d even be able to go for her PhD for free after she had six months under her belt. With winter break underway, Abby was getting caught up on some self-care, which meant going in for her annual cleaning.

“Hello, this is MidCity General Denstistry, may I please speak with Abigail Simmons?”

“This is she.”

“Hi, Abigail, this is a call to remind you of your appointment this week.”

“Right, Wednesday at 3PM?”

“Correct, and I have to inform you that your usual dentist, Dr. Morgan, has recently retired.”

“Oh…I mean good for her, I just liked her a lot.” Abby chuckles.

“Don’t worry, our new doctor, Dr. Styles, is amazing and everyone’s really like him so far. He’s taking over all of Dr. Morgan’s patients.”

“Okay, that should be fine. See you Wednesday!” Abby hangs up the phone and puts an extra reminder on her phone so she wouldn’t forget.

On Wednesday, she checked in and was brought into the back by a nurse, Marie. She was the dental assistant that would be doing her cleaning, nothing out of the ordinary. Although, Abby was starting to get aggravated because Marie kept sticking the pick into the same tooth in the back of her mouth. She hears Marie sigh.

“Abby, it seems like you may have a cavity. Dr. Styles will be able to confirm it. Let me polish you up, and then I’ll go get him.”

Before Abby has a chance to respond, Marie was already polishing her teeth. She was left to lay back in the chair while Marie went to get Dr. Styles.

“Hello, Miss Simmons.” Abby’s eyes widen when she hears his voice. He sits on a stool and wheels over next to her. “I’m Dr. Styles, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to her and she takes it. “Mind if I take a quick peak at everything else before I inspect this possible cavity?”

“N-no, go ahead.”

“Thank you, open wide for me.”

She does so, and he sticks his gloved fingers into her mouth, feeling around her gums, and making sure everything’s alright. Next he grabs the tools and does a quick inspection of her overall mouth before poking at the tooth that Marie said was the problem. Abby notices how he hum along to the music playing on the radio. It was almost soothing.

“Okay, I’m gonna hit the button so you can sit up.” He says to her. Marie moves the light, and Abby takes the sunglasses she was given off. Her eyes widen again when she gets a good look at him.

Abby had come into contact with a lot of people in her life since the time she was twenty. It would be odd to remember someone that helped with her oral surgery, but too much was adding up. A man with a British accent, the same green eyes, and he was in the dental profession. She was finally going to get a chance to thank him.

“You have a cavity.” He sighs.

“I’ve never had one in my life.” She shakes her head.

“Happens to the best of us.” Dr. Styles chuckles. “Are you eating a lot of sweets?”

“Um, well, I’m a counselor at UMASS Boston, and I tend to suck on jolly ranchers when I’m meeting with students. Helps remind me to just sit and listen and not interrupt.”

“Ah, that’s a pretty good trick. Maybe try sugar free gum?”

“No, gum gives me a headache.” She shakes her head. “I prefer to suck than to chew.”

“Right.” He swallows. “Maybe try sucking on some mints then?”

“Sure, I can try that.” She smiles at him.

“Good girl.” He smiles back at her. That just sealed the deal it was definitely him. “Marie here will help you set up an appointment so I can take care of this for you.”

“You’ll be doing the procedure?”

“Mhm, you’re stuck with me now…unless you want to switch to another doctor, which I hope you don’t. Hope you’re not missing Dr. Morgan too much.”

“Not as much as I thought, that’s for sure. Um…this may be a weird question, but did you happen to be a student at Tufts Medical Center?”

“I was! It’s where I went after I got my bachelor’s. I can perform oral surgery, but I much prefer doing stuff like this. Can fill a cavity in my sleep. How did you know I went there?”

“I…this is going to sound so weird, but, like, six years ago you…held my hand when I got my wisdom teeth out.” Harry’s eyes widen at that. “Normally I wouldn’t remember someone so well, but…it’s not every day I have a British doctor.”

“Oh, wow, you remember me doing that?”

“Yeah, and we left before I ever got a chance to say thank you for keeping me so calm. So…thanks.” She blushes.

“I wish…I wish I remembered that. They often had me as the hand holder. How nice for our paths to cross again, huh? Promise to be just as good a dentist as I was at holding your hand.”

“That’s all I could hope for.” She smirks, and it makes him chuckle. “Right, well, Marie, please help Miss Simmons set up her appointment with me so we can get this cavity filled.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Styles.” Marie says as she makes a few clicks on the computer.

Just like that he was gone. He had grown into quite the handsome man since she last saw him. Not that he wasn’t before, but he looked more adult now. She wondered how much older he was than her. More importantly, she wondered if he was single.

It was about a week later when Abby came in to have her cavity taken care of. Marie was the dental assistant again which brought Abby some comfort. Marie gets her prepped in the chair as they wait for Harry to come into the private room.

“Alright, good morning, Miss Simmons.” He says brightly.

“You can just call me Abby if you want…” She says shyly.

“Okay, Abby, it is. Let’s fill this cavity, yeah?” He sits on the stool and wheels over to her. “Gotta give you a spot of nova cane, but before I do that we have to numb the area a bit, so this little thing that looks like a lollypop is gonna go in.” Abby nods. “Open up for me.” She does so. “Good girl, thank you.” He places the numbing stick inside her mouth and she scrunches her face. “I know, it doesn’t taste very good, sorry.” He stands back up. “I’ll be back in about five minutes.”

True to his word, Harry comes back five minutes later, and takes the numbing stick out of Abby’s mouth. Next he has her open up so he can administer the nova cane. He tells her she might feel a slight pinch, and she accidentally grabs onto his thigh.

“S-sorry.” Abby says as she takes her hand off him. “I may not be afraid of the dentist, but I really don’t like needles.”

Harry and Marie share a glance, and then Harry looks at Abby.

“Marie, would you mind handling the nova cane so I can hold Abby’s hand?”

“Sure thing, Dr. Styles.”

Harry hands the needle to Marie, and then Harry grabs onto Abby’s hand. He smiles softly at her, and she’s able to focus on him and not the needle going into her gums. Marie says it’s all set, so Harry gets back into position with the drill.

“If it hurts, just let me know and we can numb you a bit more.” Harry says to her. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

Abby pinches her eyes closed the second the drill comes into contact with her tooth. Thank god Harry was wearing a mask because he couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked. Luckily, Abby didn’t suffer too much. The procedure didn’t take too long, and she was sitting upright before she knew it.

“You did great.” Harry smiles at her. “So, that side of your mouth will be numb for a bit. Give it a few hours before you eat anything, avoid hot foods.” Abby just nods her head along, too embarrassed to speak because she knew she would sound stupid. “Have you made your appointment for your next cleaning?” She nods again. “Great, Marie, I’m just gonna go over another few things with Abby, feel free to go on your break.”

“Oh, alright. See you in six months, Abby.” Marie smiles, and leaves the room as Abby waves to her.

“I actually already went over everything with you. I…uh…just wanted her to step out.” Abby’s eyes widen at that. “I was actually wondering, um, if you’d like to go out for coffee sometime…you know, when you can have hot liquids again.” He blushes and so does she. She nods yes at him quickly. “You do? Great, um, can I have your number then?” Abby frantically reaches for the phone in her pocket, unlocks it, and then hands it to Harry so he can add his contact. “I’ll call you in a couple of days so we can set something up, yeah?”

She smiles and nods as she takes her phone back. Her heart was fluttering. She felt like she was in a dream or something. Coffee couldn’t come soon enough.

Harry called Abby a couple of days later, just like he said he would, and they agreed upon what coffee shop they should meet up at on Saturday. Her mouth was feeling much better, and she was really excited to see him. She was still in shock that he asked her out in the first place. She thought she’d have to wait another six months to see him again.

He got to the coffee shop first, and decided to wait outside for her. He smiles when he sees her and they step inside.

“It’s on me.” He says. “Get whatever you like.”

“Oh! That’s so nice of you.” Abby blushes. “Thanks.” They each order and grab a table to sit at. It was too cold outside to go for a walk.

“I just want to preface by saying I’ve never asked out a patient before.” Harry says to her.

“So…why ask me out then?”

“I just found it really endearing that you remembered me, and all you wanted to do was say thank you to me for doing something so simple.”

“Harry, I had just turned twenty, I was practically still a kid. I had never gone under or had a surgery before, I was petrified. My dad was just as nervous, you were the only thing that calmed me down.”

“So, that would make you roughly twenty-six now?”

“Yes it would.” She smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty-two next month.” It was an age difference both of them might have been against those years ago, but not now. They were both well into adulthood, had their careers, and had some life experience under their belts. “It’s killing me that I don’t remember you.”

“It’s really okay. You’ve probably seen so many patients. I’m sure years down the line I won’t remember every student I’ve met with.”

“Right, you said you’re a counselor at…?”

“UMASS Boston.”

“And how do you like doing that?”

“I love it, honestly. I feel so bad for these kids, they have so much on their plates, under all this pressure. It’s really brave of them to come ask for help, so I like giving them a safe space. Some meetings are more serious than others, so it’s never boring. I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.”

“That’s amazing. Feel like I do better talking to people in small spurts, that’s what’s so great about being a dentist. People can’t strike up small talk when you’ve got your fingers in their mouth.” He laughs and so does Abby.

“How long have you been at MidCity for?”

“Like…six months, I think. I like it a lot, everyone’s really nice. Marie’s my favorite assistant, though, sometimes her kids come in and they’re really cute, and her wife bakes the best brownies.”

“She’s usually the one to do my cleanings, I like her a lot too.”

“Can I ask why you chose jolly ranchers to suck on? I mean, how many students are you meeting with? You must go through a ton.”

“I do.” She blushes in embarrassment. “I got them when they were on sale after Halloween…I’m definitely going to try the mints like you said.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He smiles as he takes a bite of his bagel.

“So, how does a doctor such as yourself not already have a girlfriend?”

“Getting right to it, huh?” He smirks and she nods. “Medical school takes up a lot of time, and then when I first started as an intern, I was constantly overworked. I was doing surgeries left and right, I was too exhausted to try and make anything serious work. Then I decided I’d rather be working at a practice. I still do a lot of teeth pulling, but not as much as I was. And now that things have slowed down a bit, I just haven’t met someone I’ve wanted to be serious with.” He shrugs. “What about you?”

“Same thing, sort of.” She giggles. “Grad school was a lot, and then interning was a lot. Now I’m just really settling into my job. I survived the first semester, now I feel like a pro.”

“That’s a good feeling to have. Is your commute long?”

“Not really, I just take the green line to the red and I’m there. Obviously the trains can be unpredictable, but it beats having to pay for a car and car insurance. What about you? Are you in the city, or out in the suburbs.”

“Oh, I’m in the city. I drive to work, though, I’ve got my own parking spot at the back of the building.”

“Well, we can’t all be so special.” She smirks.

“No, I suppose not.” He smirks back at her. “How’s your tooth feel, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s fine, thanks. You’re really good at your job. It was nice of you to hold my hand when Marie did the nova cane.”

“I felt so bad that you were scared.” He reaches across the table and places his hand over hers. “When you grabbed onto me I knew I had to do something.”

“God that was embarrassing. I would have felt so violated if someone did that to me.”

“It’s not like you grabbed my dick, Abby, it’s alright.” He gives her hand a squeeze.

“Right.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “So, do you work a standard Monday through Friday at MidCity, or how does all of that work?”

“Yup, pretty much.” He takes his hand away from hers. “I mean obviously if there’s an emergency we have to cancel appointments, but for the most part we leave spots open for surgeries so people are able to book those easy enough. I usually pop by the cleanings in between cavity fillings and other stuff.”

“What made you want to become a dentist?”

“Well, I knew I wanted to work in the medical field, but selfishly I didn’t want the long hours at hospitals. I don’t have to be on call, like, I don’t have to worry about emergencies in the middle of the night. Not often, anyways.”

“I feel like I would get grossed out looking at teeth all day.” Abby chuckles.

“It’s not as bad as you think. I try to separate the teeth from the person. Like, I was able to give all new teeth to this recovering meth addict. She had this incredible story, and I knew I had to help. She had been sober for five years, but no one would hire her because of her teeth. Now she’s working a corporate job doing great.”

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing.”

“You must have some great stories with your students.”

“Yeah, I’ve really bonded with a few of them. Sometimes they just need someone on their side, you know? A lot of them are first in their family to go to school, so they’re doing a lot on their own.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, it’s good they have a nice person like you to help them.” Harry smiles warmly at her and she smiles back. “Would you, um, would you be interested in going out for dinner some time?”

“I…yeah, I’d love to.” She blinks a couple of times. “I’m free most nights right now because we’re on winter break.”

“You don’t have to go into your office at all?”

“I just answer emails from home.” Abby shrugs.

“Sweet deal.” Harry grins. “So, how would Thursday night work for you?”

“Thursday works great.” She smiles.

They both throw out all of their trash and step out of the coffee shop. They share a gentle hug, and go their separate ways. Harry said he’d call in a couple of days to let her know where he’d be taking her, and she was beyond excited.

Friday night, Harry picked Abby up in front of her building. When he saw her, he got out of the car to open the door for her and she giggled.

“That’s a nice coat.” He says to her.

“Thanks, I got it on sale at L.L. Bean back in August. Keeps me nice and warm.”

“Oh, I love shopping there! Once in a while I’ll take the drive up to New Hampshire to go to the actual store to get the really good stuff. The boots I got from there for the winter will last a life time.”

“Yeah, it’s just good quality stuff. I usually get a decent coupon in the mail or online.” She chews her bottom lip. Clearly Harry had a little more money than she did. “Where are we eating?”

“You’ll love it, it’s this nice Italian place at the North End. I remember you said Italian was something you liked when we spoke on the phone.”

Abby smiles at him and he looks at her briefly to smile back. He finds a place to park, somehow, and they walk towards the restaurants. She hadn’t been to the North End in a while since most of the places were expensive. Harry puts his hand on the small of her back as they walk in, and he tells the hostess he has a reservation. She leads them over to a table for two and he pulls out the chair for her.

“So, how’s your week been?” Abby asks him.

“Pretty good, fit this one person with a new tooth, did a couple of crowns. Same old, same old.” He shrugs. “How about you?”

“Good, I did some virtual sessions with some students who are having shitty winter breaks. I went into the office for a team retreat, and then I updated some spread sheets.” She chuckles.

“That’s nice of you to do virtual appointments.”

“It’s all part of the job.”

“Good evening, folks.” A waiter comes over with water and a basket of rolls. “I’m Parker, can I start you off with any drinks or appetizers?”

“Abby, would you care to get a bottle of white for the table?” Harry asks her.

“Oh, sure, that’s be great. Would Pinot Grigio be alright?”

“It’s perfect. A bottle of Piniot Grigio, please.” He looks down at the menu and furrows his brows at the appetizers. “Calamari?” He asks her and she nods. “Calamari, Parker.”

“Sounds great, I’ll be back in a moment with the wine and to take your dinner orders.”

“The calamari here is excellent, it’s lightly fried in peanut oil so it doesn’t feel heavy.”

“What do you recommend for an entrée?”

“Everything’s good. What are you in the mood for?”

Abby looks down at the menu and her eyebrows raise at the prices.

“Maybe just one of these pasta dishes.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t get the cheapest thing on the menu. Get whatever you like, it’s my treat.”

“Harry, this is gonna be really expensive.”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I couldn’t afford it, please don’t worry about it.”

“O-okay, then…maybe the steak tips with the pan seared peppers.”

“If that’s what you want then you should have it.” Harry smiles. Parker comes over with the bottle of wine, and pours the first two glasses for them. “I’m really glad we could do this tonight.” He grins. “I…found something when I was going through some old things the other day.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow as she sips on her drink.

“It was killing me that I couldn’t remember you, but then it hit me.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a card. “I’ve never been so thankful to be a packrat in my life.” He opens it and smiles. “Dear Harry, I never got a chance to say thank you when you held my hand before my surgery. I figured I’d drop this off when I came in to have my stitches removed. I hope this finds its way to you. You’re going to be a great doctor someday. Sincerely, Abby Simmons.” He smiles at her as he places the card back in his back pocket.

“You…you kept that?”

“It wasn’t often I got cards like that, so I kept it, and once in a while when I needed a pick me up I’d read it. As soon as I re-read it the other day I completely remembered you. I even remembered telling your dad to go sit in the other waiting room.”

“Oh my god.” Abby chuckles. “That was the greatest thing I had ever seen. Think that solidified the crush I had on you.”

“Telling your dad to basically leave you alone?”

“Yeah.” She smirks. “Super hot to see you be so sure of yourself and confident. Plus, he was really pissing me off, talking over me and answering for me.”

“Wow, so I guess I’m the one that away, huh?” He smirks.

“You certainly were. Although, I hadn’t thought about you in quite some time. It’s crazy that you ended up becoming my dentist.”

“Very crazy.” Parker comes over with the calamari and tells the two he’s going to put their orders in now. Harry watches as she sticks her fork into a piece and takes a bite. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She smiles. “This is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

The rest of the date goes really well. Abby and Harry continued to joke around and flirt. It wasn’t until the check came that she felt a little uncomfortable.

“How much is it?” She asks him nervously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirks and slides his card into the slot, letting Parker take it. “Would you like to walk around for a bit, maybe get some dessert by the water?”

“That sounds great, but only if I can pay for dessert.”

“Deal.” He smiles.

Harry holds Abby’s hand as they walk through the little park by the water. Even though it was cold out, it was still a beautiful night. They duck into a gelato place for a little dessert. They decide to split something, which ends up being insanely romantic when Harry lifts his spoon to her lips. She makes a show of it as she takes a bite, licking her lips after and everything. He holds her hand during the drive, and lets her pick the radio station. He gets out and walks her up to the door once they get to her building.

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.” She says to him.

“Me too.” He steps closer to her. “Do you see a third date in our future?”

“Definitely.” She nods. “Do you like bowling?”

“Love bowling. Are you, um, free Saturday night?”

“I can be.” She smiles. “Pick me up around seven?”

“It’s a date.” He smiles. The two stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure if they should kiss or not, so instead Harry opens his arms for hug, and she wraps her arms around his neck. She kisses his cheek, and then he kisses hers. “I’ll see you Saturday, Abby.”

“See you Saturday, Harry.”

Harry was on cloud nine the next day at work. He couldn’t stop thinking about Abby, her smile, her laugh, the little beauty mark she has under right eye. He thought she was gorgeous, charming, and kind. Normally he’d never get involved with a patient, but he couldn’t help it with her. He thought it was so sweet that she remembered him after all this time, and he felt so relieved that he remembered her.

“You’ve had this dreamy look on your face all week, what’s with you?” Marie asks Harry while they’re eating lunch.

“I…sort of met someone, and we’ve been out a couple times…she’s great.”

“That’s great! Anyone I know?”

“Um…well, you know Abigail Simmons…”

“Of course I know Abby! Oh my god, is that why you asked me to step out of the room when you filled her cavity?!”

“I didn’t wanna ask her out in front of you.”

“Harry, since when do you date patients?” She whispers.

“Normally I wouldn’t, but it turns out I met her a long time ago. When I was a student at Tufts I assisted in removing her wisdom teeth.”

“Oh, wow, that’s incredible.” Marie blinks. “When are you seeing her again?”

“Tomorrow night. We’re going bowling, how fun is that?”

“Should be really fun.” Marie grins. “Look at you, putting yourself out there. Now Leigh and I can stop trying to set you up.”

“I’m excited about her. She’s got such a cool job too. I can’t wait to keep getting to know her.”

Since they were going bowling, they could easily just take the train, so Harry takes a cab to Abby’s building Saturday evening. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans and a sweater under his jacket. She comes down the stairs in her long coat, and a Patriots hat on top of her head.

“Hey.” He smiles at her, taking her in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Good.” She smiles up at him. “How are you?”

“Good, great, actually.” He takes her hand and they walk towards the nearest t-stop. They both swipe their Charlie Cards and hop onto the next train.

“I hope you’re okay with candle pins…I’m not good with the big balls.” Abby says to him as they hang onto the same pole of the crowded train.

“I love candle pinning.” He chuckles. “No worries.”

They get to the bowling alley, are given a lane, and get their shoes. Abby takes her hat off and fixes her hair, and then unzips her jacket. She had a pair of jeans on with a red turtleneck. Abby was a short, curvy thing, and Harry absolutely loved it. When Abby first met Harry back when she was twenty, she was a tiny size two, but now she was a comfortable size eight and was fully embracing it. She was healthy, and that was all that mattered.

“Do you want anything to drink? I could get us a pitcher of beer.” Harry says to her as they settle into their lane. “I could get us some pizza too.”

“That sounds great, thanks.” She smiles as she slips her shoes on.

“Be back in a tick.” Harry goes over to the snack bar and gets two slices of pizza and a pitcher of beer. “Here we are.” Harry fills two of the plastic cups up with the beer, and hands one to Abby. “Shall we?”

“Mhm, I already set up the score sheets.” She shows him the large sheet of paper. “Not that I care that much about the score…it’s just fun to keep track.”

Abby bowls first, knocking most of the pins down, and then gets the rest on her second throw. Harry couldn’t help but smile as he watched her to do a little jog and hop as she threw the ball down the lane. He goes up next and immediately gets a strike.

“Woohoo! Go, Harry!” Abby says as she takes a sip of her beer. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a strike before.”

“I could show you how if you want.”

“Isn’t it just luck?”

“Nope, it’s all physics.”

“And…you’re good with physics?”

“Had to take it during pre-med, I even tutored for it. Come on, I’ll show you.” Abby gets up and grabs one of the balls. Harry goes behind her, and puts his hand on one of her shoulders, moving her hair so he can speak closer to her ear. “Okay, so what you’re gonna want to do is walk a little closer to the line, swing the ball back, and let it fly.”

Abby turns slightly to look up at him. Her cheeks were flushed. She nods at him, and does exactly what he said to do, and she gets the strike.

“Oh my god!” She squeals and throws her arms around him. “I can’t believe that worked! You’re amazing!” She kisses his cheek.

“You did great! Nice to know you’re good at following directions.” He winks at her and grabs his next ball.

After three rounds of bowling, and two pitchers of beer, they both head out. They take the train back to the stop nearest to Abby’s apartment, and Harry walks her home.

“I had so much fun tonight, Harry.”

“Me too, I’m glad you suggested bowling.” They both stop in front of her steps. “Can I see you again next weekend?”

“I’d like that.”

“Maybe if it’s not too cold we could go ice skating at Frog Pond.”

“Oh, I’d love to do that! I have my own skates and everything.”

“Perfect.” He smiles and steps closer to her. She looks up at him with her big brown eyes. He didn’t think brown eyes as beautiful as hers existed. “Abby, can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

“Yes.” She nods and smiles up at him.

He cups her cheek and leans down to her. His lips press to hers, and he uses is other hand to cup her other cheek. It’s soft and gentle at first, it grows a little needier as she presses her body to his, but she stops him from walking up the stairs. She pulls away first and blushes.

“Um, well, goodnight.” She says to him.

“Yeah, goodnight.” He rubs the back of his neck. He was sorting of hoping she’d invite him up. It was the third date, after all. Maybe she was a fifth date kind of girl, which he had to respect. “I’ll call you at some point during the week. I’ve got a few different surgeries, though, so if you don’t hear from me a lot that’s why.”

“No worries.” She shrugs. “I’m getting ready for the students to return, and I have some meetings to go to, some seminars, so I’ll be busy myself. Wanna just plan for next Saturday?”

“Sounds good to me.” He leans again to kiss her again, and she happily kisses him back.

“Okay, goodnight for real.” She giggles and walks up her steps. She waves goodbye as she goes into her building and he sighs.

Abby sighs happily as she gets into her apartment and squeals. She immediately texts her best friend everything about her date with Harry. She was so excited about him, and couldn’t believe he was actually interested in her.

They texted here and there during the week. Abby got a little brave and sent him a mirror selfie of her dressed up for work, and he sent one back of himself in his scrubs ready to go in for surgery. Her jaw nearly dropped when she saw him. She had seen him in scrubs before, but it was ages ago. He filled them out so differently now. Plus, the thought of him being a doctor just did things to her insides that she couldn’t even describe. He thought she looked gorgeous in her pin striped slacks and blouse. He couldn’t but think about how lucky each student was that got to sit and talk with her.

Harry was exhausted by the end of the week. He must have extracted over a dozen teeth, filled a stupid amount of cavities, and put on ten different crowns. He couldn’t wait to see Abby Saturday. He asked her to go to the pond a little earlier in the evening so they could get dinner afterwards. The decided to just meet at the pond. She was easy enough to spot now that he knew what her long coat and Patriots hat looked like.

“Harry.” She smiles when she turns to see him. They hug and share a quick peck on the lips. “Did you catch up on some sleep?”

“I did.” He sighs as they find a bench to sit down on to put on their skates. “Been looking forward to seeing you all week. How’d your seminar go?”

“Oh, it was great! It ended up being more of a training, I have a new certification too.”

“That’s amazing, good for you. I’m constantly going to lectures and stuff to stay up to date. I’ve published a couple of things too to some medical journals.”

“That’s so cool! Once I’ve been at UMASS for six months I can start taking classes for free. I’m gonns go for my doctorate, so hopefully I can start publishing some work too.” They both stand up and make their way into the rink. Abby puts her hand out for Harry’s and he takes it as they start to glide on the ice.

“That’s great that they have a program like that for you.”

“I know! I was super happy when I saw that in the benefits package.”

They skate around the rink a few times, enjoying the music that was playing. Harry guides them over to the side for a little break. He presses her against it, his hands going onto the railing, caging her in. She looks up at him, and he leans in to kiss her. She tugs on his coat to pull him closer, and the kiss deepens slightly. Abby really liked kissing Harry. He always tasted like mint, probably because he was constantly chewing gum, and his lips were insanely soft. She starts smiling and so does he, and he presses his forehead to hers.

“Do you feel like going to eat now?” He says to her.

“Yeah.” She nods.

They end up going to a Mexican restaurant not too far from the pond. They each get margaritas and laugh a lot. Harry talks about what it’s like to extract teeth during a surgery, and Abby asks if people ever want to see their teeth afterwards. He asks Abby how she copes when she has to deal with a heavier situation at work, and she says her little Shih Tzu, Marvin, helps make her day a lot better.

“That’s nice your apartment allows pets.” He says to her.

“Yeah, he’s only, like, nine pounds, if that. He’s so cute, do you wanna see a picture?”

“Of course!” Abby pulls out her phone to show Harry a few pictures of Marvin, and even a selfie she took with him. “He’s so cute, and so are you.”

“Thanks.” She giggles.

“He looks like a little stuffed animal.”

“He really does.”

“Why a Shih Tzu?”

“They’re really smart. They’re tough to train because they’re so stubborn, but once they get a little older they start to listen, and they’re pretty self-sufficient alone during the day. Although, sometimes I sneak him into the office.”

“How old is he?”

“About two. Do you have any pets?”

“Nah, I’m not home enough to take care of anything else. But I love dogs, I think they’re great.”

“Well, maybe at some point you can meet little Marv.”

“I’d like that.”

They square up the tab and Harry walks Abby home once again. They kiss for a while outside her front door. He desperately wanted to feel her tongue on his, but she wouldn’t open her mouth up. His hands squeeze at her hips, and she tugs on his jacket like she had done earlier.

“Well, I better get up inside.” She says against his lips and he hums his response as he continues to kiss her. She giggles into him. “Harry.” She smiles and steps back from him.

“Sorry, I just really like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you too.”

“When can I see you again?”

She takes her phone out to check her calendar.

“Are you free on Friday?” She asks as she furrows her brows at her screen.

“I think so. We could go to dinner, if you like. There’s this really great Chinese place in China Town that I love going to if you’re interested.”

“That sounds great, Harry.” She smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Maybe…um, maybe we could meet up for lunch, or something at some point during the week.”

“Do you have time for something like that?”

“I’m sure I do. I can look at my calendar and let you know which day works best.”

“Okay.” She nods. “I’d love to meet up for lunch.”

“Great.” He leans in to kiss her again. “Hope you and Marvin have a good night.”

“Oh, we will. He’s probably antsy for me to get up there and give him all the cuddles I can. Text me when you know which day works for lunch.” She smiles and heads inside.

Harry couldn’t believe a little dog was going to be getting all of her cuddles tonight and not him. She was slowly killing him. He respected that she might want to take things slow, but to still not invite him up? He sighs and orders an uber back to his condo, hoping he’ll be able to fall asleep easily, and not stay up thinking about the girl who was slowly creeping her way into his heart.

Abby was able to meet up with Harry on Tuesday, but only for a quick walk, which she thought would be a great opportunity for Harry to meet Marvin. She gets his sweater and harness on, leashes him up, and out the door she goes. Harry was standing outside her building, in his scrubs, and a jacket, with two hot chocolates.

“Thank you.” She smiles and takes the warm drink from him. “Harry, this is Marvin.”

“Aw.” He pouts, and squats down to put his hand in front of Marvin’s nose before he pets him. “Nice to meet you little guy.” He looks up at Abby. “He’s even cuter in person.”

“Right? I’m really excited we could get out for a little bit today. He loves when I can take him for a good walk.” Harry stands back up straight and they all start walking. “Were you in surgery today?”

“Yeah, early this morning, and I’ve got another one later this afternoon. Didn’t make much sense for me to put my other clothes back on.”

“You look cute in your scrubs.” Abby says, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

Harry nudges her and he looks down at Marvin.

“He’s pretty quiet, huh?”

“He was yappy when I first got him, but he’s calmed down a lot. First summer I had him I spent a lot of time training him. Pretty much taught him not to bark unless someone’s trying to break in.”

“You must be good with discipline then.”

“I try to be. Although, I’m more of a fan of positive reinforcement.” They pull to the side as Marvin takes a tinkle near a fire hydrant. “Good boy, Marvin.” She says and gives him a kibble as a treat. “Kibbles are great treats. Can’t get fat off what he normally eats.”

“That’s really smart. Have you, uh, been laying off the jolly ranchers?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Styles, I didn’t realize we were in your office.”

“Abby…”

“I’ve been trying to, but I have a horrible sweet tooth. They’re the only candy I really eat. What’s the harm?”

“Your teeth rotting out?”

“Okay, good point. I mean, I haven’t had nearly as many since I’m not really meeting with students right now, and I’ve already gone out and bought a ton of mints for the next semester.”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.”

“What do you say to your male patients?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s just…you say good girl a lot…do you do that with all your female patients, and if so…what do you say to your male patients? Also, I’m an adult woman. Do you say good girl to all adult women?”

“Abby.” Harry chuckles. “I think I’ve only ever said that to you.”

“Oh, fuck off, I bet you say it all the time.”

“I really don’t.”

“Then why me?”

“You’re cute, and I tend to be a flirt sometimes.”

“You consider calling me a good girl flirting?” She stops short and he turns to look at her.

“I do.” He nods, a smirk growing on his lips. “Do you want me to stop saying it to you?”

“N-no.”

“Alright then.” He grins and they continue walking until they get to Marvin’s turn around spot, and make their way back to Abby’s building. “I’m glad we got to meet up for a bit. Still on for Friday night?”

“Definitely.” She goes up on her tip toes to kiss him goodbye and inside she goes. Harry left her with butterflies in her stomach.

Harry was really hoping tonight would be the night something more happens between him and Abby. He just wanted to feel her body on his. He drives to her place around seven Friday night, and he waits outside the car for her.

“Hello, beautiful.” He says to her as she steps outside.

“Hey.” She smiles and kisses him. He opens the door for her and he jogs around the other side to get back in. He takes her hand in his as she drives towards China Town. “How was your day?”

“Good, really busy, but good. I tend to get a lot of kids on Fridays since it’s an easy day for them to miss school.”

“I bet the little kids love you.”

“They do, I like being goofy with them.” They get to the restaurant, and are seated. “Do you want to share a few things?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” She smiles. “I hardly ever come out here, how’d you find this place?”

“When I was at Tufts I used to come to China Town all the time since it’s close by. I got sick of eating at all of the same places, so I decided to come around here and branch out. This is obviously nicer, but I like it a lot.” They decide which dishes they want to share, and tell the waitress when she comes over. They both also order a couple of drinks. “The semester’s starting soon, right?”

“Yeah, on Monday, actually.”

“Oh, wow! Do you feel ready?”

“For the most part.” She nods. “The first week is usually quiet, and then I start to get booked out. That’s how it was last semester, anyways. I already have some of my regulars from last semester on my calendar for next week.”

“I bet they’re excited to see you, I know I would be.” He places his hand over hers and gives it a squeeze. “Abby, um, after dinner…I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to offer, but I don’t want to leave Marvin for that long.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Another time, though.” She smiles and he nods at that.

A food runner brings their dishes over, and luckily nothing feels awkward, but Harry was sort of hoping that she’d offer to have him over after dinner instead. They both enjoy the food, and share a few laughs before heading back to Harry’s car. When he pulls up to her place they both linger for a moment.

“Thanks again for dinner, Harry, I had a great time.”

“Me too.” He looks at her. “Can I ask you something?” She nods yes at him. “Are you, uh, seeing anyone else? It’s okay if you are, we never said this was exclusive, I guess I’d just like to know.”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone else. I would have told you if I was dating around. Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She smiles. “Good to know.” She leans across the console to kiss him, and he kisses her back. He turns his body more so he can cup her jaw. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“I…I don’t think so, I mean, just usual weekend errand type stuff. Might be grabbing drinks with some friends in the evening, why?”

“I was just thinking maybe, um, you could come over for dinner, but if you’re busy-“

“I can cancel. I can get drinks with them any time.”

“Don’t be silly.” She smiles. “We can do it another night. We’ll figure it out. I better get upstairs.” She pecks his lips. “Goodnight.” She gets out of the car, leaving him speechless. He wanted to rip his hair out at this point.

“Harry, how things going with that girl you’ve been seeing?” Greg asks him as they sit in a booth at the bar.

“Yeah, you still like her?” Lenny asks.

“Things are going well.” He nods. “But I can’t seem to figure her out. We’ve been out, like, six times and she still hasn’t invited me up to her place. I invited her back to mind last night, and she said she didn’t want to leave her dog alone for long.”

“Have you kissed?” Greg asks.

“Yeah, we’ve kissed plenty of times. We just haven’t done anything else. I mean, we don’t need to jump right into bed, but it’d be nice to do a little more.”

“I get what you’re saying, man.” Lenny says. “Maybe she’s just nervous.”

“I didn’t think I was giving her a reason to be.” Harry sighs. “She invited me over tonight, but I stupidly told her I had plans with you lot.”

“What are you doing with us then?! Go pick up some dessert, and go get your girl!” Greg says.

“I can’t just show up at her place…I’ll look like a stalker. What if she’s not even home?”

“So text her.” Lenny shrugs. “See if she’s around and ask if you can stop by. Tell her you’re at bar in the neighborhood.”

“But I’m not. She’ll know I’m lying.”

“Dude, just text her and see if she’s around.” Greg says.

Harry takes out his phone and types out a text. He hesitates before hitting send.

Harry: Hey, Abby! Are you home? I’m finishing up with my friends a bit earlier than I thought…maybe I could bring some dessert over?

Abby: Hey! Yeah, I’m home, snuggled up with Marv. I’d love it if you came by, especially if there’s dessert involved lol

Harry: Great! I can be by in about 30 minutes

Abby: sounds good! See you soon

“Alright, I’m gonna go up to the bar and get a lava cake to go. Thanks for being so cool about this guys.”

“No worries, H.” Lenny says. “Good luck.”

Harry races to Abby’s once he’s gotten the cake, and she buzzes him in. He knocks on her door, and she opens it for him.

“Hey.” She smiles and steps aside. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” He pecks her cheek. “Hope you like chocolate lava cake.”

“Love it.” She takes it from him. “So…this is it. It’s just a studio.” She blushes. “But the kitchen is its own area, which is nice.”

“It’s great.” He smiles at her. “You’ve definitely utilized the space.”

There’s a large monitor mounted on the wall, a desk underneath it with Abby’s laptop, and an HDMI cord connecting both. There’s a small couch a few feet back, and then her bed is up against the opposite wall. Everything was neat and tidy.

“I use this wireless mouse as a remote, and I have a Fire Stick.” She says. Marvin comes trotting in from the kitchen. “Marv, you remember Harry. I’m just gonna stick this in the kitchen. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.” She walks into the kitchen as Harry sits down on the couch. Marvin jumps up to sit in his lap.

“Hey, little guy.” Harry pets his head and scratches behind his ears. Abby comes back out. She looks really cute tonight. She was wearing glasses, her hair tied to the side in a braid, leggings and an off the shoulder sweater. “Hope I’m not intruding on your cozy evening.”

“Not at all! I’m really glad you texted, actually. Did you have fun with your friends?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Are they dentists too?”

“Mhm, we lived together while we were in medical school. Lenny and Greg.”

“Where do they both work?”

“At other practices around the city. Greg’s actually an orthodontist. They’re both junior partners, though, I’m the first of the three of us to become a senior partner at a practice. Guess that was the one good thing about Dr. Morgan leaving MidCity.”

“You’re so successful.” She bites her bottom lip and looks down at Marvin in Harry’s lap. “Look at that, you’re here five minutes and he already liked you better than me.” She reaches and takes Marvin from Harry, snuggling him to her chest before putting him on the ground.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Oh, I don’t. They’re just blue light blockers.” She takes them off and sets them on the side table next to the couch. “They help a lot when I’m on the computer for a while.”

“Ah.” He nods.

“What’s your place like?”

“I’ve got a condo, uh, it’s a three bedroom, but I use one as a home office.”

“Wow, good for you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t always get to live so comfortably.”

“You’ve earned it, I bet you work really hard.” She smiles.

“I’m sure you work hard too.”

“True.” She nods. “But I’m paying off loans, and this is all I can really afford.”

“It’s a great place.” He assures her. “I wish the studio I had when I first started out was half as nice as this. I certainly didn’t keep things as neat as you.”

“Oh, I just rushed around to clean things up before you got here. It was a mess.” She laughs.

“I’m glad you were cool with me coming by.” He puts his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. “I’ve been having a great time with you this last month.”

“Me too.”

“My birthday’s next weekend, and…um, a ton of us are getting together at this pub…I’d love it if you could come.”

“Oh! Sure, would it be Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m there, I’d love to go. That’s so nice of you to invite me.” She leans in and kisses his cheek.

He looks at her, his eyes locking in on her lips. He leans in and presses his lips to hers. Her arms go around his neck to pull him closer, her fingers tangling with the curls on the nape of his neck. His arms wrap around her, hands splaying on her back to have her chest pressed to his. He lightly sucks on her bottom lip, and she opens up wider for him. He nearly groans as he licks into her, finally. She tugs on his hair as her tongue molds to his. One of his hands slides down her back and around to the front of her stomach. He just about reaches the band of her leggings when she grabs his hand, and moves it to her hip. He gives a squeeze and she whimpers into him. He plants kisses along her jaw to her earlobe, nibbling on it gently until he kisses on her neck. He mouths at her skin before sucking on her and she gasps.

“Don’t leave a mark.” She grunts, and she feels him nod against her skin. “H-Harry, is this the only reason you wanted to come see me tonight?” She blurts out and he stops to look at her.

“What? No.” He shakes his head. “I genuinely wanted to see you and split that cake. And…I mean…yeah, I’ve been wanting to do a little bit of this.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I like you a lot, Abby, I can’t help it.”

“I like you a lot too.” She gives him a soft smile. “We can keep kissing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” She nods and brings her hand to the back of his neck to pull him back to her. This time she nibbles on his bottom lip and his hands go to her hips, squeezing and kneading. “Mm, but I don’t wanna go any further than this…not yet anyways. I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course it is.”

“I just…sort of wanna see where this is going before something so serious happens between us.”

“I get it.” He smiles. “I know you’ll be worth the wait.”

Harry: hope the first day of the semester has been treating you well!

Abby couldn’t help but smile at her phone. She knew Harry was extremely busy at work, so the fact that he took a moment to text her meant so much. The only thing was he texted her during a staff meeting, and her colleague Maya noticed her goofy smile.

“Abby, how was your break?” Maya asks her after the meeting.

“It was good! Um, I sort of started seeing someone.”

“Shut up! That’s amazing, who is it, how’d you meet?”

“His name is Harry…he’s, um, my dentist.”

“Oh, my, a doctor?”

“Yeah.” Abby nods. “We actually met years ago when he was still a student, and he just so happened to take over for my other dentist who apparently retired. It’s been a little over a month. He’s super nice, and funny…and he’s really fucking handsome.” She says the last part quietly.

“Good for you. Do you have a picture of him?”

“There’s one on the practice’s website. I haven’t, like, taken a selfie with yet. Although, I wish I had when he took me ice skating.” She pulls up MidCity’s website on her phone and shows Maya.

“Holy shit! He is handsome.”

“It’s going really well too. He’s met Marvin, and he invited me to his birthday party this weekend.”

“Wow, so you’re gonna get to meet his friends already?”

“I guess so.” She smiles. “The only thing is…do I get him a gift? And if so, what do I get him? I feel like it should be casual because everything’s so new still, but if it’s too casual he might think I’m not as into him as I am.”

“Shit, yeah, that’s a tough one.” Maya steps further into Abby’s office. The girls were close, so they were used to talking about personal things. “Have you slept with him yet? You could wear something for him to unwrap.”

“No, we haven’t.” Abby sighs. “I’m trying to take things slow with him because I really like him. We’ve made out a couple of times…”

“So…is that a no?”

“I don’t know, birthday sex as a gift? I feel like that’s so…cliché or something? Plus, I feel like he’ll be expecting it. I want it to feel more special than that.” She bites her bottom lip in thought.

“Oh! Have you been out to eat with him much?”

“Yeah, a ton, why?”

“Did you notice him order any specific types of alcohol?”

“Yeah! On our first real date he had this really nice bottle of white wine ordered to our table. It was delicious, and he loved it. I remember what it was, I could just get a bottle of that and a card, right?”

“I think that’s a totally acceptable gift. It’s sentimental, so it shows you put some thought into it, but also casual enough to show you’re not a psycho.”

“Exactly.”

Abby: you’re so sweet! It’s been a little busy with meetings and stuff, but other than that no fires to put out. Thanks so much for thinking of me, I hope you’re having a good day too! 😘

Harry didn’t want Abby to walk into the pub by herself, so he said he’d pick her up on his way. She insisted he didn’t need to, but he insisted that he did. She had a black dress on with black tights and blue heels. She zips up her long coat and runs her fingers through her hair. Her phone buzzes with a text from Harry that he’s downstairs with the uber. She takes a deep breath, grabs her gift, and heads downstairs.

“Happy birthday.” She smiles and gives him a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, beautiful.” He opens the door for her and goes around to the other side. “Is that for me?” He points to the bag she’s settled into her lap.

“Maybe.” She shrugs a shoulder.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He places his hand on her thigh.

“I said maybe, so this could easily not be for you. I guess you’ll find out later.” She side eyes him and it makes him laugh.

“How was your first week back to campus?”

“Exhausting.” She sighs. “But I caught up on sleep this morning. Everyone was excited to see Marvin.” She chuckles. “And it was good to see my friends and students.”

“That’s good.” Harry smiles.

“What about you? How was your week?”

“Busy. I had four different surgeries, a ton of cavities, and a fuck ton of cleaning check ins. I think a lot of college kids were getting in their bi-annual visits before going back to school.”

“Ohhh, yup, I bet that’s what it was. Is there ever a time of year you’re super busy?”

“I would say summers I do a lot of wisdom teeth removals, so I get bogged down there. Everything’s pretty consistent, though.”

“So, who’s going to be at this party?”

“My friends Greg and Lenny, who are very excited to meet you.” Harry smiles and gives Abby’s thigh a squeeze. “Some people from work, you know Marie, and Dr. Morgan’s going to be there as well. Some other med school buddies will be there. I’m only thirty-two it’s not really a big deal.” He shrugs.

“I’m excited to meet your friends too.” She smiles. “And it’ll be good that I’ll know a couple of people so you won’t feel like you have to babysit me.”

“Aw, babe, I wouldn’t feel like that. I wouldn’t leave your side if that’s what you wanted, no worries.”

She nods and smiles nervously at him. He just called her ‘babe’ and it filled her tummy with butterflies. The driver pulls up in front of the pub, and Harry gets out first so he can open Abby’s door. She smiles at him as he puts his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside.

“There he is!” Greg exclaims. “Happy birthday, H!” The two hug.

“Thanks, mate, this is Abby. Abby, this is Greg.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She says to him.

“Same to you, you’re even lovelier than Harry described.”

Abby giggles at that, and Harry leads her over to the coat room. It seems the whole pub had been rented out for his party. There was a small table for gifts, so she sets hers down.

“Wow, you look amazing.” Harry says, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“Thanks.” She smiles and leans in to peck his lips. “Wanna introduce me to some other people?”

“Yeah, come on.” He takes her hand and leads her back to everyone.

Abby gets introduced to Lenny, and some of Harry’s other doctor friends. She then gives Dr. Morgan a big hug, and she says hello to Marie and her wife. Harry gets Abby a glass of wine, and much to her surprise, he keeps his arm hooked around her waist for most of the evening. He clearly wanted her close by. His friends were kind, not at all arrogant, which was a tad unexpected since there were a lot of people with deep pockets in the room. Maybe doctors weren’t as snotty because they also had large student loan debts. They engaged her in conversation, asking about her work, and why the heck she wanted to spend her time with Harry, which made a lot of people laugh. Harry lit up when he was explaining how he and Abby actually met ears ago, and he talked about the card she had sent along to him, making her blush a bit. Everyone found the story to be quite endearing.

“Are you having a good time?” Harry asks Abby as they go up to the bar together.

“I am, your friends are great. Are you? It’s your birthday.”

“I’m having a wonderful time, even more so since you’re here.” He kisses her cheek and hands her a new glass of wine.

A tray of cupcakes is brought out, and everyone sings happy birthday to Harry. He blows out a few candles and thanks everyone for coming. The cupcakes were delicious, clearly from a nice bakery. Harry notices Abby getting a little bit of frosting on the corner of her mouth, and before she can grab a napkin, he’s catching it with his thumb and sucking it into his mouth. Her eyes widen as he winks at her.

“Th-thank you.” She says, clearing her throat.

“Don’t mention it.” He pecks her lips. “I was wondering something…”

“What is it?”

“Would you like to come home with me tonight? I thought it would be nice to spend some time alone after being so social.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I’d like that.” She nods.

“Will Marvin be alright without you?”

“Yeah, my, um, neighbor’s kid is actually watching him tonight. She’s a great pet sitter. I…I told her I may not be coming home tonight, so she’s fully prepared for a sleepover.”

Harry’s smile grows, and he kisses her again. After making the rounds to say goodbye to everyone, getting their coats, gathering all of the gifts, the two get into an uber to head to Harry’s condo. There’s a doorman that says hello to Harry and gives Abby a warm smile. She follows him through the lobby to the elevators. They step inside, and Harry hits a number on one of the higher floors. He leads her to his door, and he gets it open. She follows him into his living area, and they set his gifts down. He takes her coat for her, and hangs it up in his front closet.

“This is…a really nice place.” She says as she looks around.

“I’ll give you the full tour in a moment, I’ve been dying to open your gift all night.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “It’s really nothing special.”

He gives her an unconvinced look, and grabs the bag he remembers her bringing. They both sit down on the coach, and she watches him reach inside.

“A card, classic.” He smirks and sets it aside. He reaches back inside and pulls out the bottle of wine. “This is one of my favorites! How did you know?”

“I remember you ordering it when we went to that Italian place.” She smiles and he hugs her.

“Mind if I open it, or have you had enough for the night?”

“I’d love some.”

“Great! Just hang tight.”

Harry goes into the kitchen with the bottle. While she’s waiting patiently on the couch, Abby hears music come on. She sees a Bluetooth speaker light up, he must have turned it on from his phone. He comes out with two glasses of wine, and hands her one as he sits back down.

“Thank you.” She says as she takes a sip.

“No, thank you. This was really nice of you. You’ve got a great memory.” He takes a sip and sets the glass down on a coaster on his coffee table. She does the same. “My friends adored you, by the way. I’ve already got the texts to prove it.”

“I’m glad I made such a good first impression.” She inches closer to him.

He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear, and he leans in to kiss her. She wraps her arms around his neck, and opens her mouth for him. One of his hands falls to her thigh as the other one cups her cheek. Her fingers work their way into his hair, and he squeezes her hip.

“Abby.” He breathes, and moves to kiss on her neck, just under her earlobe.

She lets her heels fall off as she pushes him back farther on the couch. She moves to straddle one of his thighs, and she brings her lips back to his. His hands move up and down her back until they reach just above her bum. She grabs his hands and moves them down to her ass. He groans into her as he squeezes, loving how plump she is. She kisses along his jaw and to his neck, and she rolls her hips down onto his thigh. He raises it to help press into her. She whimpers into his neck, and he cups her cheeks so she’ll at him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bedroom?” He asks softly.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.”

“I didn’t think you did.” He smirks.

“No, I just…I mean, if we go in there…that’s all I’ll want to do.”

“Sleep?” She nods her head yes. “Oh.”

“Harry, I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I know it’s your birthday, and you were probably hoping for some…stuff to go down between us, but I think we should wait a little longer. Is that okay?”

“Abby, I wasn’t expecting us to do anything. I mean, if we had of course it would have been nice, but it’s okay.” He assures her. “I’m just happy you wanted to come back with me.”

She leans back in to kiss him, and they continue to grope each other as they kiss. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she continues to rock back and forth on his thigh. She lets him puts his hands on her breasts, and he kneads them through her dress. He moves her to lay down on the couch and he settles himself between her legs as he hovers over her. He kisses on the tops of her breasts that were now spilling out of her dress. He sucks and bites on the plushier areas, eliciting a moan from her.

“H-Harry, maybe we should cool it before you turn me into a leopard.”

He chuckles against her and pecks her lips before he sits up.

“Would you spend the night?”

“I’d love to.”

He helps her up off the couch and leads her to the bedroom. He flips the switch for the lights, and her eyes widen. His bedroom was neat, almost a little too neat. She raises a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“I…um, have a housekeeper.” He clears his throat. “Let me just grab a few things for you. I’m assuming you’ll want something to sleep in?”

“Please.” She chuckles, watching him move to his dresser for a tee shirt and pajama bottoms.

She follows him into his en suite as he opens the closet inside to look for a spare washcloth and toothbrush. He sets everything down on his double vanity and smiles at her.

“Use whatever you need, beautiful.” He kisses her cheek and steps out to give her some privacy.

Abby strips herself of her clothes, and then washes her face. She brushes her teeth, runs her fingers through her hair, and then puts on the clothes Harry set aside for her. They were so soft and smelled just like him. She sighs happily and makes her way back into his bedroom. He smiles at her and stands up from the bed.

“Get comfortable, I’m just gonna do my thing.” He tells her and she nods. “There’s a spare phone charger on that side of the bed if you need it.” He points to the right side and she smiles.

When he’s done in the bathroom he comes out in a pair of plaid bottoms, but he’s gotten rid of his shirt altogether. He was littered with tattoos which really surprised her. She thought he only had the one little cross on his hand.

“When did you get all of those?” She asks as he gets into bed with her.

“All of what? Oh! My tattoos? Years and years ago, when I was a stupid teenager.” He chuckles. “Haven’t added to the collection in a while.” He looks down at himself. “Do you, uh, not like tattoos?”

“No! I think they’re really cool.” She furrows her brows as she scans his chest. “They’re so interesting.”

“Thanks.” He smirks.

“Did they hurt?”

“Some more than others. You sort of get used to it after a while. I’m assuming you don’t have any?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Just a few piercings.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “Got my cartilage, and three holes in each lobe.”

“Noticed those, I love the earrings you wear.”

“And…” She pulls the blankets back a bit and pulls the shirt she’s wearing up slightly to reveal her belly button. “Got this done when I was twenty-two. I always wanted one and said fuck it.”

“It’s cute.” He smiles as he admire the jewel attached to her naval. “Now that had to have hurt.” He says as she puts her shirt back down.

“It honestly wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was just a little pinch, the guy took really good care of me. I was a little light headed after, and it was sore for a few days, but other than that it was fine.”

They stay up talking for a bit until they eventually fall asleep. Abby had moves to rest her head on Harry’s chest, and that’s how she fell asleep, to the smooth rhythm of his heartbeat. Harry couldn’t remember the last time someone spent the night in his bed and it didn’t involve sex, there was something sort of sweet about not doing anything and still be able to fall asleep together comfortably. Maybe there was something to this taking it slow thing.

The next morning, Abby woke up being spooned by Harry. His breath was fanning over the back of her neck, and he had a leg between hers. His arm was strung across her lower stomach lazily. She grabs her phone and sees that it’s about 8:30. She yawns and wiggles a bit to adjust herself. She feels his lips press a kiss into the back of her neck and his arm tightens around her stomach.

“You awake, darling?” He coos and it nearly makes her melt.

“Mhm.” It’s all she can manage to say.

“Good morning then.” He kisses the back of her neck again.

“Good morning.” She rolls over to her other side to look at him and he gives her a sleep smile. He leans into peck her nose, and he rubs at her side.

“Sleep alright?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“Mhm.” He nods. “I’m gonna wash up and then make us some breakfast, how does that sound?”

“Sounds amazing, Harry.”

He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. When he comes out he’s thrown a shirt on, and Abby gets up to freshen up herself. She washes her face and brushes her teeth, putting her bra on under the shirt he had given her so she wasn’t putting on a show for him. She comes out to his kitchen and smells fresh coffee. She wanted to roll her eyes as she saw him using a French press.

“Hope you like hazelnut, it’s the only flavor I’ve got.”

“It’s perfect. Got any creamer?”

“Mhm, in the fridge.” He points to it and she opens it up, grabbing the creamer on the top shelf. It was pretty much full.

“I don’t use it myself, mostly keep it for guests.” He pours the coffee into two mugs.

“Ah, and do you have guests often?”

“None that I’d want to have a sleepover with, if that’s what you’re asking.” He kisses her cheek, and she pours the creamer into her coffee. “Now, what can I make you? What do you like for breakfast?”

“Oh, nothing fancy.” She shrugs. “Whatever you feel like making is fine.”

“Eggs and toast?”

“Works for me. Can I help?”

“You can help by just having a seat.”

Abby smiles and sits down on one of the stools at Harry’s kitchen island while he works to get the eggs out of the fridge. He ends up making scrambled eggs for the two of them to keep things quick. It was a pleasant breakfast. Abby thought it was cute that Harry genuinely read from the morning newspaper. She was resting her chin on her palm watching him.

“Anything interesting going on?” She asks him.

“Nah, it’s all negative.” He sighs as he flips a page.

“Could I have the funnies?”

“Sure!” Harry finds the chunk with the comics and slides it over to her.

“Thanks, I used to look forward to this every Sunday when my dad would pick up The Globe.”

“What was your favorite?”

“There was this one called Opus. There were all these different characters, and the story was pretty linear, which I thought was cool. I actually saved the last comic strip in a scrap book. The main characters, Opus the penguin, had gone missing or something and he was trying to find himself. It really tugged at my heartstrings.”

“Sometimes I forget not all of the funnies are just for kids.”

“I’m also partial to Family Circus, and I loved Zits.”

Harry smiles and goes back to reading the paper. He liked going over the sports and arts sections most. Abby helps him clean up the dishes and then she goes to get dressed.

“Do you want some sweat pants to wear so you don’t have to put all of that back on?”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just gonna put the dress on.”

“Won’t you be cold without the stockings?”

“I’ll be alright, but thanks.”

“Let me at list drive you home.”

“Okay.” She nods.

The ride was comfortably quiet as Harry kept his hand in Abby’s. He pulls over to the side to stop in front of her building, and they look at each other. Smiles grow on both of their faces.

“You already know what I’m going to ask.” He says to her.

“I know, but I wanna hear you say it.”

“Alright, when can I see you next?”

“Hmm…what about Tuesday night? We could go to a movie. Tickets are cheaper on Tuesdays so we can splurge on snacks.”

“I like the way you think. I’d love to go to a movie. You pick, and just tell me what time I need to meet you.”

“Sounds good.” She leans in to peck his lips. “Talk to you soon.” She gets out of the car and heads up to her apartment. Chrissy, the teenager watching Marvin, was sitting on her couch watching TV. “Hey, Chrissy. I already paid you on Venmo.”

“I saw! Thanks so much.” She stands up.

“Thanks for watching him all night.” Abby scoops up Marvin and cuddles him to her chest. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all, he was great. He was my little study buddy.”

“Perfect. Well, enjoy your Sunday. Tell your parents thanks too.”

“I will, have a good day.” Chrissy heads out and Abby sets Marvin back down.

“Alright, Mumma’s gonna take a shower and then she’ll take you for a nice, long walk, sound good?” Marvin yips excitedly at her. “S’what I thought.”

Harry was fucked. He was running late and couldn’t get to a phone because he was in the middle of a surgery. Of course the one time there’s a few delays and complications he actually has somewhere to be. He was supposed to meet Abby at 6:45PM, it was already 6:30, there was no way in hell he was going to make it. He did his best to stay focused so he could do right by his patient. By the time he was done it was 7:45PM. He tried to call Abby, but her phone went right to voicemail.”

“Shit.” He says to himself.

“Dr. Styles.” Marie says. “You should change, you’re still scrubbed up and you have blood on you. Go home and shower, she’ll understand.”

“I just wish she’d turn her phone on…”

“Maybe she went to the movie alone.” Marie shrugs. “She could be one of those good people who actually turns their phone off.”

“Right, yeah. I’m gonna freshen up here, and then I’m gonna try to catch her outside the theater.”

Harry does just that, using the hospital locker room to have a quick shower. He rushes to the movie theater and waits outside. The movie they were supposed to see should be wrapping up any moment, so he goes into the lobby to watch for her. Hopefully she was actually there.

Abby throws out her trash and walks towards the main lobby. She was just turning her phone back on when she saw Harry standing there with a very apologetic look on his face. She sighs and walks over to him.

“I’m so sorry.” He starts. “I tried calling as soon as I could, but your phone went right to voicemail.”

“I turned it off when the previews started.” She chews on her bottom lip. “What happened?”

“My last surgery of the day got delayed, and then there were some complications…everything’s fine now, but it wasn’t an easy extraction. I had to really take my time, I’m so sorry. I swear this won’t happen a lot.” He looks down at his shoes and then back to her. “Was it a good movie at least?”

“It was alright.” She sighs. “Would have been better if I had someone to make comments to.” She nudges his shoulder.

“How can I make it up to you? Are you hungry? We could-“

“I already ate, it’s okay. I know you didn’t do anything on purpose. It’s getting late, so I’m just going to head home.”

“I feel terrible.”

“Don’t.” She smiles. “Shit happens.”

“Let me at least take you home, I drove here.”

“Sure.” She takes his hand in hers as they walk out of the theater. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved, actually, but I can just eat when I get home.”

“Don’t be silly, I have leftovers. You can come up and eat if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

Once they’re up in her apartment, Harry plays with Marvin while Abby heats up her leftover stir fry and rice. She hands Harry the warm bowl and they both sit down at the small table she has in her kitchen.

“Is it hot enough?” She asks him.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” He eats a little and then looks at her. “I really do feel terrible that you waited and had to sit alone…”

“It’s really okay. It’s not my first time going to the movies by myself.” She shrugs. “I’m pretty independent.”

“I just don’t want you thinking this is something that’s going to happen a lot. It’s so rare for a surgery like this to not be timely.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’s really sweet you still showed up at the theater like you did. We’re together now, that’s all that really matters.”

Harry finishes eating and cleans up his bowl. He stands with his hands in his pockets by the door and she stands with her arms crossed. Neither were sure what to do. It was really too late to hang out any longer since they both needed to work the next day.

“Are you free Friday night?” He asks her. “We could go to dinner if you like.”

“Sure, that sounds nice. Wanna say seven?”

“Works for me. I’ll pick you up then.” He caresses her cheek and kisses her. They both linger for a moment before letting go. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She sighs after he leaves. It sucked being at the movies alone, but it meant the world to her that he still showed up at the end. It really showed his character, and for that she was grateful. She was still trying to gauge what kind of guy Harry was, and she had finally come to the conclusion that he was a good one.

“Two months and still nothing?” Greg asks Harry one Sunday evening as he and Lenny came over to watch the hockey game.

“Yeah.” Harry sighs as he sips on his beer. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love kissing her and, and she’s let me touch her over her clothes, but…I don’t know, she’s not as desperate and grabby as I am. What if she’s just not as into me?”

“I don’t think she’d be seeing you still if she wasn’t into you.” Lenny says. “How old is she again?”

“Twenty-six, why?”

“Well, maybe she’s hoping for things to be a little more official before she goes all the way with you.”

“Define official.” Harry mutters.

“Maybe she wants to know if you’re her boyfriend.” Lenny states.

“God, do you really think she’s hung up on some stupid label? We’re dating, we’re together, I think that’s pretty clear.”

“Remember when I dated that younger girl? She was, like, twenty-three?” Greg says and the guys both nod. “Well, she wanted to know what the status was after a few months. Obviously it didn’t work out because of the age difference, but these things matter to the younger women. They wanna know what to refer to you. Boyfriend is a lot easier to say than having to say the guy I’m seeing.”

“So, you have to ask yourself, do you want to be Abby’s boyfriend?” Lenny asks him. “If you don’t see things working out long term with her you should break it off.”

“I definitely don’t want to break it off. I really like her, and I like spending time with her.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m going to her place on Thursday for dinner, maybe we can talk about it then.”

“Yeah? She cooking for you again?” Greg asks.

“Mhm.” Harry smiles. “She really likes cooking for me, I don’t know why. I don’t mind it, she always makes something delicious.”

“Do you ever cook for her?” Lenny asks.

“Sure.” Harry shrugs. “We take turns.”

“That’s good, those things should definitely go both ways.” Greg says. “I bet you she just wants to make sure you’re not going to up and leave the second she lets you hit it.”

“I don’t know why she’d even think I’d do something like that…”

“Maybe she’s been burned in the past.” Lenny shrugs. “Have you had the ex talk?”

“No.” Harry shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem like something we’ve needed to talk about…but maybe we do.”

Thursday night Harry goes over to Abby’s with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolate chip cookies. He liked bringing dessert the times she made dinner for him.

“Hey.” She smiles and kisses him once he’s inside. She must’ve had a long day at work because she was still in her work clothes. Most times when Harry came over she had already changed into comfier clothes. “How was your day?”

“It was good, how about yours?” He hands her the wine and cookies and follows her into the kitchen.

“Long.” She sighs. “I had some heavier appointments today.” She blinks a few times. “I…I cried with a student today.” She looks at him, tearing up.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry, come here.” He opens his arms for her and she’s comforted by his embrace. He rests his chin on the top of her head. “Are you allowed to tell me what happened?”

“Yeah.” She sniffles and looks up at him. “This male student…he had a rough go of it in high school. A teacher…molested him, and it was this whole thing. He’s from a small town in Vermont so everyone knew. He came here to get away from it, you know? Make a fresh start? He’s started to see this girl that he really likes, and he’s petrified of her finding out, and he’s not sure if he should just tell her or if he should keep it to himself. But he’s afraid she might find out anyways somehow. I felt terrible. I mean, what kind of sick fuck uses their position of power over a kid like that, you know?”

“That’s…awful, beyond awful.” Harry frowns down at Abby.

“I just couldn’t keep it together, especially when he started crying, so I cried too. Then we both started laughing, and he was able to calm down and we talked about things more.” She steps back from Harry and wipes under eyes.

“I guess the upside is that you created such a welcoming environment that he felt safe enough to be so vulnerable with you.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I suppose that’s a silver lining, thanks.” She smiles. “Anyways, we’re going to meet bi-weekly now just for little check ins.” She sighs and moves to stir the pot of pasta that’s on the stove. “I’m making pasta and meat sauce, hope that’s alright.”

“It’s great, Abby. Can I do anything?”

“No, everything’s just about done. Um, would you actually mind taking Marv out quickly for me? He just ate and I haven’t had a chance to take him out to do his business.”

“You got it.”

It wasn’t Harry’s first time taking Marvin out, so he really didn’t mind. He leashes him up and takes him down to the street. Marvin does his business, and Harry gets him back upstairs. By the time he comes back, Abby’s plated up dinner, and gotten the wine open and poured.

“Thank you.” She says to him, and leans down to pat Marvin’s head. “Ready to eat?”

“Mhm, thank you for cooking.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” She smiles. “I like when we get to have dinner together.”

“Me too, babe.” He takes a bite of food and moans. “This is amazing, Ab.”

“Thanks.” She blushes and takes a sip of her wine. “Harry, um, there’s something I…well…I’m just gonna come right out and say it.” She takes a deep breath as he looks at her. “Am I…am I your girlfriend?”

Harry’s concerned face softens into a smile.

“I’d like you to be.” He says to her. “I was actually going to bring this up tonight, guess you beat me to it.”

“Oh.” She says, a little surprised. “Well, good, okay.” She nods and takes a bite of food.

“I like you a lot, and I know it’s been a couple of months. I’m still having a great time with you.”

“Same here!” She assures him. “I just, you know, I don’t know what to tell my friends sometimes when they ask about you.”

“Well, now you can tell them about your boyfriend, yeah?” He smirks. “When do I get to meet these friends, hm? You’ve met all of mine.”

“That’s true.” She chews her bottom lip. “Well, I could arrange for a night out at a bar some weekend. We all love going out to dance and stuff…”

“Sounds like fun.”

“You’d be into something like that?”

“Sure, why not?”

“You just don’t exactly seem like the type of person who would enjoy going to a stuffy club with a ton of drunk people.”

“Hey, I know how to hang. Set it up and I’ll be there.”

“Great, I’ll text them.” She smiles, her body was buzzing with excitement. Harry stands up abruptly and comes over to her side of the table, cupping her jaw. He slots his lips over hers, sucking on her bottom lip and then letting her go before he sits back down. “Wh-what was that for?”

“Just wanted to give my girlfriend a kiss.” He shrugs, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Oh.” Her face had to be beat red at this point. They look at each other and smile. This time it’s Abby who decides to be bold. She gets up and sits on his lap side saddle. She grabs her phone and opens up SnapChat because it was better for taking selfies.

“What are you doing?”

“We hardly have any pictures together. Now that you’re my boyfriend that’s going to change. Smile.” She says to him, and he does as she says, taking a very cute picture.

“Send that to me?”

Abby presses her lips to his. Getting through dinner was going to take a little longer tonight.

Harry could, in fact, not hang. It was midnight and he was fighting to stay awake. He wished Abby had planned their big night out with her friends for a Saturday not Friday. It was a long week, and Harry just wanted to go to bed. He thought her friends were interesting. There was Billy, Abby’s absolute best friend. Billy happens to be trans, which Harry didn’t care about at all because Billy’s life was none of his business. Then there was Amy and Gina, Abby’s roommates from undergrad. They were all getting along fine, but the club was loud, packed, and sticky. Abby was having a good time, though, so what could he do?

“Another drink, Harry? Next round’s on me.” Billy says to him.

“Oh, no thank you. Think I’m gonna cool it.”

“Cool it?” Amy scoffs. “The night just started. Ab, hold old did you say he was again?”

“Don’t tease him.” Abby hooks an arm around Harry’s waist. “He’s thirty-two, a doctor, and he had a long week.” She looks up at him. “You’ve last two hours, go home if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She puckers her lips and he kisses her.

“It was really nice meeting all of you. We’ll have to do it again sometime…maybe on a night I didn’t have two different surgeries.” He kisses Abby again. “Text me when you get home so I know you got back safe?”

“Will do, bye, babe!” Harry heads out, and Abby looks back at her friends. “He’s cute, right?”

“Very.” Gina says. “He seemed like he was having fun at the beginning.”

“He’s just tired.” Abby sighs. “We should have waited until tomorrow. He really is a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure he is.” Billy says with a smile. “So, you really haven’t slept with him yet?”

“No.” Abby shakes her head.

“What’s the hold up?” Amy asks.

“I just haven’t felt ready.” Abby shrugs. “He’s a really good kisser, though, so I know I’m close to getting there with him.”

“You haven’t even sucked his dick?” Gina asks.

“No, but I’ve felt it. We grind on each other a lot. But I always have us stop before it gets to be too much.”

“I’ve literally never known you to not want to fuck a guy you’ve been seeing.” Billy says.

“I know…I just…it all just feels like a dream come true still, and I’m afraid that once we do it something will go wrong and we’ll stop seeing each other. I have no idea why I feel like that, but I do.” Abby says.

“He’d be an idiot to let you go.” Amy says. “Do it when you’re ready, but I think I speak for the three of us when I say we approve of him.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” The four share a group hug and go back out to the dancefloor to enjoy the rest of their night.

It was a rainy Saturday at the beginning of April. Harry told Abby to bring Marvin over to his place so they could get cozy for a lazy day of watching movies and being cozy. She happily accepted. The two of them really needed a day to relax. Abby was booked solid at work right now, and Harry was starting to get booked out with more and more wisdom teeth appointments. Harry liked when Abby would bring Marvin over. He had gotten a little dog bed for him and some toys. Harry even got him a little food and water bowl.

Abby was really falling for Harry. He made her feel safe, and he was beyond considerate. She also couldn’t believe how patient he was being. They were together three months, just entering the fourth, and they still hadn’t had sex yet. She knew he wanted it, of course, and she really wanted it too.

They were curled up on the couch together while Marvin was snoozing on his little dig bed. Neither had ever watched The Mindy Project before so they were binging it. Abby couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but she couldn’t help from blurting it out.

“Harry?” She looks up at him.

“Yeah?” He looks down at her.

“I…I love you.” His eyes widen as he looks at her, his mouth falling open. “Oh my god, it’s too soon, right? I…I…I…” Before she can ramble on anymore, he’s kissing her, hard.

“Christ, Abby.” He presses his forehead to hers. “I love you too.” He kisses her again.

“Really?”

“Of course I do. You couldn’t tell? I’ve got your picture framed on my night table, and I’ve got all this stuff here for Marvin, and I keep your favorite snacks in the pantry…”

She moves to straddle him, pushing his shoulders back into the couch. She slots her mouth over his, and he holds her close to him. She sucks on his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Harry, bring me to your bedroom, now.”

“Y-you wanna go to sleep?” He looks at her confused.

“No, I want you to fuck me.” She looks at him with dark eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

He doesn’t question her again. Instead, he lifts her up and quickly carries her down the hall to his bedroom. He gets her on the bed, hovers over her, and starts by getting her shirt off. His eyes widen when he sees the lace bra she was wearing. He furrows his brows as he gets her leggings off. He glares at her when he sees that her panties match her bra.

“What is it?” She asks innocently.

“There’s this old saying that goes along the lines of if the girl’s wearing matching underwear, then she’s the one who decided to have sex.” Abby blinks at him. “Were you planning for this tonight?”

“I was hoping.” She sits up on her elbows. “I…I’ve been fucked over before, and I really wanted to make sure I knew how we felt about each other before we did this. I’m sorry that I made us wait so long.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” He caresses her cheek. “I’ll admit I was a little frustrated in the beginning, but…I’m sort of glad we waited. It’ll be more special now.”

“Exactly!” She beams at him. “Can…can we get back to it now?”

He chuckles and takes his shirt off and pants off. He hovers over her and kisses on her neck and chest. He reaches behind her to unhook her bra, and tugs it away. His lips wrap around one of her nipples, and he licks around it. He sucks on her, and it makes her moan. He licks over to her other breast, and sucks on her other nipple. She pushes his head closer to her chest and tugs at his hair. He kisses and nips his way down her soft tummy. She lifts her hips as he tugs her panties off. He opens her legs and sucks a bruise into her thigh. She gasps at that and groans. He licks a flat stripe up her slit and to her clit. He does this a few times, just to get a good taste of her.

He looks up at her as his tongue flicks back and forth on her clit. He presses a hand on her pelvis and pushes up so he can see her better. He sucks on her clit and she moans out. His fingers work around her folds, feeling her wetness, and then he slides his middle finger in. He gets his ring finger in as well, and starts to pump in and out of her. He moans into her as his hips rut against the bed. She grabs at his hair as his fingers start to rub against her front wall. Abby starts panting and breathing heavier.

“Fuck, Harry, please don’t stop!”

He groans into her as his answer, and keeps doing everything exactly the same to help get her there. Her hips move along with his face, and her body starts to feel warm all over. She cries out as she comes to her release. He retracts his fingers, and he sucks on her wet center before sitting up. She catches her breath and smiles at him. He smiles at her and gets his boxers off. She whimpers when she looks at his hard dick. She crawls towards him and wraps her hand around him. She kisses his tip and wraps her lips around him.

“God, I’ve been dreaming about this.” He groans as his head rolls back while she starts to bob up and down on him. She goes down enough to choke on him, and then she pulls off. “Do you want me to use a condom?”

“No, I’m on the pill. I wanna feel you.”

He nods and gets back onto the bed with her. She opens her legs back up for him, and he rubs the head of his cock along her folds and clit. Her hips press up towards him in anticipation. He slowly presses into her, and her mouth falls open.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” He grunts as he bottoms out.

“Move.” She tells him. “Move, Harry.” She whines, and he starts to rock in and out of her. She clutches at his biceps and digs her nails in. “Oh my god.” She moans.

“Feels good?”

“Feels amazing.” She bites her bottom lip. “Go harder.”

“Yeah, want me to fuck you hard?”

“Fuck, yeah, really give it to me.”

He gives her a wicked grin, and then pulls out of her. He flips her onto her stomach and slides back in. He grips the back of her neck, and his other hand rests at the base of her spine. He takes a deep breath, pulls out almost all the way, and then snaps his hips back into her. She gasps, and he does it again. He smacks her ass, and continues to fuck into her hard. The hand at the base of her spine slides around to her clit and he rubs it. It doesn’t take her long to lose it again. He pulls out and sits up against his headboard. Abby sinks down on him as he grips her hips. They move in sync together as she rides him. She licks into his mouth and they both moan. His hands grab all over her body, unsure of where he liked squeezing the most. He fondles her breasts for a bit before deciding to stick with her ass.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Abby.” He says as he kisses on her neck. “I want you to come for me again.” He snakes a hand between them so he can rub her clit again.

“Fuck, yes, oh my god, Harry!” She grinds faster on him. “I want you to come inside me.”

“Shit, fuck.” He moans out and they come at the same time. “Fuck, Abby.” He breathes and kisses her, sucking on her bottom lip. Her fingers tangle back into his hair.

“Was it, um, worth the wait?”

“Oh my god, of course it was. I wanna fuck you over and over.” He smirks at her and she giggles.

“I think that can be arranged.” She pecks his lips. “Would you ever want to, um, tie me to the bed?”

“Oh, baby, if I didn’t love you before.”

#sweet tooth #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x oc #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #dentist!harry #dentistrry #harry styles oc #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

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makoodlesarchive · 4 years

Text

bad dragon

here i am delivering content that NO ONE ASKED FOR !! this is nasty and i got super embarrassed just writing it but i hope you enjoy it anyway

honestly no one look at me, just let me indulge in this in peace

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: blowjobs, penetrative sex, virgin kirishima, lots of cum (like, a ridiculous amount), breeding (kinda), size kink?. it’s not exactly anthro bc everyone is human here but uhh non-standard genitals, i guess? kirishima has an unusual dick: pls see here for reference OR check out the amazing fanart for kiri’s dick !!

Tip Jar!

dragon dick kiri masterlist!

»»————-　♡　————-««

Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated.

The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

Whenever the two of you ended up in bed together, with the door firmly locked behind you, Kirishima insisted on sliding under the blankets and eating you out so enthusiastically he had your legs shaking in no time. It’s not like you would ever complain about that, but it definitely bothered you that he was never up for doing anything else. You would see the blanket shifting around as he jerked himself off furiously under the sheets as he tongue-fucked you, but whenever you tried to coax him out from beneath the sheets you were turned down with a soft, apologetic little smile.

You figured it must have something to do with his apparent commitment issues. Everytime you brought up the possibility of being a couple, or anything more than what you currently were (which, tragically, was nothing; just two friends occasionally getting hot and heavy) he brushed you off or changed the subject with a beautifully sunny smile and a laugh, so bright and cheery that you were successfully diverted every single time.

And it was fine, really. You liked Kirishima a lot, so you were totally willing to put up with a few odd idiosyncrasies. And okay, sure, if you were being totally honest with yourself, of course you wanted to be more than friends that flirt and kiss and mess around a bit. You couldn’t even technically call each other fuck buddies because he wouldn’t fuck you. But he was so sweet, and so handsome and kind and his tongue was so so good, that you would take whatever you could get from him.

At least, that was until one afternoon.

April had brought with it blue skies and sun showers and warm breezes, and as the weather begins to improve your friends take to lounging out the front of the apartment complex. After graduating, renting places in the same neighbourhood just seemed like the next logical step. On days like this, where you all come together just to chill out in front of the complex, it seems like the best idea in the world. As you watch Kirishima chase Kaminari around the lawn, the two of them howling with laughter, something a little wistful twists in your stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, easy enough to shove away normally, but today for some reason you just feel… melancholy.

Maybe that’s why you do something you would never normally do. You turn to Bakugou, who’s aggressively chewing on candy as though it insulted his mother, and say, “Hey, um. Does Kirishima… does Kirishima ever talk about me?”

Bakugou’s jaw stills, and he turns his head very slowly to look at you. He looks mildly disbelieving, which is understandable. The two of you get along just fine, but you’ve never asked him anything personal before. “Why the fuck are you asking me that?” he demands through a mouthful of half-chewed toffee.

You shrug jerkily, suddenly mortified. Why are you asking something like that of Bakugou, of all people? “Never mind.” you say quickly, praying that he’ll just let it go and you can both move on and forget that you had ever asked such an embarrassing question.

A silence stretches between the two of you, long and taut, broken only by Mina giggling as she shows Sero something on her phone a few metres away. You could curse yourself for making things awkward between the two of you when you had been on relatively good terms, but then Bakugou turns to look at you so abruptly that you startle a little. “Look,” he says, jaw working absently as he chews his candy. “He likes you just fine, okay. Why aren’t you having this conversation with him, huh?”

You can’t quite meet Bakugou’s eyes. You don’t know how he can be so forthright all the time. “Um. I’ve tried, but he always changes the subject.”

Bakugou swears softly, glaring out across the lawn at Kirishima as he chases Kaminari, throwing grapes at his back. “I ain’t a relationship counsellor, okay? I get that it must be hard that he doesn’t cum when he’s with you or whatever, but you seriously need to work that out with him. What am I meant to do about it?”

“Right,” you wince, your body hot with embarrassment. Your mind sticks on something he just said though, and you turn back slowly to frown at him. “He… he doesn’t cum?”

“Hah?” Bakugou scowls at you, clearly annoyed that you’re still having this conversation. You’re not about to let up though, because you hadn’t known that.

“I-I didn’t realise that he didn’t-?” you trail off, mortified and horrified in equal measures. You had assumed all those times that he was jerking off under the sheets that he was getting himself off but just didn’t want you to see. You had never questioned the lack of mess because as soon as you were done he always left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with damp towels to clean you up with -- you had assumed he cleaned himself up in those moments of absence. How the fuck had you never noticed? Why did Bakugou know when you didn’t? Oh god, had he and Kirishima talked about this?

Bakugou’s expression shifts as he apparently realises that he had just revealed something you hadn’t been aware of. “Oh.” he says, and his annoyance seems to have evaporated, only to be replaced by an intense discomfort. “Well. It’s not that big a deal, or whatever. I’m sure he still, uh, enjoys himself- fucking hell, can we stop talking about this?”

“Yeah.” you say a little numbly. You feel so stupid. Why had he never said anything to you? You had been under the assumption that he liked you back, but maybe you were totally mistaken. Maybe seeing your naked body turned him off to the point that he couldn’t actually cum even if hidden under the sheets and not looking at you. Maybe he never actually wanted to do any of that with you in the first place. There’s a stinging pressure building in the back of your eyes, and you have to look down at your lap and blink hard to stop yourself from doing something stupid like bursting into tears in front of Bakgou -- you don’t think either of you would live that down. “Uh. I think I’m gonna head up to my room, I’m really tired.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened a little, “Wait, are you-”

“I’ll see you later,” you smile and try to keep your voice as normal as possible, but even you can hear how forced you sound. You stand quickly and brush yourself off before heading back inside; you have to consciously slow your pace so that it doesn’t look like you’re running away, because you really don’t put it past Bakugou not to chase you down for cutting him off like that.

You bump into Jirou on the stairs and babble out an apology, escaping back upstairs to your apartment before she can ask you if you’re okay. The last thing you need is an audience for your imminent breakdown, but thankfully you don’t see a single other person on the way to your place. You shut the door to your room tight and lean your forehead against it to take a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm you down, so you turn and make a beeline straight for the bed. Throwing yourself dramatically on top of your bed covers feels a little cathartic, so you allow yourself the luxury of being dramatic as you bury your face into your arms and sigh.

God, you wish Kirishima would have just talked to you instead of grinning that stupidly bright smile of his and changing the subject anytime you tried to talk or ask about the thing the two of you had together. At least then you would have been able to deal with any upset that may have been caused by that conversation by yourself, and you wouldn’t have had to get all upset in front of one of Kirishima’s best friends. God, how were you ever gonna look at Bakugou again?

You know that stewing by yourself like this isn’t going to help sort this situation out, but you just can’t find the energy to start thinking about what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to start thinking about that at all. You just need some time to yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe and just not think because if you start thinking you’re pretty sure you’re going to cry. You feel impossibly stupid.

When you hear a knock coming from the door, you want to bang your head off the wall. You can’t imagine anything worse than having to talk to someone and pretend that everything is fine right now.

“Y/N? Hey, is everything alright? Bakugou said you ran off.”

Aw, shit. Maybe you can imagine something worse.

You sit up sharply, staring at the door. This was so typical. Of all the people in the building, Kirishima is the last person you want to talk to right now. So of course it stands to reason that he would be the one to follow you straight to your apartment. “Everything’s fine,” you call back quickly, trying hard to sound like you meant it, “Hey, I’m just tired right now. Can we talk later?”

“Bakugou said you were upset.”

That traitor. You clench your jaw and scowl at the wall. “I’m-”

“I’m coming in, okay?”

“Wha-?” you stand up quickly, but Kirishima is already coming in and closing the door behind him. “Kirishima, I don’t-”

“Okay look, Bakugou said you were upset with me and I’m really, really sorry,” Kirishima blurts quickly, hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint, “He’s actually pretty annoyed at me right now, but he’s right, and-”

“I’m not-” you start, then pause to gather your thoughts. Bakugou was right, especially when he said you had to talk. And it was important this time that you didn’t let Kirishima divert you like he had been doing. “It’s not that I’m upset with you. Not really. I just- what are we even doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.

“I-” you swallow hard, brace yourself, “I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I’ve told you, or at least tried to, that I’d really like to, well, be- um, be more than whatever this is. And obviously I would totally get if you don’t want that, a relationship and stuff, but I want you to just tell me! Just say it, instead of changing the subject.”

“Wait, baby, please.” Kirishima steps forward quickly and stops just short of touching you, a bare few inches between you. “I like you so much, I never wanted you to feel this way. I just- it’s difficult to explain-”

“Do you...” you start to say, then sigh. You can’t believe you’re actually going to ask this, because it makes you sound so desperate, but you really need to hear him say it, “Do you not find me attractive?”

Kirishima makes a startled choking sound, “Wha-? Are you kidding? I find you so attractive! You’re so pretty, and your body is- is really nice, why would you think-”

“You never look at me when we’re in bed and-” you start fidgeting, horribly awkward. “I just want to be able to touch you.”

Kirishima steps forward, closing the distance between you and dropping to one knee. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumbs stroke circles into your skin. “You want me to touch you?”

“No.” you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, realising that he had misunderstood. “I mean. Bakugou told me that you never cum when we’re together.”

When you open your eyes again, you see that Kirishima has gone stock still. His mouth is a little open, and you can see his throat working as he seems to fight for something to say. Very slowly, he gets back to his feet. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

You stare at him, at a loss. “Is it because-” you start, then trail off as you realise that you don’t even know what you’re trying to ask. You just want him to start talking so that you can stop asking all these stupid questions. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you only have to say so, I would never pressure you into-”

“No!” Kirishima blurts, jolting forward. The suddenness of the movement seems to startle the both of you, but Kirishima recovers faster. “God, no, that’s not what this is!”

“Then, why?” you whisper, thoroughly confused. You had hoped that talking it out would help get some answers, but if anything you’re even more confused and insecure than you had been before he came to your room. “Did I- I mean, if I’m doing something that’s-”

“It’s not you.” Kirishima interrupts, covering his eyes with one of his large palms and leaning away from you. His hand is trembling a little, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

The statement hangs in the air between the two of you like it’s a tangible presence. You stare hard at Kirishima, but he doesn’t remove his hand from his face. He looks a bit like he’s going to be sick. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

You’re guessing that this is where you get the ‘You’re great and all but I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with you though, I need to work through my own stuff’ sort of speech, and you have to brace yourself for it. Instead, Kirishima says something that you had not prepared yourself to hear in the slightest.

“I’m sorry.” you say, a little bewildered. You’re certain that you heard that wrong. “Could you- could you say that again?”

A flush has begun to crawl steadily across Kirishima’s face, made all the more prominent by the contrast of his hand pressed to his eyes. His ears are so red that they blend right into his hair. “I said,” he says, then takes an inhale, “That you’ll break up with me if you see my dick.”

You don’t actually know how to begin replying to that. For one, breaking up would require you to be in a relationship, which is something that he has been avoiding for a while now. You decide to address the bigger problem first. “Why would I want to break up because of your dick? Why would you even think that? Do you think I’m that shallow?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you being shallow,” Kirishima says slowly. You get the impression that he’s measuring his words, and his uncharacteristic reticence has you on edge. “It’s just that- I’m not, well, normal.”

You stare at him, a little taken aback. Kirishima had always had some issues with self-confidence, ever since middle school, but you’d always thought he’d worked through that in UA. You had never heard him talk about himself like this. “What’s that supposed to mean? Eijirou, lots of people are self-conscious about what they have going on downstairs. It doesn’t mean-”

“No, you don’t get it,” he interrupts. His hands have started twisting up the hem of his shirt, wringing it out and wrinkling the material. He’s frowning, and clearly starting to get agitated. “It’s not that I’m self-conscious about it- well, I am self-conscious about it, I guess, but it’s for a reason! I mean it, it’s not exactly… standard.”

Your face scrunches up in a frown before you can stop it. Not standard? “You’re worried it’s too small?” You guess. Your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, where he’s subconsciously folded his hands. “Too big?”

“Um.” Kirishima lets out a nervous little laugh, several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. It’s… it looks weird.”

“Eijirou,” your voice is soft now, most of your frustration melted away by the sight of Kirishima’s anxious fidgeting, “We live in a world where physical mutations are the norm; you really don’t have anything to worry about.” You pause for a moment, but Kirishima doesn’t respond immediately. The silence builds, until you try to break it with a light-hearted, “How weird can it be, really?”

Kirishima’s throat works as he swallows hard, but he’s nodding so you at least know that he’s listening. When he does speak, his voice is so low that you have to lean closer to him to catch what he’s saying. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Your heart twists, and the last of your frustration straight up disappears. You take a breath to steady yourself, then step forward and place your hands gently on his chest. A tremor works its way up his spine at your touch, but you don’t remark on it. “Kirishima.” you say firmly, and when he looks up and makes eye contact you try to keep your gaze as strict as possible. “You really have no idea how much I like you, do you? God, I like you so much, it’s stupid. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. I mean, even if you never wanted to have sex I would understand, so long as you talked to me about it. Your dick is not gonna stop me from liking you, idiot.”

The fear of rejection is still plain to see on Kirishima’s face, but there’s something lurking just underneath that looks like hope. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone like that.”

“You haven’t?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Not only is Kirishima perfectly sweet, he’s also extremely attractive. As an up-and-coming sidekick in Fatgum’s hero agency, you knew that he had no shortage of admirers. Even before that, in UA, you knew there were always people who had their eyes on him. He was so bright, he was hard to miss.

He laughs, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. I mean, I’ve done oral and stuff, and I think I’m actually pretty good at it-”

“You are definitely pretty good at it,” you chime in, nodding and trying not to laugh at the flush crawling up his neck.

“I enjoy it, too!” he says quickly, as though trying to reassure you, “I enjoy it a lot. But I’ve never- I mean, no one’s ever touched me like that.” You feel your mouth drop open in honest shock. A little part of you couldn’t help but feel reassured that it wasn’t you he had a problem with, but that was mostly drowned out by surprise. Kirishima rushes on before you can speak, as though trying to say his piece before he runs out of steam, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that it’s never seemed worth the fallout. Especially with you. I’m happy with being with you in whatever way I can, and I don’t want my stupid dick to scare you off or-”

“Oh my god, Kirishima, stop,” you say, and this time you really can’t hold back your laugh. “Your stupid dick isn’t going to scare me off. God, I can’t believe this is why you never let me touch you.” you step closer and press a soft, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. You hadn’t realised just how tense Kirishima was until he relaxed a little into your touch, the stiffness in his shoulders easing out as he sighed into the kiss. You pull back just a little, just enough that you can give him a cheeky smile. “Want me to give you your first blowjob?”

Kirishima’s whole body tenses right back up as his eyes shoot wide in surprise. “What?” he squeaks out, his ears turning scarlet.

You take his hand in yours and tangle your fingers together, before tugging him gently towards the bed. “I want to,” you assure him quietly, “No matter what your dick looks like, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Kirishima says as he sits at the edge of the bed. He’s breathing a little faster now, either from excitement or nerves. You’re guessing it’s a bit of both, because he’s clinging on tight to your hand even though he looks like he’s about to bolt. When you hook your fingers around the waistband of his shorts, he catches one of your wrists with his free hand. “If you- you know, if you change your mind after seeing it, just know that I won’t be mad or anything.”

He’s so quiet and earnest that you feel your heart melt a little looking at his nervously hopeful eyes. You take your hand back and climb onto his lap, pushing your fingers into his wild mop of hair. It’s the first time you’ve ever been close with him like this -- usually he would give you a sweet, gentle kiss and then dive between your legs, always keeping a frustrating amount of distance between your lower halves. This time though, he doesn’t try to divert you away. His hands grip your hips tight, and he leans his head into your touch. “I wish you would stop expecting me to push you away.” you murmur into the side of his neck, peppering little kisses into his skin. Kirishima lets out the smallest, choked off sounding whine at that, and tilts his head so that the long line of his throat is exposed. You take the hint, and start trailing kisses all along the soft skin at the base of his neck. “I told you, and I meant it; I want to be with you.”

Strong arms wind their way around your back and pull you close until you’re sat right over Kirishima’s crotch. You don’t even think it was intentional on Kirishima’s part, but you won’t pass up the opportunity when it presents itself to you. His shorts are bulging a little right in the centre where he’s starting to get hard, and you lower yourself down so that you’re grinding over him. He gasps at the contact, and his hips jerk up into you. “Oh, shit. I want you, so badly.” he gasps, his forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder.

You have to admit, what you can feel through his shorts is… intimidating. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he had said when you asked him if he was worried about his dick being too big. Judging by what you could feel pressing against you, that was a massive understatement, and he was only half-hard. You ghost your hands down over his sides, feeling his ribs expand with his breaths, sliding down until your hands reach the waistband of his shorts again. You push them down over his hips, and he lifts himself up to help you, and then he’s just in his impressively tented jockstrap. You smile reassuringly at him as you tug down the jockstrap, and then his cock springs free of the waistband and you pause.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“I know that it’s-” Kirishima begins to visibly panic, his hand reflexively shooting down to try and cover himself as he tries to sit up.

“It’s okay.” you say quickly, recovering from your surprise as quickly as possible. You still feel a little off-kilter as you slide off his lap to your knees in front of him. You know that you’re staring at his cock wide-eyed, but you can’t quite help yourself. It’s… well. It’s definitely not standard.

You reach out, your hand hovering uncertainly over his cock because you barely know how to begin. It’s thicker than a soda can, and long. Delicate ridges and swirls decorate the underside, with a series of bumps along the top. When you finally do grasp him in your hand, you’re rewarded with a barely stifled gasp and a hot spurt of precum that dribbles down his cockhead to your fingers. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those strange ridges. The bumps along the top are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Kirishima gasps and his hips thrust gracelessly into the air.

“Sorry!” he blurts as his cock dribbles even more precum. There’s so much of it that it looks like you actually used lube or something to slick up his cock, but you guess that this must be normal for him because he just looks embarrassed. “I- it’s sensitive, I guess, um- I usually put down a towel, because I tend to get, uh, messy.”

The way he says that and the connotations of it has your thighs squeezing together, and you take a deep inhale through your nose. It’s unexpectedly hot. “Gotcha.” you smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you return your attention back to his dick. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind if you make a mess.”

“Oh, shit. Uh, okay.” Kirishima says, and his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier now. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”

The precum is oozing almost continuously now, spilling over with nearly every stroke, and your rubbing at the swollen base seems to be pushing even more out. It’s obscene, the copious amount of it and the way it’s stringing down onto your hands. If this is the amount of precum he produces, you can hardly imagine the amount of cum he’s going to produce. You wonder if ‘messy’ is another understatement.

You finally lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up the underside of his cock, lapping at the ridges and swirls. The moan that’s ripped out of him is needy and so desperate -- his stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he’s putting in to keep from rocking into your mouth, but his cheeks are flushed and his own mouth is lolling open, his eyes squeezed shut. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, suckling at the tip before swallowing him down. You get about halfway before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.

“Oh god, oh baby, oh Y/N,” Kirishima is babbling nonsensically, his head thrown as his hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake. “Feels so good.”

You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, tracing the swirls and squeezing the bottom. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Kirishima’s whole cock twitches.

When he gasps out your name you pull back and look up at him. He’s trembling, his shirt rucked up past his bellybutton and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on you. “You okay?” you ask softly, rubbing your thumb along one of the ridges under the head of his dick.

“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and you realise that a string of saliva and precum is dripping down your chin. “But if you keep going I’m gonna cum.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” you laugh, and press a kiss right on his slit. His hips twitch and you dodge backwards just in time to avoid him taking your eye out with his hard on.

“Sorry!” he looks mortified, and you can’t help but find his nervous fumbling absolutely adorable.

“Don’t worry about it.” you smile as you kiss your way down his shaft, prepared now for the intermittent jerking of his hips. You get to that swollen part at the base and place your mouth right at the bottom of his cock, before wrapping your lips around it to the best of your ability and sucking.

You had guessed that this swollen area was sensitive thanks to his reactions earlier, but you’re not quite prepared for the shout he lets out or the way his hand grabs onto the side of your head as he damn near rides your mouth. You’re totally startled by the reaction, but given the amount of times that you’ve done the same to his mouth you’re only too happy to indulge him. Plus, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen Kirishima fall apart like this. His cock is dribbling precum at a rapid rate the more excited he gets, and thick strings of it are pouring onto your cheeks. You think you should probably feel a little grossed out, but seeing Kirishima open-mouthed and panting as he rides your face like he’s hasn’t got a single other thought in his mind has you so turned on that your panties are getting sticky and uncomfortable between your legs. You stick your own hand between your legs to try and relieve yourself of some of the heat coiling up in your stomach, but the way that Kirishima’s rutting into your face throws off your coordination.

“Oh god, please, baby, please, put it back in your mouth, I’m gonna- fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, please-” He begs, his head thrown back as he gasps.

How could you ever deny him when he pleads like that? You pull your head out of his grasp and sink your mouth back down on his cock, and then you just hold there and breathe as steadily as you can as Kirishima’s cock throbs in your mouth. His hips spasm, pushing his cock further into your throat. It almost feels like he’s getting bigger, as if he’s growing down your throat.

Kirishima is still babbling, a steady stream of senselessness about how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, until he cuts himself off with a gasp of “Baby, I’m- I’m-” and then he’s silent, his mouth hanging open as his whole body strains.

You try to suck him through his orgasm, but you are utterly unprepared for the sheer quantity of cum that erupts from his dick. Despite your intentions, you have no choice but to pull off his cock, choking a little on the cum that actually managed to get up your nose. You stroke him through it, feeling dazed as you watch him cum. You know it’s dripping from your chin, running in rivulets down your face. You wonder if it’s coming out your nose.

Kirishima seems to come forever, humping into your fist and whining and moaning the whole time. When his cock finally gives its last, exhausted spurt, his body falls limp against the bed. He’s gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, looking like his soul had been ejected from his body along with the insane amount of cum. You notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.

You climb up on the bed beside him and nudge him with your knee, a little concerned. “Eijirou? You good?”

When he looks at you, there’s a goofy smile splitting his face. “I have never been so good in my whole life.” His smile freezes as he catches a proper look at your face, caught between surprise, embarrassment, and something else. He reaches out to your face and swipes his fingers through the mess on your face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be!” you hasten to assure him, squeezing his wrists. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Kirishima stares at you as though he almost doesn’t believe you, but his cum is painted across your face and dripping down your chest, so he’s not in the best position to argue. “I told you I tend to get messy.” he breathes out a laugh, and then leans forward to kiss you, apparently not caring about the taste of his own ejaculate.

You hum into his mouth, your thighs clenching in excitement. “Eijirou,” you whisper into the kiss. When he pulls back, you bite your lip and smile at him, “Next time, will you fuck me?”

Kirishima inhales sharply, and his grip on your hips tightens to the point that the pressure is near bruising. “You really want that?”

“God, yes.” you blurt, shifting so that you’re straddling his stomach. You lower yourself down so that you’re grinding against his bare skin, and you can see the exact moment that he realises you’ve soaked through your panties.

He groans, and pulls at your hips to encourage you to grind against his stomach harder. “Shit, sweetheart. You don’t think it’s… kind of gross?”

“I didn’t expect the amount of cum,” you confess, wiping at your face with a helpless laugh, “But no, I don’t think it’s gross. I like it.” You whimper as Kirishima’s thumb slides over your swollen clit, the glide made smooth thanks to the slickness of your own arousal.

Kirishima is looking up at you as though you had hung the moon, and it’s hard not to get a little embarrassed under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay,” he whispers, “If you’re sure.” He glances down with a small frown, his lips twisted thoughtfully, “I don’t want to hurt you, though.”

“You won’t.” you kiss his nose, grinning as it wrinkles up under your lips. “We’ll make sure I’m stretched.” you glance over your shoulder at his still wet, softening cock. Even now, the size of it is intimidating. “And lube,” you conclude, “We’ll use lots and lots of lube.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, a smile starting to light up his face. He presses a sloppy kiss to the base of your throat, and you can feel the smile against your skin, “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.” There’s still cum everywhere, all over your hands and chest and face and splashed across Kirishima’s legs and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care about the mess in the slightest as he rolls the two of you over so that he’s hovering over you. The kiss he presses to one of your breasts is impossibly soft, and you tilt your head back and sigh as you feel his fingers trace over the lips of your pussy. “I’m so lucky to have you.” he whispers, then pushes himself down your body.

As his tongue flicks over your clit, you smile. It’s definitely you that’s the lucky one here.

_________________________

Kirishima’s complicated relationship with his genitalia had started in middle school. Up until that point, he had managed to remain blissfully unaware that there was any kind of abnormality in his nether regions. That changed one day in the locker rooms.

Having never paid any particular attention to what he had in his pants, Kirishima hadn’t thought anything of changing out with the rest of the boys in his class, as unabashed as any middle-schooler that hadn’t developed a sense of self-consciousness yet. He didn’t notice the whispers or stares until one of his friends nudged him hard. “Dude,” he said, glancing between Kirishima’s legs and then away, curiosity and mild revulsion mingled on his face, “What’s wrong with your thingy?”

“Wrong?” Kirishima had echoed, discomfort beginning to prickle beneath his skin. He hadn’t realised there was anything wrong with his genitals. He covered up quickly and finished getting changed, but the stares lingered.

No one said anything more about it to him, but by the end of the day rumour had spread that Kirishima was weird down there.

He had, like so many boys his age, taken to the internet to do his own research. It felt like a punch to the gut when he realised that his classmates were right -- his dick looked nothing like the dicks that all the guys in the videos he found had. There were exceptions, where the person’s genitals were affected by their quirk, but they were always full-body quirks that made it pretty obvious that what you were gonna find down below would be non-standard. His genitals didn’t match his body or his quirk, so his classmates must be right when they say that he’s weird with those grossed-out little laughs.

He learned pretty quickly to keep that part of him to himself, to change out quickly and efficiently in such a way that no one would ever see the parts of him that he’d rather keep hidden. He welcomes physical contact because he’s still an affectionate guy, but he’s always careful about the distance he allows between himself and others just in case they brush up against him accidentally and somehow feel that he’s different. When the boys in his class start excitedly talking about girls and other boys, and how nice it’d be to have a girlfriend or boyfriend, Kirishima tries to stay out of it. He doesn’t want to wonder about something like that when he knows that if someone were to find out his secret they’d be totally grossed out.

High school comes hand in hand with experimentation though, and Kirishima is lonely and touch-starved. He doesn’t want to avoid touch for the rest of his life out of fear that someone’s going to know. So he allows himself to indulge a little; he’s popular with girls in UA, a fact that surprises him. Unlike the girls in middle school, they haven’t heard the rumours that there’s something wrong with him, so they smile and chat to him and even flirt. It’s exciting and new and he allows himself to have just this -- he kisses them and he makes them feel good, and then he retreats when they look for more because he just can’t give it to them.

When he tells you all this, you could swear that you feel your heart crack right down the middle. You hadn’t realised how lonely Kirishima was, wrapped up in a self-constructed blanket of self-loathing and disgust. You knew it had taken a lot of trust for him to open up to you like he had, but you hadn’t realised just how much. It makes your chest fill with some undefinable emotion, and you just want to hold him and never let go.

You’re more determined than ever now to show him exactly how much you care about him, and exactly how much any physical anomaly doesn’t affect the way you feel in the slightest. You’ve been stretching yourself methodically and carefully every night of the week that has passed since you gave him his first blowjob in preparation to finally have sex with him. You just want him to feel good, and you don’t want him to worry about hurting you. And now, tonight, you’ve decided that you’re ready for it.

Bakugou’s the one that answers the door when you knock at their shared apartment, and his face does something funny when he sees you. He lets you in without a greeting, and yells for Kirishima as you shut the door behind you. It’s definitely a little awkward, because your last proper conversation was that day when he told you that your now boyfriend didn’t get off when you were together, but you smile and ask him how he’s doing all the same.

He just grunts at you and sprawls out on the couch, his attention fixed on his phone. You don’t try to make any further conversation, because you figure he probably won’t respond and you can hear Kirishima crashing around further down the hall anyway. You’re about to slip down the hall towards Kirishima’s room when Bakugou speaks again, surprising you. “You talked.”

You pause, confused for half a moment before the memories of your last conversation come flooding back. “Oh. Uh, yeah, we did.”

Bakugou nods, still staring at his phone. You hover uncertainly, unsure of whether you should continue to Kirishima’s room or if Bakugou had something else he wanted to say. You don’t have to wait long; Bakugou puts his phone down and turns to survey you closely. “If you’re still here, then I guess you didn’t freak out.”

“There’s nothing to freak out over.” you say defensively, thinking of how sensitive Kirishima is about his body.

“I never said there was!” Bakugou snaps back instantly. You both glare at each other, but you don’t respond further. You came here for one reason, and that reason was not to start a fight with Bakugou when your boyfriend was waiting for you in the bedroom. When Bakugou speaks again, it’s with an awkward edge to his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t be an asshole to him.”

You realise that Bakugou is just trying to look out for his friend, and the revelation that you’re receiving Bakugou’s awkward attempt at a shovel talk is enough to have you reeling. “As if I would be,” you say, “I really like him.”

“Good. Fine.” Bakugou picks his phone back up and you take that as a dismissal. You’re just about to leave when he says, “By the way, keep it the fuck down. I don’t care if you’re taking dragon dick or if it’s Shitty Hair’s first time getting his dick wet, I don’t need to hear that nasty shit.”

His crudeness has you flushing hot with embarrassment, but you don’t dignify him with a response. You slip down the hall and up to Kirishima’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door before letting yourself in.

Kirishima is in the process of trying to stuff a pile of clothes into the bottom of his wardrobe, and he slams the door shut and whirls around when he hears you come in. “Hey!” he beams at you, trying to kick aside the pair of underwear that’s stuck in the edge of the wardrobe door.

“Hey, you.” you greet him. You’re still a bit flustered from Bakugou’s comment, but you hide it as best as you can as Kirishima sweeps you up in his arms and pulls you into a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

In the week since you blew him the first time, the two of you have alternated between your apartments and spent almost every single day together. Some days you just touched each other with your hands, other days you used your mouths on each other. You still hadn’t gotten fully used to his enormous loads of cum, but he seems at least to be getting more and more comfortable with your touch. Even now, his hands trail up your sides as he presses eagerly into you; this boldness would have been unheard of coming from him only a week ago, but neither of you are under any illusions about what the two of you are going to get up to this evening.

You wind your arms around his neck and melt into the kiss, relishing the contact and the wet slide of his lips against yours. As his hands trail from your hips to your lower back to your ass, you feel the hard press of his lower abdomen nudge against you. You pull back and grin at him, “Someone’s impatient.”

Kirishima flushes, but he doesn’t pull away or deny it. Progress. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” he confesses quietly, reaching up to nudge a flyaway tuft of hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah?” you grin, delighting in his openness. You take a small step back and look down at where his bulge is tenting the front of his sweatpants. “How long have you been like this, baby?”

“Pretty much since you texted me telling me you were thinking of coming over.” he says with a cheeky little smile, nudging his face into your neck and nipping at the skin there. “So, an hour and a half? Give or take.”

You hum as you cup his hardness through the cotton of his joggers. He groans and his hips jerk into your palm, as sensitive as ever. “Hey,” you murmur, “Wanna fuck me?”

Kirishima’s whole body twitches at that, and you swear you can feel his cock jump in his hand. “Now?” he asks, his voice gone a little hoarse from surprise and arousal.

“Unless you’d like to wait?”

“No! Now is good!” Kirishima says hastily, reaching out to hold your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “God, now is so good.”

It’s really hard to hold back your laugh as you watch him scramble towards the bed, tugging you along with him. He’s excited, that much is obvious, and you really can’t blame him -- he’s gone so long thinking that he would never get to have this, that he would never be accepted like this. You want to give him everything.

His hands start fidgeting with the sheets as soon as he sits back on the bed. You straddle his lap and take his hands in yours before leaning in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from any nerves or self-doubts before they can take a hold of him. He hums happily into your mouth, squeezing one of your hands in his and using the other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

“I’ve thought about sex with you so many times,” you admit when you pull away from the kiss. You reach up and stroke a line down the bridge of his nose, then push back a lock of his hair; it’s freshly washed and ungelled, lying fluffy and loose around his face. He’s looking up at you like you just hung the moon, open-mouthed and soft-eyed. It’s such a sweet look on him, and you love watching it contort into pleasure as you sink down to rub yourself against his hard on. “I want you to feel good.”

Kirishima makes a choked off whining sound in his throat as he grinds up into you. “You always make me feel good.” he says. You can feel his cock thickening and filling out against you, and judging by how clearly you can feel him, he’s foregone the usual jockstrap or protective cup he uses to try and hide his shape in his pants.

You reach down and pull at his sweatpants -- you manage to get one leg off entirely, but the other gets stuck halfway down his left thigh and you’re too impatient to keep pulling at it so you just abandon it in favour of reaching for Kirishima’s now exposed cock. You’ve gotten familiar with the thick ridges and bumps of it over the past week, familiar enough for your fingers to seek out his sensitive spots without even looking.

He moans as you touch him, and dips his hands into your pants so that he can squeeze at your ass. His grip is a little too hard, bordering on painful as he bites at your neck. He pops open the button on your pants and shoves one of his hands into your panties, rubbing at your clit with his thumb and trailing his other fingers along your slit.

You rub at the bumps along the tip of his cock, and you’re rewarded with a little squirt of precum. It dribbles down your hand and onto the sheets, and you wonder if maybe you should put down some towels to try and keep the mess contained. But Kirishima is letting out the softest little moans as he tries to rut into your hand and rub at your clit at the same time, and you decide that ruining the moment to lay down towels just isn’t worth it. A little mess is a small sacrifice to make.

When his fingers finally dip inside you, you feel his whole body tense up and still. “Baby,” he says, his voice soft and a little stunned, “You..”

“I stretched myself out before I came over,” you finish for him, pushing your hips back so that his fingers sink all the way inside of you. The lube still inside of you makes the slide effortless, and the look on Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “I’m ready when you are.”

Those words elicit another little spurt of precum as Kirishima’s cock twitches in your hand. When you glance down, you see that the base of his dick is engorged and painful looking, and it only seems to be swelling. You only get to look for a moment though, because then you’re being flipped on your back and Kirishima is looming over you. “Oh, baby, oh shit,” he grits out through clenched teeth as his cock rubs up against the back of your thighs. “Are you sure you want to?”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” you promise him, kissing where you can reach on his face. You reach down and grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Go slow, baby.” You’re so excited when you first feel the tip of his cock press into you that you’re not sure if the gush of wetness is from your pussy or his precum. You’re so turned on that you wonder if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but then the length of him starts to stretch you out and you decide that yes, you absolutely did need that lube.

As soon as the tip is in, Kirishima stills over you. His head drops down, forehead making contact with your shoulder as he groans. You rock your hips experimentally, your breathing gone a little ragged as you realise that you can feel all those fleshy bumps and ridges, but Kirishima snatches at your hips instantly to still you. When he speaks, his voice is strained, “I’m not gonna last.”

Affection bubbles up in your chest as you look at his flushed face, his misty eyes. He’s practically trembling from the effort of holding back. “It’s okay,” you assure him, looping your arms over his shoulders and tracing little patterns into the skin of his back, “You don’t have to, it’s your first time. We have all the time in the world to go again and again, as many times as you want.”

Kirishima makes a garbled little noise in the back of his throat, and then he’s kissing you so sloppily and enthusiastically that drool begins to slip down your chins. It’s a little gross, but considering how much cum you’re going to be covered in soon enough you can’t be too fussy. When he pulls back, it’s so that he can look down and watch where his cock is entering you in increments.

The slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat. You throw your head back on the bed and focus on keeping your breathing as steady as possible as he presses into you so, so slowly. After exploring the length of him with your mouth and hands, you knew he was big, but apparently knowing and feeling are two completely separate things. You feel like you’re being stretched impossibly wide, and when you glance down you see that he’s not even halfway in.

Kirishima pauses suddenly, his breathing coming in short pants. You think that he’s just taking a moment to collect himself, to pace himself, but he’s frowning down at where the two of you are connected. “I dont- I don’t think I’ll fit.”

“Oh, you’ll fit.” you declare, jaw set stubbornly. His dick was already partly in you, and like hell were you giving up now. “Don’t worry. Keep going, Eiji.”

“You’re so…” he groans as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you, “So tight, you feel so wet and warm inside, oh god, so good, so good.”

The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve prepared yourself well for this and it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe through it. When he bottoms out inside you, the tip of his cock hits your cervix and your whole body jerks hard at the dull ache it sends up your spine. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hips humping back into Kirishima’s of their own accord. You can feel every damn ridge and swirl grinding against your insides, and you clamp down hard around him, gasping. “Oh, shit.”

You’ve never felt so full in your life, and Kirishima’s cock doesn’t even fit all the way inside you. You wonder if you’re about to split in two. Your thighs are splayed obscenely wide, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. Your chest is heaving as you pant for breath -- your thoughts have turned a little muddy, but even now you can see that Kirishima has frozen, his face tucked into your neck as he shudders with deep, panting breaths. Your shoulder feels wet, and you realise that he’s drooling on you.

“Eijirou,” you groan, “Move.”

His first thrust is hesitant, exploratory. He apparently likes what he feels, because he lifts his head up so that he can look at you properly. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused, and his expression alone shoots a bolt of heat straight between your legs. You breathe out a curse and move your hips down and into him, trying to encourage him to fuck you properly. When he thrusts forward again, the movement is accompanied by a vulgar squelching sound, and you realise that you’re probably being filled up with his precum. The thought makes you moan quietly, tightening up around him.

Kirishima grunts and dives down so that your chests are pressed together, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. His moans sound like they’ve come straight out of a porn video as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as possible before pulling out and doing it again. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping.

His movements are nearly feral, jackhammering into you at a pace that probably should feel punishing but instead has you hiccuping out moans on every stroke. The size of him and the speed at which he’s fucking at you is overwhelming in the best possible way. He keeps gasping your name in between moans, his jaw lolling open as he pants for breath. “Oh, baby girl, you feel so good, so good for me. You like this?”

“Yes!” you wheeze, clinging to his shoulders as he rails you into the mattress. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. “Oh god, don’t stop!” You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly, and you practically throw yourself down to meet his thrusts. “Please, I’m gonna cum, make me cum, Eiji!”

Kirishima practically snarls at that, his hand snaking down to your pussy even as he keeps rutting into you. His hand finds your clit and starts stroking at it hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking. “Fuck yes, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You know you’re starting to shake apart, his cock and his fingers too much for you. Your body is strung taut, your orgasm so close you can virtually taste it. As he feels you clamp down around him Kirishima lets out a whimpering moan, and with that you’re totally gone, head slamming back on the bed as you let out mindless, breathless little choking moans. It feels like your vision totally wipes out as you convulse in Kirishima’s arms, hips twitching wildly.

When the euphoria of your orgasm finally subsides, you feel so totally fucked out that you hardly know which way is up. It takes you a moment to become aware of the way Kirishima is humping into you desperately now, hunkering over you and groaning. Feeling his cock slide in and out of your over-sensitive and still twitching pussy is almost too much, and you know you won’t be able to take much more of his relentless pounding. You clench around him as tight as you can and cup his sweaty face in your hands, smiling at the open-mouthed look of pure need he’s giving you. “Are you gonna cum inside me, Eiji?”

Apparently that was the correct thing to say, because you can see the moment that he hurtles completely over the edge. He shoves his cock as deep as he can get inside you and then he’s crying out as he begins to empty himself inside you. He keeps rocking, even though his cock is crammed as far into you as it’s possible to get, and you tremble and gasp as you feel his cum spraying inside you. It feels totally filthy, and there’s so much of it that you can feel it leaking out and down your ass even though Kirishima’s cock is still plugging you up. There’s so much cum that you actually start to wonder if your birth control is going to still be effective. You almost expect it to start coming out of your ears.

It seems like he’s cumming forever, and eventually he has to pull out because you’re just too full. As soon as his gradually softening cock is pulled free, it seems like a veritable bucketload of cum streams out of you and makes a mess of the bedcovers. It’s simultaneously really gross and really, really hot, and you don’t have the energy to unpack that so you just lay back and watch as Kirishima’s cock continues to dribble cum all over his legs and your abdomen. The swollen base of his cock is deflated now, and his dick eventually gives one last twitch and then he’s finished.

He collapses on top of you, sweaty and soiled with his cum, but you don’t complain as he wraps you up in his arms and kisses your temples, murmuring soft, mindless praise into your hairline. “Are you okay?” he whispers, “Did I hurt you?”

You laugh a little, still winded. Your pussy is feeling achey from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow, but it’s the best kind of hurt imaginable. “You did everything just right.” you say, giving him a tired smile. “How was it?”

“If I could stay in your pussy forever, I would.” he says solemnly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

You laugh properly at that, and roll over so that you’re lying across his chest. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve just ruined me for all other cocks in the world. No one's ever gonna compare to how good yours feels.”

With your chin on his chest, you have a clear view of the way he flushes at your words, and the vulnerability that creeps into his expression as he looks at you. “Really?”

“I just came so hard it felt like the world was ending.” you grin at him, then press a teasing kiss to one of his pecs. “Yes, really.”

A smile breaks out on his face, toothy and dorky, as if he can’t believe his luck. “So… Would you want to do it again, maybe? Sometime?”

The smile you return is so wide it feels like it’s about to split your face. “Yeah, Eiji. Without question.”

It’s hard to kiss when you’re both grinning like total idiots, but the two of you make a valiant effort all the same. The ridiculous amount of cum painting the two of you is beginning to dry and flake off your skin, and it's definitely kind of gross but you’re so happy and sated and tired in that moment that you’re pretty sure nothing on earth could ruin the moment for you. Not even Bakugou when he comes pounding at the door and yelling obscenities in the form of noise complaints.

#NO ONE LOOK AT ME OK #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima scenario #dragon dick kiri

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Lunch Discussions. Team Bucciarati x F Reader🎀

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

Word count: 1.3k, somehow ?? Notes: this is probably the most lighthearted thing i’ve ever created. idk what’s happening here. it started as a silly idea in my head but I Could Not Stop. so here it is

“If you were stranded on a deserted island, who from this table would you want to be stuck with?”

Mista’s question goes largely unnoticed. Fugo and Narancia are in a heated discussion on if classical or hip hop is better, Bucciarati and Giorno are speaking about business, and Abbacchio is trying to zone the chatter out. That leaves you to save Mista from the throes of embarrassment. Truth be told, this innocent question is an improvement from Mista’s usual discourse.

The gunslinger’s face lights up when you hum, considering the question.

“So it’d just be the two of us? I can’t say I’d bring a radio or something?” You ask to clarify further.

Mista shakes his head. “Nope, no bringing anything.”

That means practicality is most vital here. You mull over what each of your teammates (and bosses), could bring to the table. It didn’t take too long to reach a definitive answer.

“For survival’s sake, I’d pick Giorno,” you decide, the aforementioned man’s attention going to you upon hearing his name. “Well, I guess it depends on whether or not the food Gold Experience makes is edible. If it is, we’d be able to survive a long time off of it. Say, Giorno, can you eat the stuff you make?”

“I’ve… never tried, so I’m not sure. In theory, any life created by Gold Experience is the same down to the genetics of what it’s based on.”

Narancia snorts and takes a bite of his salad. “It’s all fun and games until a coconut falls on Giorno’s head and he’s knocked out cold. Then all the sticks and sand he used to make the food would turn back in your stomach.”

Huh. That makes for a grotesque mental image.

Giorno tries to defend himself but Narancia is too busy readying his argument. “A coconut…?”

“Clearly, I’m the best choice here,” Narancia decides, pointing his fork at you. Should that be considered a threat? “Aerosmith could get the attention of a nearby plane.”

“Non-Stand users wouldn’t be able to see it, you dumbass. What are you going to do? Wait for a Stand user pilot to roll on by?” Fugo asks with a sigh, Narancia shooting him a nasty look.

“You never know! I’m sure there’s one or two. Besides, why would anyone want to bring you along? Your Stand couldn’t even hunt for food, it’d turn everything into a big ol’ pile of mush.”

Fugo clicks his tongue. “There’s more to survival than that. Food is a valuable resource, yes, but do you know how to purify water?”

Narancia furrows his eyebrows together, considering the proposition. “You have to… purify water?”

Now it’s Fugo’s turn to look at you.

“This idiot would give you dysentery on day one,” he states dryly. You hold back a laugh at the indignation on Narancia’s face. “I think my chances would be pretty good. At least I know what poisonous plants look like.”

Mista’s simple question is turning into a complex cobweb of possibilities. He can’t help but notice the others seemed more willing to chime in the moment you entered the conversation. Silently, he tells himself not to take it personally.

“Well, whatever. I’d pick [First]. She could make us a shelter and bridges to different areas. The rest of you guys can be boring and pick Giorno.” Narancia decides. You can’t help but feel a little honored that he’d pick you, a content smile on your face. His last comment makes you wonder if picking Giorno is the easy answer, due to the nature of his Stand’s abilities. Abbacchio, who none of you thought was paying attention, speaks up.

“I wouldn’t pick Giorno,” Abbacchio places his headphones around his neck. “I wouldn’t pick any of you guys, actually. Aside from Bucciarati, you’d all be dead in a week, easily.”

Bucciarati clears his throat, realizing he’s now been roped into the conversation. “I’m glad you guys are having fun, but--”

Mista is quick to rebuke Abbacchio’s claims. “I would not die in a week! I’d at the very least make it to two weeks.”

“Like hell you would. Pistols would destroy your food supply on the first day.” Abbacchio counters. Hm, he’s got a point, you think. Pistols do have a notoriously ravenous appetite. Note to self, do not get stuck on an island with Mista.

Mista puts a hand to his chin, contemplating. “Hm… actually, yeah, you’re right. Nevermind.”

You blink, incredulous at Mista’s agreeable response. He gave up that fast?!

“What if we kept it out of Pistol’s reach?” You tentatively speak up, trying to save Mista’s honor once more. He shudders at the thought.

“There is no such thing as food out of Pistols reach,” Mista sighs, to which his Stand cheers. “They will always find it.”

An idea comes to mind. Clasping your hands together, you look at Narancia with a smile, who immediately returns it in full. “Oh, I know! What if we got on Aerosmith, and it flew us to safety?”

Narancia likes the idea and nods his head vigorously. “That’s genius!”

Fugo snorts, preparing a rebuttal in record time. “Yeah, it’d be genius until you both drop into the ocean.”

“[First], did you forget what happened the last time you were on a plane with Narancia?” Abbacchio raises an eyebrow. Your blood runs cold as memories of Notorious B.I.G come flooding back. Actually, being on any form of transportation with these people seems to end poorly. Cars, boats, airplanes…

“Come to think of it, you’re right about that,” you agree with a shiver. “Being stuck with Abbacchio might be interesting. Moody Blues could replay scenes from a movie to pass the time.”

“It’d be a one-man show, but I guess it’s not impossible,” Abbacchio replies. Giorno, who had been silently watching the banter, decides to speak his piece.

“I agree with Narancia,” Giorno nods at you. “[First] would be able to treat my wounds, and I hers. We’d survive the longest.”

“Oh, please. You guys just want to be stuck on an island with [First] because she’s c-”

Abbacchio kicks Mista under the table, effectively silencing him. Beats getting stabbed with a fork, you muse. Bucciarati, who is doing his best to moderate the discussion, has remained noticeably absent. Not wanting to miss out on his input, you direct the question to him.

“What about you, Bucciarati? Who would you pick?”

Your Capo thinks about it longer than the others. “Fugo’s plentiful knowledge of biodiversity would be useful. Though, if we’re taking Stands into account, [First]’s Scarlet Ribbons could make a net for fishing.”

“Finally, a sensible answer.” Fugo sighs.

“The real question is,” Mista takes a deep breath, placing his hands on the table. “Why is no one picking me?

“I thought we already went over that,” Narancia replies.

“Aside from the little caveat Pistols presents, I’d still be a valuable asset. Did you guys forget that I survived prison?”

“Two weeks of prison, might I add,” Fugo corrects, to Mista’s dismay. “By that logic, Narancia would be the best choice.”

“Which I am--”

“You don’t even know how to make a fire, much less survive in the wild.”

“If I shoot something long enough it’ll catch on fire.” Narancia shrugs. Fugo rubs his temple, fending off a headache that looms on the horizon. It looks like none of you are going to be reaching a conclusion anytime soon, talking circles around one another. Still, you feel as if this is the appeal of talking to them. You can expect it to be a thrilling adventure from start to finish.

Everyone had been too drawn into the conversation to realize the waiter, who finally works up the courage to clear his throat, catching your attention.

“The bill for today,” is all he has the courage to say.

Mista, Narancia, and Abbacchio both motion to Giorno at the same time, who sighs and reaches for his wallet.

#no thots head empty #giorno #giorno x reader #bruno x reader #abbacchio x reader #mista x reader #fugo x reader #narancia x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #vento aureo x reader #Vento Aureo #golden wind x reader #scarlet ribbons #jjba x reader #jjba #my stuff

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Want of a Spider

Prompt: Just reread unwanted and God I forgot how good it was also if it was a book I would buy so many copies of it also could we get a oneshot of mabye a few years later after everything happened to see how the boys are doing I just want to see them happy together

Ah, yes, don’t we all?

Read on Ao3

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: implied/referenced panic attacks, nothing too severe, shapeshifting

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 6888

A child runs to a garden.

Five fae take the child as their own.

Slowly, the child grows into something new.

Set after the events of (Un)Wanted.

It starts slow.

Slow enough that at first, Virgil’s not even sure it’s happening. The garden is…weird, to put it mildly, and it’s not like living with a bunch of fae is going to give anyone a baseline for what’s normal.

He’s just finished baking a new batch of bread with Patton. Patton’s room smells amazing, the bread looks warm and soft and part of Virgil—a part that Roman and Janus have been slowly encouraging to speak up more—wants to grab it and rip a hunk off with his teeth, temperature be damned.

Part of him would rather not have a burned tongue for the rest of the day, thank you very much. Then he won’t be able to actually enjoy the rest of the bread, just the too-sore feeling of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

…and part of him still doesn’t know how to eat properly. Or that it’s okay to want to eat.

Patton must catch that last thought buzzing around because he looks over with a frown, reaching out to pinch the offending buzzing thing out of the air and squash it, rubbing his fingertips together until it poofs and disintegrates. The accompanying bubble of relief works its way through Virgil’s chest.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, kiddo, that seemed like a nasty one.” Patton finishes drying his hands off and surveys their handiwork. “Well! That went well.”

Virgil snorts. “Ah, yes, I forget that throwing flour at whoever you’re baking with is always important.”

“Don’t you look at me, you started it!” Patton points his finger at him. “You’re the one who threw it at me first.”

Virgil blinks. “You bumped me while I was trying to measure it out.”

“I did.” Patton nods. “And then you bumped me back.”

“Yes. Bumped. I didn’t throw it at you.”

“You did, however, decide to wipe it off my face without getting the rest of it off your own.”

“Because you threw it at me!”

Patton throws his head back and laughs, which of course makes Virgil laugh too because have you not seen his face when he laughs you try keeping a straight face. The memory of the two of them absolutely covered in flour, barely any of it in the bowl where it was supposed to go, is enough to make him scrub his hands through his hair to make sure that yes, he did in fact get all of it out.

“Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” Patton murmurs as their giggles slow, shaking his head and going for the plates, “but I think that’s given the bread enough time to cool off.”

“Does that mean we should call the others?”

“If you want to.”

Virgil closes his eyes and reaches, searching for the tether in his chest. It takes a few pokes and prods but eventually he feels something warm and pushes.

“Hello, yes, hi, I heard something about fresh bread?” Roman pops up first, giving Virgil a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t start without me!”

“Hey!”

Virgil giggles as Remus drops straight onto Roman, almost knocking them both to the ground. He hears an exasperated sigh behind him and turns, seeing Logan shake his head at the twins.

“You would think,” he mutters to Virgil, “the two of them would develop a little more sense of spatial awareness after the first…oh, ten times they’ve knocked things over.”

“I don’t think they’ve ever had to.”

“You’re right.” Logan shakes his head again and turns to Patton. “It smells delicious, you two, congratulations.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet,” Patton reminds, “we have to wait for—“

“Fuck.”

Virgil holds a hand to his chest as Janus chuckles, having appeared out of fucking nowhere just behind him as he turned to see where the snake was. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Janus rubs a circle between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry, little mouse,” Janus murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”

“It’s fine.” He leans into the touch for a moment longer. “I, uh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Never, little mouse, you have my word.”

“Thanks.”

“Remus, I swear—“

“Just let me go and it’ll be fine!”

“Kiddos,” Patton scolds, all but prying the twins apart, “if you don’t stop fighting, there won’t be any bread left for you.”

Virgil has to stifle a chuckle at how fast the two of them break apart, sitting and folding their hands in their laps to patiently wait for their bread. Judging by the way Janus presses a little closer behind him, he knows what’s going to happen before Patton turns to him.

“Virgil? Would you like to do the honors?”

“Uh, sure.” Virgil takes the bread knife hesitantly and examines the loaf. It looks too pretty to cut…but it smells incredible. “How—uh, how much does everyone want?”

“If you let them,” Logan says wryly, “they’ll eat the whole loaf. Take what you want first.”

“Will not!”

“You, you absolutely will.”

“Hey!”

The knife hits the cutting board with a soft tap, the slice falling neatly onto the plate. Patton takes the knife when Virgil offers it, taking over the slicing as Virgil scoots around the edge of the counter to sit with his slice.

It looks so..perfect. And as he lifts it up and bites into it—

Yeah, he could eat this for the rest of his life and be happy.

Judging by the way the rest of them devour the loaf, they agree.

“You did wonderfully,” Logan murmurs amidst the smatterings of compliments, “this is delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“You must remind Patton to make this again with you, it tastes much better.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, Logan glances up, smiling when he catches sight of his red cheeks. Leaning closer, he places his chin on Virgil’s shoulder and turns to whisper:

“Don’t let Roman see that if you don’t want to blush any harder.”

Now that right there is a very good point. In an effort to hide it, he takes another bite of the bread, only to frown when something’s different.

Logan seems to notice and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong? Does it taste strange?”

Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It feels gummy.”

“Really?” Logan has another bit of his own. “It doesn’t taste that way to me, perhaps…?”

“Here, try mine.”

“…no, it still tastes the same. Have you had something to drink recently?”

“Not as recently as I probably should.” Before he can blink, Logan’s holding out a glass of water. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Let’s see if this helps.”

Well, the gumminess is no longer in his mouth. He’s not sure if he can still feel it in the back of his throat. He takes another bite of the bread—and oh fuck is it good—and it seems to go away.

“That might’ve been it.” But maybe it wasn’t.

“We’ll keep an eye on it, though,” Logan says easily as if he can see where Virgil’s mind wants to go, “let us know if it changes, okay?”

“I will.”

Which is why, later, when he’s sitting out by the lake to watch the moon ripple across the surface of the water, he feels it return and coughs, coughs, coughs until something flies out of his throat.

He frowns, bending down to stare at the thing glistening in the grass. He tilts his head.

What the fuck?

Something else is still in his throat. He coughs again, and more of it shoots out, sticking to the grass with a horrid sound.

Okay, nope. He’s not dealing with this by himself.

Remus? Remus, can you help me with something?

Sure. Gimme a sec and I’ll drop in. Are you okay?

Virgil takes another look at the glistening…thing on the grass.

I don’t know.

An instant later, the water bubbles and Remus rises up, propping himself up with his tentacles as he shakes the water off. Virgil throws his arms up to protect his face from the shower of droplets.

“Oh, oops.”

He waves a hand. “It’s fine, it’s just water.”

“…yeah.”

“Do I want to know what else was in that?”

“Probably not.”

Virgil sighs as Remus clambers up to sit next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Remus’s hand cards gently through his hair before prompting him to sit up.

“What’s the problem, little monster? How can I help?”

In response, Virgil points at the glistening mess on the grass In front of him. Remus leans forward, following Virgil’s finger, frowning until he spots the mess. His eyes widen.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen that before.”

Virgil’s heart sinks. If Remus has never seen it before…

“Where’d it come from?” Remus looks over his shoulder. “Was it Ollie? Uma? One of the others?”

Virgil shakes his head.

“Really? So Roman’s babies did that? Huh, I gotta tell him, he’s gonna get a kick outta that.”

“No.”

Remus frowns at the truly quiet noise Virgil makes. He nudges him gently. “No? No what, little monster?”

“It—“ Virgil swallows the gummy thing in his mouth— “it wasn’t Roman’s.”

Remus’s frown deepens. “Then what—“

His eyes go giant when Virgil coughs up another one. It lands on the grass with a splat.

“…oh.”

Virgil turns to him so fast he can feel his neck protesting. “Oh? Oh what, what does ‘oh’ mean?”

Remus smiles. He smiles so wide it makes Virgil’s face hurt by proxy. His eyes dart back and forth between Remus and the stuff on the ground.

“Remus, what?”

“You’re changing,” Remus says softly, still smiling as he reaches out to pull Virgil close, “you’re changing, Virgil, that’s it.”

Um, excuse me, no part of that is reassuring, thank you very much.

“What do you mean I’m ‘changing?’”

“You bonded to us, Virgil,” Remus continues, “you opened that connection.”

“Okay…?”

“That means—well, it means you’re no longer fully human, little monster.”

Wait, what?

He’s—

“You mean I’m part fae now?”

Remus nods. “You’re one of us, little monster, you’re ours. Which means that some of your magic—“

“I have magic?”

“Everything has magic, Virgil. But yeah, it means through that connection your magic’s starting to get a bit of its own shape.”

Virgil looks back down at the mess. It looks…well, it doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. In fact, as he looks at it, there are parts of it that he may actually be able to call…

…pretty.

“My own shape?”

“Jan-Jan looks like a snake, yeah?”

“Except he’s got six arms.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me either. But Janny’s a snake, I’ve got tentacles, Logan runs a little colder than the rest of us, and Pat’s got an impressive sense of smell.”

“…what about Roman?”

“Roman’s magic just kinda…” Remus wiggles his fingers. “Does that. You’ve seen it.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“He spoils you.”

“…he tries.”

Remus gives him another gentle nudge to show he understands. Then he nods to the grass.

“That’s probably the start of it, little monster.”

“Will it hurt?”

The shameful question bursts out before he can stop it and he winces, curling his arms tightly around himself. Remus just wraps his arms around him too, holding him close.

“I don’t know, Virgil.” He tightens his grip. “But I do know you won’t have to do this alone.”

The dark pit in his chest softens ever so slightly. He tucks his head under Remus’s.

“I know.”

He goes to Logan next. Knocks on his door and waits patiently—okay, maybe not that patiently—for Logan to open it and tilt his head.

“You needn’t do that, you can ask for me directly if you like,” he says after he’s welcomed Virgil inside.

“I know, I just…felt better doing that.”

“I understand.” Logan smiles and adjusts his glasses. “What can I help you with?”

“I, um…” He shifts his weight from side to side. “I found something.”

“Oh? What did you find?”

“Do you remember when I said the bread tasted gummy?” Logan nods. “Well, I, um, found out why.”

Logan’s eyes widen as Virgil holds out a dish with some of the stuff on it. He takes it slowly, adjusting his glasses again as he stares down at the glistening substance. His eyes dart from it to Virgil and back.

“Remus said I was changing,” Virgil offers, “because of the bond, and I just—I just wanted—“

He swallows.

“…wanted to know if it would hurt,” he finishes lamely.

Logan takes a deep breath and sets the dish aside, reaching for his notebook and flipping it open. He scribbles something down and looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face.

“I’m incredibly glad,” he says softly, “that the bond is holding and that you are staying.”

“Wait, there was a chance it wouldn’t work?”

“There was a chance it wouldn’t be formed at all,” Logan corrects, “not that it would fade once it was made.”

“So...?”

“So you’re one of us now, Virgil,” Logan says, holding up the dish, “this proves it.”

“What is that?”

Logan’s smile grows. “I’ve got no idea. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

He beckons Virgil closes, moving across his room to…an area with machines that Virgil has never seen before. He watches as Logan carefully separates a piece of the substance to place on the bed of…what looks like a giant box but what is probably so much more complicated.

“You can come closer if you like.”

He shakes himself, looking up to see Logan considering him curiously.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Logan lets their shoulders brush together as he comes to join him. “This is one of my favorite tools.”

“What’s it called?”

“I call it the universal scanner, though I believe Roman calls it the Answer Box.”

“The what?”

“It answers most of the basic questions I can have about something, I suppose.”

“So he called it the Answer Box?”

“I don’t believe Roman’s ever claimed to be the best at naming things.”

Virgil snorts. “Then you were not there for the argument the two of them had over who was naming Oliver’s new adopted jellyfish.”

Logan shudders. “No, and I’m quite glad for that.”

The scanner begins to beep, little pulses of light going off around the stuff lying so innocuously in the middle. As it keeps going, something starts to twist in Virgil’s chest.

What if something’s wrong? What if this isn’t a sign of Virgil changing and it’s something dangerously wrong with him? What if he’s changing and it’s bad? What if they decide they don’t like him or he’s dangerous?

What if they realize the—

—the humans were right?

A rush of cool surges up his arm and he breathes, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeeze. Logan squeezes back, stepping a little closer and watching as the machine slows down. Across the room, one of Logan’s screens lights up. He gives Virgil’s hand one last squeeze before stepping away, going to look at the results.

“What does it say?”

“Chemical composition, tensile strength,” Logan murmurs, “as well as magical signature.”

“Magical signature?”

“Who it belongs to,” Logan clarifies, shooting him a smile over his shoulder, “you, Virgil.”

“I have a magical signature?”

“You do.”

He looks down at his hands, turning them over. “What does it look like?”

Logan thinks for a moment. “Do you remember the colors that your aura turns when the Claims are shown?” Virgil nods. “The colors are the various signatures.”

“So yours is…?”

“Dark blue, I believe. Roman’s is red, Remus’s is green. Patton’s is light blue.”

“Janus’s is yellow, I guess.”

“I believe he prefers ‘gold.’”

“He’s so pretentious,” Virgil mutters, “gold, honestly. Shut up, it’s fucking yellow.”

Logan chuckles. “You can tell him that if you’d like.”

“Maybe I will.”

“But to answer your question,” Logan continues, “your magical signature is your color.”

“…which is what?”

Logan looks at him strangely. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember?” Virgil shuffles nervously. “Remember what?”

“The day you were taken,” Logan says softly, sending a dark bolt through Virgil’s stomach, “and we brought you home, do you remember what happened in the garden?”

V jolts awake, flails desperately, against Roman, against Logan, against Patton.

“V, V, honey,” Patton tries, “you’re safe, honey, it’s just us, kiddo—“

“Virgil.”

Virgil breathes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Logan sends another calming pulse into the air, calling his name quietly until he can look up.

“My apologies,” Logan murmurs, “I did not mean to do that.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t—“ he takes a breath— “you didn’t mean to.”

Logan accepts it with a nod. “I merely meant that your aura was particularly strong that day,” he says quietly, “and perhaps you remembered it. But you did not, and that’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Virgil, it’s alright, there’s no need to apologize.”

He blinks, looking back at the bed of the scanner. “So what is it?”

“Simply put? It’s a web.”

Virgil blinks, longer this time. “A what?”

“A web, Virgil,” Logan repeats, “your web.”

A web, that means—that means that Virgil—he’s—

“So what am I going to be?”

“I believe…” Logan turns the screen to face him. Virgil’s eyes widen.

“A spider?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“But—“

Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil cuts himself off abruptly, all but clapping a hand over his mouth.

“But,” he prompts softly, “but what?”

“…nothing.”

He tilts his head.

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I just…” well, the more he thinks about it, the stupider it sounds. He’s trying really hard to not say it out loud, but…

“You can tell me,” Logan says softly, “I won’t be upset.”

“…but no one likes spiders,” he whispers, shame burning the inside of his throat where he can feel another web forming.

Logan is quiet for a moment. Then—

“Come here.”

Virgil’s head jerks up. “What?”

Logan holds out his arm. “Come here, little one.”

And Logan looks so sincere that he can’t help it, ducking under his arm and letting him gather him close to his chest. Logan hums gently, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and holding him tight.

“We like you, little one,” he murmurs, “and everyone else can leave you alone.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really,” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “you’re wonderful, little one.”

And Virgil opens his mouth to say something equally nice like ‘I like you too’ or even just ‘thank you,’ but nope, instead he has to cough out a web like a rude person.

Luckily, Logan just chuckles again and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I must say, I’m curious about how that works. Would you mind if I helped you figure it out?”

“Please.”

So that’s how he ends up spending a lot of time with Logan, figuring out how much web he can shoot, how to do it on command so it’s not happening all the time, how to hold onto some of it so he can pull stuff towards him like a frog—apparently Patton gets a kick out of that when he tells him—and how to make sure it’s not constantly living in the back of his throat. It’s a fucking blast, actually, and he definitely uses it when Logan gets into an argument with Remus to ‘accidentally’ cough a web into his face. It’s priceless.

That doesn’t mean it’s all good stuff, though.

He wakes up one night with his room covered in webs, sticking to every single available surface, tying him up so he can barely move. His mouth runs dry, his throat aches. He blinks a few times and can’t get the gummy feeling to go away.

Patton, Patton I—I—

Virgil? Kiddo, can I come to you?

Help me—

“Hey, hey,” he hears not a moment later, right next to his head, “hey, kiddo, shh, you’re okay, I’m right here.”

“P-Pat?”

“Yeah, honey.” Patton waves his hand and a little glow appears in the corner of the room. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Virgil breathes, wincing when he feels the strands of the webs again. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?” At Virgil’s insistent nod, he waves his hand again and they vanish. “They’re gone now, kiddo, it’s okay. Can you sit up for me?”

Patton wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him close, warm, warm, warm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I think—“ Virgil swallows— “I think that’s why the webs came out.”

Patton nods. “I can see they trapped a lot of it for you.”

Virgil blinks. “Wait, what?”

“The little buzzing things, the ones that love to fly around you.” He tips Virgil’s head to cup his cheeks, brushing his thumb along the curve of his face. “The ones I can dust off for you?”

“What about them?”

Patton nods toward the rest of the room. “Your webs were trapping most of them, kiddo, making it so you weren’t as badly affected.”

“O-oh.” He swallows again. “But I—I didn’t like it.”

“Making them when you weren’t in control?” Virgil nods. “I can understand that, it must’ve been scary to wake up with a room full of webs.”

Virgil nods again, shifting a little closer to Patton. Wait—

“If the webs were holding them,” he starts, “then why…why aren’t they coming back?”

Patton chuckles. “They know better than to try and touch you when I’m here.”

Virgil hums, burrowing into Patton’s chest and letting him idly flick away the few that dare get close. And yeah, that…that makes sense, but he would rather not be coughing up webs while he’s unconscious. For one, his throat still hurts.

Patton just gently lays his hand against Virgil’s neck and strokes, once, twice, three times, encouraging him to swallow. He does, sighing at the rush of warmth that comes with it.

“Good,” Patton murmurs, “do you want help to make the webs before you go back to sleep?”

“Help to make them?”

“We can set up a little bubble so they get caught, and so you won’t have to do it asleep.”

“You—you’d help me?”

Something flashes behind Patton’s eyes for a moment before it’s replaced by a soft smile. “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll always help you.”

Virgil shifts a bit closer. “Can we stay like this for a little longer first?”

“Of course, kiddo, you come here.”

The webs help. A little. It takes some getting used to, and there’s definitely still times when he wakes up and his throat is all gummy from nightmares, but it does help.

Then, of course, there are the new legs.

Virgil’s eyes shoot open as something cracks. He floats, unaware of what’s happening, as cracks continue to shake the floor of the room. His head rolls to the side. What’s happening? Why can’t he feel anything? There’s just this white-hot tinge to the corners of his vision, almost as if he’s springing up out of his body, what—

—no.

No, no, no, he made it out.

He was free, they were going to keep him safe, how—

He gasps.

Pain floods his senses, turning his blood white and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His jaw aches after the first few seconds and it aches, it truly does, and as his head lolls to the side all he can think about is how the wood at the bottom of the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

A golden thread inside of him snaps taut and yanks.

“Virgil? Virgil!”

“J?”

“Yes, little mouse, it’s me,” Janus’s voice calls from somewhere above him, “I’m right here, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It—it hurts, I—“

“Shh, shh—oh, darling.” A gloved hand touches his cheek to catch the tears. “Oh, little mouse, tell me what’s so awful, what’s hurting you?”

Another sharp crack rings out and Janus makes a noise.

“Virgil, you’re going to have to roll over.”

Moving of any sort feels like the actual worst, thank you very much.

“They’re trying to come out of your back, darling, any pressure on them is going to make it worse.”

Blinking through the haze of white, Virgil manages to stare up at Janus. He watches his mouth thin to a hard line.

“Come on, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, gently tucking his hand under Virgil’s cheek, “roll toward me, I’ll catch you, but you have to get off your back.”

At the gentle urging of the thread, Virgil closes his eyes and rolls.

“Good,” Janus soothes, cradling him as they lie down on the floor, “good job, darling, I’ve got you, little mouse, it’s alright.”

“What’s—what’s happening?”

“You’re changing, sweetie.” Janus rubs a circle into his lower back, away from the pain, “that’s all it is. Shh, shh, I know it hurts, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Make it stop,” he whines, burying his face shamelessly into the crook of Janus’s neck, “it hurts.”

“I know, sweetie, I know. You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

Janus wraps his arms around him carefully, avoiding the center of his back. One hand cups the back of his neck, another ruffling through his hair. Two stroke down his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to relax. The last pair sling around his hips and hold him close.

“I know it hurts, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “but you have to try and relax. Tensing up will only make it hurt more.”

“I can’t—“

“You can, sweetie, they’re almost out, it’s okay.” He tips his head to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re doing much better than I did when my arms were first growing in.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, sweetie, really…oh, easy, little mouse, shh, just focus on me…”

Virgil clings onto him as his back keeps cracking, over and over. Janus is right, though, holding onto him makes it a little easier, especially when he reaches a hand up to brush the tears away.

“I’ve got you, Virgil,” he promises, “it’s almost over, you’re doing so well, just a little more, now, stay here with me…”

“I want it to stop, it fucking hurts.”

“I know, little mouse, I know.”

“Don’t think—“ Virgil gasps against his neck as another crack rings out, quieter this time, though— “don’t think that works anymore.”

“You’ll always be my little mouse,” Janus whispers, “but you can also be my little spider.”

Virgil blinks. His back still aches, but…the blinding white pain is gone. He tries to stretch—

—and freezes when new things respond in ways that do not make sense.

“Jan?”

“You’ve got new limbs, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, giving his hair a ruffle, “can you try and move them for me?”

Oh, he was not meant to have these muscles in these places. Still, he manages to figure out which ones he’s supposed to flex only for another jolt of pain to shoot through them.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes when he winces, “I know it hurts, but you’ve got to start building up a range of motion now, otherwise they’ll get sore and stuck very quickly.”

Virgil grits his teeth and bears it, listening to Janus’s gentle instructions on how to bend, unbend, and rotate the—four?—four new limbs coming from the center of his back. He definitely sheds a few more tears into the collar of Janus’s shirt, but by the time Janus rubs the back of his neck and tells him he’s all done, for now, his back does feel a little better.

“You did so well, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I never do that again?”

Janus chuckles. “Absolutely, little spider.”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Janus’s eyes widen as a brilliant blush starts to bloom over Virgil’s cheeks. “Well.”

“No.”

“But it’s been so long since I have seen you so flustered, little spider,” he purrs, gently knuckling the side of Virgil’s face, “can you blame me?”

“Stoppit.”

“Oh, darling, is it truly still so easy?”

“Well, it’s easy once I’m already here!”

“Mm.”

Virgil does not squeak, thank you very much, as Janus sits up and pulls him fully into his lap.

“And where is here, little spider,” he hums, bringing one hand up to cup his chin, “right…here?”

Well, there go Virgil’s speaking abilities.

Janus chuckles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you speechless, darling.”

Virgil just mumbles and throws his arms around him.

“Oh, it’s okay, little spider,” Janus murmurs, softer this time, “I’m done now, you have my word.”

“Mean.”

“Yes, yes, I know, I’ve been very rude to you.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

As an answer, he feels hands begin to rub gently at the muscles in his back, encouraging the last bit of cramps loose. An exhale tears itself out of his chest as he sags forward.

“Good,” comes the soft whisper, “good, little spider, just relax, I’ve got you.”

Virgil mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Hurts.”

“Still?” At his nods, Janus makes a noise of sympathy and redoubles his efforts. “It’s okay, little spider, I’ve got you, you’re here with me.”

Something dark shifts in his stomach again. He tucks his head firmly under Janus’s chin and takes a shaky breath.

“What is it, darling?”

“When I woke up,” he mumbles, “thought it was—that I—“

He swallows.

“…wasn’t sure if I was…back or not.”

Janus stills. The dark thing in the pit of Virgil’s stomach snaps.

“You are here,” Janus says, a growl tinging the edge of his voice, “you are here, with me, and you are safe.”

Arms wrap tightly around him.

“None of them will touch you again,” he promises, “I have you. I have you, little spider, you’re safe.”

Virgil just sits there, basking in the warm, golden glow, as Janus wraps the threads of Reality around them.

“Keep me?”

“I’ll keep you, little spider, I’ll always keep you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

One last kiss pressed to his forehead. “Always.”

The limbs are…interesting. The first time Janus takes him to the mirror to see them, Virgil almost runs away.

They look like spider legs, all segmented and hairy, but they’re a little too…purple to be just normal spider’s legs. Janus walks him carefully through how to stretch them, how to use them, how to turn them this way and that until it feels a little more like Virgil’s supposed to have them. He doesn’t seem to have to build up their strength as he would a new arm or leg—well, a humanoid arm or leg—but figuring out how to use them takes…a little longer than he’d like.

And he never quite gets over how…wrong it looks.

Freak.

He does his best to hide it. It’s not like it isn’t expected, people don’t normally spontaneously grow limbs like, partway through their life anyway, let alone spider legs, so an adjustment period is expected, but…

Freak.

All things considered, he thinks he’s doing pretty well. He hasn’t lied to anyone—not that he really could—and no one’s asked him flat-out if he feels like they’re awful or anything, but…

Freak.

Then he makes his way back to his room as the sun sets one day and Roman is there, leaning up against the side of the house, waiting for him.

He looks up and smiles, waving to Virgil and beckoning him closer. Virgil goes, valiantly suppressing the shudder at how fucking warm Roman is as a hand comes up to cup his cheek.

Judging by the smile on his face, it’s not successful, but hey, he tried.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, “can we talk for a moment?”

Virgil nods.

“Thank you, sweetheart, do you want to go inside, or…?”

“Sure.”

Roman lets Virgil lead him inside and pull him to sit down on the bed. He reaches out to push Virgil’s hair away from his face.

“Do you know why I’m here, sweetheart?”

When Virgil shakes his head, he scoots a little closer and rests his hand flat against his back, just below where the legs come out.

“…oh.”

Roman nods, rubbing little circles. “What’s troubling you, little honeybee?”

Virgil huffs, gesturing over his shoulder. “Don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm, Janus said you’d say that,” he murmurs, shifting a little closer and lifting Virgil’s chin, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

Virgil shuts his eyes. A web crawls up into the back of his throat and he swallows it down, willing the buzzing things to stay away, held at bay only by the web still in his throat and the insistence that everything is going to be fine.

“…freak,” he mumbles eventually, much to Roman’s surprise, “they called me a freak.”

Roman’s hand stills on his back.

“I jus’—“ fuck, why is he crying?—“I jus’—they made sense, and I—“

“Don’t, sweetheart,” Roman says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Virgil’s, “don’t do that to yourself.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lets Roman pull him closer, fighting down the urge to sob.

“Yes, that’s it, come here—come sit with me—there,” he murmurs, sitting Virgil in his lap, “you’re not a freak, Virgil.”

He huffs. “Easy for you to say.”

Roman pulls back, frowning. “Why?”

Fuck. Well, now’s he got to explain himself.

“Um—“ and great, Roman’s not even doing anything and he’s bright red— “you don’t have any of—“ he waves to the spider legs— “you look like a normal human.”

He hesitates.

“…and you’re really pretty.”

Roman blinks. His lips part and his breath leaves him in a rush. Virgil winces.

“Sweetheart, do you think you don’t have value if you’re not pretty?”

“I mean…”

“No,” Roman growls, sitting up a little straighter and cupping V’s face in his hands, “no, Virgil, pretty isn’t some kind of rent you pay to exist in the world. You don’t owe anyone that, sweetheart.”

Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman holds him tightly.

“You have more to offer than just your outward appearance,” he says firmly, “so much more.”

“But I—I’m not—“ Virgil swallows. “I can’t do anything.”

“What do you mean you can’t do anything, sweetheart?”

“You guys, you can all—“ he waves his hands—“do things. I can’t. I’m just…here.”

“Oh,” Roman breathes as his face truly falls, “oh, little honeybee, you don’t have to be useful to be wanted.”

Wait.

What?

Virgil doesn’t—he doesn’t have to—

“What?”

Roman nods, pulling him closer still, “you don’t, sweetheart, we want you. We will always want you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

Oh.

“You’re mine, little honeybee, as long as you want to be,” he murmurs quietly, “you don’t need to do anything to earn my trust or affection. It’s yours.”

Well, now Virgil feels stupid. The spider legs twitch unhappily over his shoulder. Roman catches it.

“Still not used to them yet, I see,” he murmurs, “that’s alright. I’m not trying to tell you you’re not allowed to feel upset, sweetheart, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Can I help,” he asks softly, “can I help you see they’re nothing to be ashamed of?”

“How?”

“Has anyone touched them yet,” Roman asks, “other than to help you learn how to use them?”

He shakes his head.

“May I touch you, sweetheart?” Virgil nods and Roman smiles. “Thank you. Now, come here—yes, that’s it—“

Virgil leans right up against Roman’s chest, letting him curl his arms around to scratch gently, gently at the very center of the four legs. It sends a jolt through him, every nerve buzzing.

“You don’t have to think right now,” Roman hushes when Virgil can’t find the words to say exactly how much this means, “not if you don’t want. You can just sit and feel, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Warm. Warm hands rubbing firmly up the limbs as Virgil’s frantic thoughts grind slowly to a halt. Then Roman’s hands find a spot just below the third segment and he groans, low and dark.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Roman soothes, squeezing just enough to rewire more of Virgil’s brain, “I’m right here, little honeybee, I’ve got you.”

It’s so much. It’s so much and every single hair on Virgil’s body stands. He hears Roman chuckle from far, far away and all he can do is whine. Roman shushes him, calling him ‘noisy’ in the most affectionate voice but it’s so much.

And yet, it feels like something’s missing. Like there’s an extra joint that isn’t quite sitting right yet, like there’s a layer in between the spider legs and his back. Roman keeps touching him, holding him close, but it’s not right.

“Roman,” he manages, just as Roman’s fingers slide around the base joint, “Roman—“

“Yes, little honeybee?”

“Magic.”

Roman stills and Virgil tries not to whine at the loss. “What?”

“Use your magic,” he says again, trying to clear his head enough to ask properly, “it feels—I can’t—they’re not mine yet.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “And you think that if I use my magic, it will help?”

“Please?”

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart, you know I can’t ever say no to you.” Roman ruffles his hair. “But you know the rules, sweetheart.”

Virgil nods and sits up, leaning away to look at Roman properly. “If it’s too much or it feels like it wants me to want, I tell you and we stop.”

“And…?”

“And if I don’t like something.”

“Good.” Roman takes a deep breath. “Alright.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, little honeybee.”

“…still don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm.” Roman tilts his head.

Virgil shifts as a smirk crawls over his face.

“Janus told me something else, you know,” he says softly as he reaches to coax Virgil back into his lap.

“…what?”

Red sparks curl up from his fingers. Virgil closes his eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his back or the legs again, only for them to fly opened, startled when Roman cups his chin.

“Wha—“

Oh.

Oh, no—Roman’s eyes darken a little, the sparks fizzing on the soft spot under his chin. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer.

“Hello, little spider.”

Virgil will deny the squeak he makes until the end of time. Roman chuckles and runs his finger lazily across Virgil’s jaw. The magic trails after him.

“Pretty little spider,” he coos, voice slipping back into that light, sweet, gentle thing that wriggles straight into Virgil’s chest, “blushy little spider.”

“R-Roman!”

“Hmm?” The finger swipes along the other side of his jaw. “What is it, little spider?”

All that comes out is a keen.

“You asked for this, little spider,” Roman reminds, tapping the tip of Virgil’s nose, “you asked for the magic.”

“The magic, not the flirting!”

“Oh, the flirting’s for me, little spider,” he coos, “just for fun. You’re so lovely, I can’t help it.”

“Mmm!”

“Is this not what you wanted, little spider?” When Virgil can’t say anything, Roman chuckles but lifts his fingers away to let him catch his breath. “What do you want, little spider?”

“You know what I want.”

“I do,” he says softly, “but I need you to say it for me. I don’t want to do anything without your consent.”

“…will you touch my legs, please?”

Roman smiles, running his finger up Virgil’s neck, up under his chin, lifting to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good, little spider,” he whispers, reaching around to leave a small trail down the middle of Virgil’s back, shushing the light whine, “just relax, now, I’ve got you.”

Virgil melts, all but collapsing into Roman as his magic trails lightly up and down the legs, over his back, sometimes fizzling into his hair as he kisses Virgil’s head. His legs start to move of their own accord, pushing up into Roman’s hands as he rocks them slowly back and forth.

“Are you falling asleep, little spider? Does that feel good?” He feels Roman smile against his forehead. “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

The last of Roman’s magic fizzles away but his hands stay, rubbing, stroking, petting up and down, up and down. Roman’s so warm.

“Just rest, little spider,” Roman hushes, “you’re alright now, shh…”

He falls asleep to moonlight streaming in through the window, his head pillowed on Roman’s chest.

Somewhere, a purple thread winds itself into a braid next to a red thread, a green thread, a light blue thread, a dark blue thread, and a yellow thread.

‘Golden.’

He’s so pretentious, it’s fine.

Virgil’s home.

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cowboymirio · 3 years

Text

They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake!

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up.

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’)

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY??

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them) flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now.

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh

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sugarsugarmoon · 4 years

Text

At Night, By the Fire

Summary: Camping with your boyfriend Kim Namjoon turns into a very interesting night. knj x reader

Rating: M

Genre: smut, pwp

Warnings: casual marijuana use, vaginal fingering, slight degradation/dirty talk, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, dom!Namjoon vibes, sub!reader vibes

a/n: Been meaning to write this for a while. I hope you enjoy it.

Spending the night camping near the Great Salt Lake wasn’t how you planned on spending my last night with my boyfriend, who you only get to see once a month at best. But honestly, you’ve spent the night sleeping in a Pathfinder near a water treatment plant on Lake Superior just to spend a little time with him, so this actually seemed pretty luxurious. You have a tent, a cooler, firewood, food, and actual campsite.

It’s hot, and you feel the sweat starting to dot the skin on your back and brow. The two of you had gotten out of the car to do a small hike that ended with a scenic overlook on the lake. The sun beats down on your hair and face, and you feel yourself regretting the walk almost instantly. Midsummer is not the time to go for a hike in the midday sun with no trees around. You follow another trail that leads to a tall rock and a look over the west side of the lake. It’s certainly a less exciting view, but it is still beautiful.

The expanse of the salt lake makes your jaw drop. It’s such a huge body of water. At times while you’re looking at it, you forget that it’s just a big lake. You can’t see the other side of it, just the mountains peaking up like a watercolor image on the other side. Looking out at the water, Namjoon slips his hand around your waist and pulls you close to him. His lips meet the soft, slightly sticky skin on your neck.

You make your way back to the campsite, complaining a little bit about how close to the dumpster you are. You wonder what it would be like to swim in the lake before the sun goes down, but, as you glance at the beach, you see that it’s crowded. You don’t want to deal with other people if you don’t have to, and you are so happy to just be in this place with Namjoon.

You set up the tent more quickly than you had in the past, finally getting used to the set up. You had your tent in your car from a camping trip that you’d taken before you’d driven to the Utah capitol to meet up with the man who you loved. There were limited times and places that you could see one another, and you were happy to meet him somewhere that you could explore together.

When you walk away from the tent, you see Namjoon sitting on the tailgate of the car, drinking his soda, smiling a goofy smile at you.

“What?” you ask, thinking he’s laughing at the way you set up the tent.

“I just love you so much,” he responds, standing and crossing over to you.

He plants his lips on your forehead, and his smile seems to spread to you. You lean up and press your lips to his.

“How do you feel about dinner?” he asks, gesturing toward the small stockpile of sandwich supplies.

You smile and gallop a little over to the car. He’d been making fun of you since you’d told him that you make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the world.

“Oh? You looking to get in on my world famous skills?”

You grab the peanut butter, jelly, and bread and make your way toward the picnic table. You open each of the containers, then you look around feeling a little embarrassed.

“I...I don’t have a knife…” you mumble to him just loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the campsite.

He laughs and pulls from his pocket a camping spoon that you must have left sitting in the back of the car with the rest of the camping supplies. You hang your head sarcastically, closing the space between the two of you, grabbing the spoon, kissing his lips, and making your way back to the picnic table.

“Just make a bunch,” he says. “We’ll keep them and eat them whenever we want.”

You happily make the sandwiches while you put on a pithy, indie pop song on your phone. You dance a little as you make them, creating a pile of sandwiches on the table. Your fingers are a little sticky with the residue of peanut butter, and you cheerfully lick them clean. Namjoon sneaks up behind you, and he whispers in your ear.

“You’re so cute shaking your hips like that.”

You giggle and push your ass back against him, wiggling your hips to the beat.

“Oh, are you going to be a naughty little slut?” he asks as you keep gyrating.

You can’t help the giggle from turning into a full-blown laugh. You grab one of the PBJs from the table and hand it to him over your shoulder. You grab one for yourself and happily munch on it as you grind against your boyfriend.

The two of you goof off and laugh and play for the rest of the evening until the sun starts to fade over the west side of the lake. The pastel oranges and pinks paint the sky as you start to build up the base of the fire in the firepit. Namjoon tells you that he wants to help, but he kind of has no idea how to start a campfire, so you take the lead. It’s windy, so the flame doesn’t immediately catch. Eventually, you get the small spark built up into a blaze.

The sun disappears completely toward the ocean, and the temperature immediately drops. You wrap your sweater around your shoulders, even though you are wearing a skirt. Being around Namjoon makes you want to be able to drop your panties at any moment. The skirt made that extremely easy.

You talk, smoke some weed, and sit close to each other as the fire continues to crackle next to you. The insects and the fire combine to make a soundtrack to your perfect night with Namjoon.

You make a cheeky comment to Namjoon about not wearing underwear, and he slips his fingers up under the hem of your skirt. The fingertips skate over your folds, and you shiver slightly. You are always wet around Joon, but you feel yourself growing even wetter.

“Lie down,” he commands in your ear.

You whimper slightly from the back of your throat, and you press your chest against the cold metal of the bench of the picnic table. Namjoon slides his fingers over your folds from behind, and you shudder. You press back against him, and he puts his hand on your shoulder. He presses you down harder into the bench, the pressure hurting slightly.

His fingers slide into your entrance, the wetness making them slide with ease. He curls his fingers, and you feel yourself immediately cumming around them. The pressure within you releases in small moans spilling over your lips. You try to push his fingers further into you, but his other hand holds you still.

As you come down from your orgasm, his hand still presses you into the bench, and his fingers still work inside of you. You feel the pleasure building up inside of you again, nearly overflowing immediately.

“Cum for me,” he goads from behind you in a sultry voice.

The pleasure overcomes you completely, and the moans that escape your mouth are louder this time. He keeps going, and you’re not sure that he ever intends to stop working your sensitive spots, waiting to overwhelm you until you can’t possibly cum anymore.

You weren’t nearly there yet though.

HIs fingers continue to work inside of you, and he slips one finger over your clit. It sends you over the edge again. Your moans start to transform into cries as his fingers curl up.

He laughs to himself. “You want everyone at this campground to know what a filthy little slut you are for me, don’t you?”

You can hardly even process his words as you let out an “mhm” and nod your head. Your face presses into the cold metal. You feel the drool from your open mouth pooling next to your cheek on the bench. You wiggle your hips slightly against your boyfriend’s fingers.

“Can’t get enough, can you, my naughty whore?” Namjoon continues to gently taunt you as he fingers you.

The hand that’s on your shoulder travels up your back and into your hair. He pulls it slightly, so your face is lifted an inch or so off the bench. He pushes his fingers deeper inside you, knowing exactly what to do to drive you wild. A pressure and pleasure that you’ve never felt before starts to build inside of you. It feels like something is going to burst. You can’t control the primal animalistic sounds that are pouring from your mouth.

“You gonna cum for me again, baby?” Namjoon asks in a husky voice.

You nod slightly, and the pressure begins to escape from inside you. Something is bursting, gushing forth. For a second you can’t think, but you are unsure what is happening.

“Oh my nasty little princess. Are you squirting for me?” Namjoon teases as his fingers continue to work inside of you.

You ride his fingers and your orgasm. When you finally come down, the pressure inside of you is overwhelming and uncomfortable. His fingers slow, and you wriggle away as much as you can with his fingers in your hair. He slowly lets your head back down, gently running his fingers over your back. Namjoon takes his fingers from inside you, and you hear him lick them off. With both hands, he grabs your ass, plants a kiss on one cheek, then he pulls your skirt back over your ass.

“My naughty little girl is tired, huh?” he asks as he runs his fingers tenderly through your hair.

You nod your head lazily, starting to become aware of how wet your skirt is. That had never happened to you before, and you felt a little bit confused about what had happened. The wet fabric sits against you, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything about the discomfort you’re feeling.

Namjoon pulls you up gently from the bench and wraps his arms around you. You bury your head in his chest, brain completely fuzzy. Everything seems to have a shiny vignette around it, maybe from nearly hyperventilating, maybe from the pleasure, maybe from being so deeply in love. You can’t be quite sure.

Namjoon plants a kiss upon your forehead, your nose, and each of your cheeks. “I love you silly, baby.”

Your eyes turn up to his face. You feel like your face is going to be permanently stuck in a smile while you look at him.

“I love you too, my love,” you whisper and press your lips against his jawline.

You cuddle with one another near the fire for the rest of the evening, relishing every single moment that you have together. You can’t sleep until the twilight of morning starts to spill over the sandy campground, and you finally fall asleep in his strong arms, sleepy and happy.

#namjoon smut #btswritingcafe #btsguild #namjoon x reader #bts smut #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtanfairygarden #heartsforbts #rm smut #rm x reader #bts namjoon #bts rm #rm fanfic #knj x reader #knj smut #oops #posted the rough draft first

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years

Text

MC having her wisdom teeth removed || Mystic Messenger Edition! - RFA + Saeran

a/n: I was requested this headcanon for Obey Me and I mistakenly wrote this instead lol. Later, I wrote and posted the original request, but I liked how these turned out <3 Enjoy~

Zen

He carries you bridal style as soon as the doctor’s over

“I knew we were getting married!!!!!!!” you giggle

This man is already dead

Of course he’s thought about marrying you but he’s about to drop you on the spot

When he carries you inside your apartment, you squeal.

“Our new home, Zenny! Baby, this place is so cute!!”

It’s… it’s your own apartment, MC. We’ve been living together for two years, get on board.

He helped you get into bed, but when he tries to leave, he feels you tugging on his pants.

“You need anything, babe?”

“This is wedding night, come love me, please”

“MC, rest a bit and--”

“But I need some loviiiiiing, Zenny. Gimme some loving, hubby”

This man is so flustered about you saying all these things about weddings and especially wedding nights. He manages to tuck you into bed and goes to the living room. He’s about to start making dinner when he listens to your voice again.

“Seveeeen, Zen doesn’t wanna give me a wedding night!”

He returns to the bedroom to see you managed to find your phone. He tucks you into bed again and then feels your phone buzzing from numerous notifications from the chat. He’s sure Seven just told everyone about your call.

“Best husband ever” you mumble and finally close your eyes, nuzzling into your sheets. Zen smiles softly.

He’s so in love with you, he might just ask you to marry him anyday now.

Yoosung

He helps you get into a cab and holds your hand on the way home.

He thinks he doesn’t have anything to worry about until a song comes on the radio.

“All the time I turn around brothas gather round” it’s mostly babbling than singing, so Yoosung just watches you, amused. “Always looking at me up and down looking at my…” you proceed to moan really loudly, startling both your boyfriend and the driver

He apologizes profusely, tipping him extra when you reach home

He helps you sit on the couch and you start mumbling again.

“Baby shark, do do do do do…”

Yoosung can’t help but laugh and think how cute you look.

But once again…

“Ahhh, push it, push it real good…” you sing, waving your arms randomly. “Oh baby, baby, oh baby baby… push it good”

You’re gonna kill Yoosung one of these days omg

Jaehee

“Hey cutie” you greet her. She doesn’t think much of it and just helps you get on a cab and then back home.

“You inviting me to your home? Wow, you nasty. I like that” you slur, tripping a little before crashing into her couch. Jaehee raises an eyebrow, concerned.

“Don’t be shy, you’re very pretty. Like… really pretty. Are you gay?” you ask with a giggle. Your girlfriend sits next to you, trying to contain her laugh.

“I’m actually bi”

“Then I have a chance!” you laugh. “Wanna date me? I can be so good for you, baby, come on gimme some sugar”

You then proceed to do kissing noises at her, which ends up with Jaehee cackling a loud laugh.

She doesn’t want to ever forget you like this.

Jumin

When he puts his arm around your shoulders to steady you while you walk, you take his hand away.

“I’m married, stop!” you scold him, flaunting your wedding ring to him. You cross your arms against your chest. “Don’t make a move, my husband should be here any minute now”

He tries and convince you he’s your husband, but you’re not listening to any of that

He finds it adorable, though.

Jumin takes your arm and help you walk, saying he will respect your relationship.

When you reach the penthouse, you say hello to Elizabeth the third. “Elly, mommy’s here! Where’s your daddy? When’s daddy coming home?”

Jumin’s whole face turns red. He ignored completely you calling his beloved pet “Elly” just because he had never heard you refer to Elizabeth as your daughter. It was like a little family and he felt his heart fluttering at your words.

“Where’s daddy, Elly?” you ask again and watch her walk to Jumin and rub her face on his leg. You furrow your eyebrows, confused.

“Jumin will be here in a second” Jumin assures you. “Why don’t you take a nap?”

You eye him with suspicion but then let yourself fall ungraciously to the couch. “Lemme know when he gets home, I miss him” you grumble.

He’s so going to make a family with you someday.

Saeyoung

Not only does this man encourages you to say the dumbest and funniest things but he will record everything to torment you later

“My eyes are thirsty!” you cry, while Saeyoung holds his phone in front of you. “Baby, my eyes are thirsty!”

“Who do you love the most?” he asks.

“My baby” you reply with a grin.

“And who’s your baby?”

You take a few moments before replying.

“...I’m baby”

“What do you think about Jumin?”

“He should get laid”

“Jaehee?”

“I’m a bit gay for her, no lie”

“Zen?”

“You love him more than me!!!” you cry again, putting your hands on your face. “Because his hair is longer you love him more than meeeee”

“I love you the most, MC”

“Fuck you, you made my eyes thirsty” you mumble, looking away from him.

Someone help Saeyoung, he’s about to pee himself from all the laughing.

Saeran

He didn’t expect you to be so confused when he finally got you home after the surgery.

As soon as you look at Saeyoung you gasp. You look at him again, then back at Saeran, back at Saeyoung and start crying.

“Who’s my baby!?” you whimper. Saeran rolls his eyes while Saeyoung starts laughing loudly.

“I’m Saeran” your boyfriend sighs, sitting down on the couch.

“No, I’m Saeran. You’re Saeyoung!” Saeyoung says, sitting on your other side. You look back and forth between the twins.

“Hey, stop, don’t break my girlfriend”

“MC, look, look!” Saeyoung says. He put a serious and bored face. “I’m Saeran, I’m no fun and all I do is eat flowers and hoard ice-cream on the fridge”.

Saeran rolls his eyes again.

“I don’t eat flowers, why don’t you just g--”

“SAERAN!” you yell, hugging Saeyoung, who starts laughing again. “Baby, where were you, huh?”

Before anything else happens, Saeyoung leaves you with Saeran, even if his laughter can still be heard from his bedroom.

“You’re such a mess” he whispers. You smile at him and let yourself fall on the couch.

“Yup, but I’m Saeran’s mess. I’m my baby’s mess” you mumble.

He can’t help but smile as well, as he covers you body with a blanket to keep you warm while you sleep.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #jumin han #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #hyun ryu #mm zen #mysme zen

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boymeetsweevil · 4 years

Text

binary stars

Grouping: Reader x Bff!Hyuck

Word Count: ~8.4k

Warnings/Themes: friends to lovers, insecurity, pining, jealous hyuck, like a teaspoon of suggestiveness, yuta is here because i love him

Prompt: “bff!hyuck + friends to lovers. college au and slightly nsfw or however nsfw u wanna make it”

A/N: This commissioned fic is part of the Changes with Luv project, hosted by FicsWithLuv. Here you can find more information about the project, cause, places to donate, and ways to commission a piece or offer your services if you are a content creator. Thank you!

The food court is crowded when you get there. It’s a bit later than ideal after morning classes followed by a study session in the library.

“What are you gonna get,” Donghyuck asks while slinging an arm around your shoulder.

While squinting up at the menu up ahead, he whispers into your ear. Just to make sure his question doesn’t get lost in the chatter around you. You still get goosebumps, though.

“All I know is that it can’t be a bagel. I’m starting to get sick of those.” You rub your arm and he mistakes it for you being cold.

Donghyuck pulls you closer while mumbling half to himself and half to you about what he’ll get.

“I heard they have this new sandwich thing. Johnny told me it has hash browns as the bread.” He peers down at you. “You could try that.”

“Did he say if it was filling or not?”

“No, but if it’s too big for you to eat, we can share it. Or you can use some of my tupperware when we get home,” he says.

When he says ‘home’, he really just means his dorm. There’s a section in the communal first floor kitchen that belongs to him, and it houses all the things his mom sent him with for survival years ago.

Home. As in ‘where you have a place too’. It’s a small difference from your classmates and other friends who say ‘the dorm’ or ‘my place’. But it’s also one of the many ways in which Donghyuck invites you in and makes you feel special. It’s one of the reasons you fell for your best friend.

“Why don’t you just get it?” You try to wriggle out of his grasp but he doesn’t notice and tightens up as the line moves up a bit. “It sounds like you’re the one who wants it, not me.”

“I would...but I think it’s one of the ‘deluxe’ sandwiches.” He pivots so he can envelope you fully from behind, puppy dog eyes out and at the ready. “And I’m in the red again this week.”

“Okay, why are you always in the red? What are you spending your money on?”

You miss the way his eyes drift down instinctively to the empty frappe cup you hold.

“I don’t know. The money just escapes me.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not an econ major, then.”

“Hey!”

He squeezes you tightly from behind and starts to shake you around like a ragdoll. A couple people in line turn at the sudden commotion while you scrabble at the tight vice his arms make around you.

Moments like these are the ones where, if you step back, you could convince yourself that Donghyuck was your boyfriend instead of just your best friend. But you know better than to think that you and he are in the same league. Even if you were, you’d probably be at the back of the line because he’s almost too easy to love.

Donghyuck is the whole package. When he’s not lighting up a room with his charisma and humor, he’s stealing everyone’s attention with his handsome face. It doesn’t help that he’s naturally flirty and generous with touch. Sometimes you think that maybe there’s some side of him that only you get to see, but other times—

“Hyuck!”

You and Donghyuck turn at the same time to see Mila, one of Donghyuck’s department-mates running towards your spot in the slow moving line. The moment stops being private and suddenly there’s a sort of shame bubbling up inside of you. Maybe it’s because you know that people think you’re an odd pair, that Donghyuck is misguided and charitable for hanging out with you. He’s never mentioned it, and the one time you did he blew up at you about it. But still, there’s something about third party appraisal that makes you feel like you’re in someone else’s spot. For all you know it could be Mila’s spot. She’s bright too. Not as bright as Donghyuck, but brighter than you. Since she started coming around Donghyuck, you’ve accepted this. The fact that she now uses your nickname for him makes you feel a whole new type of loss, though.

“Hey,” you both greet her.

She lays a hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly. “Hey, how are you? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh, what for?”

“You owe me a movie, silly.”

“Like a physical movie?”

You snort at his obliviousness and Mila responds with a quick glance at the way he drapes himself over you.

“No! Remember when you gave me those movie recommendations?”

“Yeah. To watch on your own time. You don’t have to watch them with me just because I mentioned them.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

She pouts, grabs his free arm and tugs just hard enough to jostle him. With his arms wrapped around you, you stumble forward when he does.

“Oh, sorry.” Her hands come out like they’re going to steady you, but they get nowhere close enough to actually do the job. “Didn’t see you there.”

“She said ‘hi’,” Donghyuck chimes in before you can make up some excuse for why it’s okay that you almost fell on your face.

“I must have just missed you then,” she gazes down at you, “You’re so quiet.”

“Just watching the line,” you say.

The line moves forward and Mila moves with you. Clearly she’s not planning on leaving. She’s waiting you out and it’s working. You feel awkward enough that you need to get out, even if it means you cede something to Mila.

“Hyuck,” You turn and lay your hand on the back of his neck. It looks like a comfortable hand on the shoulder that went too far north, but that trajectory was calculated. He shivers like you know he will because he always does. It’s been a sensitive spot since you met him.

“Huh?” His voice is already sounding far away.

“I’m gonna go wait at a table. You can order for me.”

You make a point to pat at the arms he has wrapped around your middle still. The motion drags Mila’s eyes to the point of contact and she smirks a little. Donghyuck might only see you as a friend, but Mila mistakenly sees you as an obstacle. It’s petty, but you kind of want to make her think she has to work a little hard to get to him. Even if you don’t stand a chance.

In the end, the flash in Mila’s eyes is worth having to go find a place to sit during the lunch rush. You replay the moment over in your head, barely watching where you’re going in the crowded food court until you run into someone. If it weren’t for the quick pair of hands grabbing your upper arms at the last second, you might have taken a rather nasty fall.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

The hands disappear once you’re stable while the voice lingers. It’s familiar but you don’t know why. When you take too long to put a name to a face, the person chuckles at you. At the very least, this mystery person is uniquely handsome with pretty teeth.

“You don’t remember me?”

“Can I have a hint?”

“What if you pretend to throw up on my shirt? Then would you remember?”

“Oh god,” you cover your face with your hands. Suddenly you recall the party last week where the pizza didn’t agree with you. “Yuta,” you groan.

“Hmm. My name sounds nice when you say it like that.”

You feel your face get hot as you peek at him from between your fingers. Last week you’d fallen face first into his lap while he was innocently sitting on a sofa. You’d proceeded to throw up onto his chest after he asked you for your name.

“Just kill me. It’d be less painful than this.”

“I don’t know. I think me still trying to hit on you afterward just for your boyfriend to send me murder eyes and whisk you away was way more painful than a little bit of vomit.”

“My boyfriend?”

“That little Hyucko guy, right?”

Yuta points behind you, and you turn to find him gesturing at Donghyuck. He’s still with Mila, but he’s clearly watching you talk with Yuta instead of engaging in small talk in line. You wave him off, hoping he’s not thinking you’re in danger.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sucks for him, then.”

Furrowing your brows, you return your gaze back to Yuta.

“But good for me,” he continues, “I don’t have to feel bad for asking you for your number now.”

“M-my number?”

“Is there another way to get to know the girl who threw up on me?”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

Yuta hands you his phone with a smile that looks so triumphant, you have to turn away slightly. His gaze on you is a bit too open, too pleased. You’re definitely not used to this type of attention, but you can’t say you’re mad at him for it. After typing in your number and name, he takes the phone back and reads your name out loud. When you nod in confirmation, he smiles wider.

“So, what are you studying then?”

“I’m studying political science.”

Yuta lets out a low whistle. “Sounds tough.”

“Sometimes, yeah. What are you studying?”

“Astronomy.”

“That’s very romantic.” He smiles in response.

“I suppose so, yeah. I guess you’d have to be romantic to look into an abyss full of flaming gas balls and think that’s fascinating.”

“Sorry to hear about your hot balls. You should probably get that checked out. I’m studying literature.”

Donghyuck shows up with a tray full of your food and takeout containers.

Yuta raises an eyebrow. “‘Sup?”

“What are you doing here? Did you come to bully the baristas?”

“Clever,” Yuta eyes him up and down. “You know I’m a grad student in the astronomy department. How do you forget every time?”

“Ah, you’re right. How could I forget. So what are you, like, 45 now?”

“Hyuck!”

“Sorry,” he sniffs. Clearly, he’s not sorry.

He trudges off to the nearest empty table to put the food down long enough to pack it up. You follow behind, with Yuta trailing alongside you.

“I’m sorry about him. Usually he’s...well, actually he is kind of like that.”

“I don’t mind. I just wanted to say that it was nice to finally meet you officially,” he starts off.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Same.”

Something about your response must be funny because Yuta laughs again to himself before shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Can I call you some time?”

“Me?”

He laughs again. “Yes, you.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

You say your goodbyes to Yuta. It’s awkwardly formal because you’re not sure how these things usually go. When you finish waving a stilted hand at him, you turn around to find the food has been packed up and Donghyuck is fuming silently behind you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t get why he of all people decided to butt in.”

He starts walking towards the exit, long legs eating up the distance at a speed that means you have to jog a little.

“You sure something’s not up? Because I don’t really get what we were doing that was so important in the first place. Not much to butt in on anyway.”

“Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

He huffs and continues speed walking. “We had plans to eat lunch at my place. And he delayed that. Now I’m even hungrier.”

“I thought we were eating at your place because you weren’t hungry enough to eat there.”

“I—I mean, yeah. But I started getting hungry in line.”

You point at the wrapped muffin in his hand. “Couldn’t you have just eaten that?”

“This...is for later.”

Normally you’d try to figure out what it is that’s making Donghyuck so pissy. But your phone starts chiming and by the time you got to his front door, the little message notification on your phone had gone off a dozen times—all of them from Yuta as you message him on and off. Donghyuck settles for sighing dramatically every time you check your phone.

“Doesn’t he have, like, blimps to stare at? This is too much.”

“Since when is there a limit on how much I text someone?”

“There’s not but—isn’t this a lot? You just met him today.”

“Technically we met last weekend.”

He scowls but admits the point with a wave of his hand and a bite of his food.

“Still. I don’t even text you that much.” Donghyuck sits back in his chair before scoffing. “And no one should text you more than me. I’m your best friend.”

“But what if he was my boyfriend?”

“He’s not,” he snaps. There’s enough intensity in his voice to surprise you both. He reels it in a bit with an apologetic tilt of his shoulders over his plate. “Sorry. But—have you heard what people say about him? He’s a complete dick to the people he sleeps with. Plus, he’s ancient.”

“He’s only turning 26 in October.”

“So you know his birthday now?”

“Yes?” You put your napkin down, hash browns nearly finished. “And maybe I’m using him too. Bet you didn’t think of that.”

“Oh,” he says after a beat.

“Anyway, I don’t get why you’re so mad about this.”

“M’not mad,” he mumbles.

“Sure.”

You continue texting Yuta as you eat your lunch. Donghyuck huffs as he discards his trash and goes to his room to change into more comfortable clothes. While he’s gone, you glance at your phone guiltily.

It’s not that you’re so engrossed with the smalltalk with Yuta that you can’t put your phone down. Honestly, you want to just put your phone down and go plaster yourself to your best friend. But standing less than 2 feet away from Donghyuck and still feeling like he was unreachable earlier at the cafeteria really knocked some sense into you. If Donghyuck was the sun, you were merely a planet caught in his pull, orbiting around him. He wasn’t meant to orbit around you.

Donghyuck emerges from his room looking only mildly pouty at this point and in a sweatshirt and joggers. Seeing him in pajamas is your favorite thing. It’s why you like hanging out at his place so much because as soon as you settle in, he changes out of his regular clothes.

“Are you staying?” There’s only a touch of petulance still lingering in his voice.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Of course.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you have to turn away under the guise of finishing the last bites of your lunch to hide a shy smile. The words sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s not meant in the way you wish.

You settle down on the couch to get some more work done, but the hash browns sneak up on you. Donghyuck watches silently from his battered copy of Dante’s Inferno at your eyes drooping closed. He’s known you long enough to know the signs of your food comas when he sees them. He shuts his book after marking the page and gets up from his spot on the carpet.

“Come on,” he shakes your upper arm lightly.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Let’s watch some TV.”

“I’m working, I can’t just—”

“You've been on the same page for 15 minutes.

“How would you know?”

“Because I stopped reading 20 minutes ago.”

By now, any traces of his strange anger are replaced by smug amusement. You let yourself be manhandled off your seat and take the trek to his bedroom. He flips through channels while you can dig something up from his closet to change into. Donghyuck has a strict no street clothes rule when it comes to lounging.

“Sexy,” he drawls, looking at your outfit choice.

It’s one of his shirts with an oversized neckline due to an accident with the 10-year-old dryers in the basement of the dorms and a pair of ratty long johns to beat the cold of the AC. It’s not cute per se but it was all he had clean.

“Shut up.” You sit down near the arm of the couch next to him. “What are you gonna do after this? Don’t you have a department dinner?”

“Yeah, but I can skip it.”

“Hyuck, don’t skip department events.”

“I already have a rec letter from Dr. Chittaphon, though. So I don’t need to kiss ass anymore”

“He finally wrote it for you?”

In your excitement, you grab his closest hand in yours, giving a congratulatory smile. He smiles back an almost tender smile. In the privacy of his own dorm with none of his other classmates around, he nods with some enthusiasm.

“He told me about it yesterday. He said I can use it for as many lit programs as I want.”

“That’s amazing.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks flush a deep ruby as he fiddles with the knitted quilt to pull over you. True to his word he has some inane show queued up on the tiny TV he brought with him from home. But once the lights are off and the coffee table is pushed close enough to support your feet, you succumb to sleep. Donghyuck is radiating warmth and an extra something that, combined with the background noise from the TV, makes you feel like you’re floating. You shift so you’re pillowed by the arm of the couch and drift off pretend the moment is something else.

***

You wake up from the nap to the sound of your phone alerting you to a new message. The phone is resting on the coffee table, so you sit up to get it only to realize you can’t quite move. Donghyuck’s arms are wrapped tightly around your torso and his head has migrated to your shoulder from it’s resting place when he was sitting up. He’s so close that the tip of his nose grazes your neck. You test just how stuck you are by moving toward the table a bit. Donghyuck responds with a grumble and a warning nuzzle of his cheek against your clavicle.

The moment you decide to move one of his arms, he pulls you in closer and presses his open mouth to your exposed shoulder. It feels almost like a kiss, but then he lets out a snore that reminds you of your family pug and all the romance is gone. You continue to shift as best you can to reach your phone.

The notification on your screen tells you that the message is from Yuta, yet again. Donghyuck is still fast asleep when you peek down at him. Just to be sure he doesn’t wake up, you turn onto your side. Even in his sleep he follows you, readjusting his grip on you while slotting his face into your nape and his knees behind yours. Thankfully the couch is wide enough that he doesn’t push you off the edge. With the brightness and volume turned down, you open up your messages.

there’s gonna be another NKT frat party in two weeks it’ll be no fun if you’re not there

Donghyuck’s words about Yuta’s reputation ring in your head but you don’t really care. Instead his flirtation makes you feel zippy. He might be a player but you’re play the game too. You type a response out quickly.

i guess i could go...u better make it worth it my while.

After you press send you have to bite your tongue to hold in a laugh. You’re not sure why you’re having so much fun. A small smile makes it to your face and you press the phone to your chest only for it to go off once more.

“I don’t get it,” Donghyuck groans. His breath hits the side of your throat while he rubs his eyes. “He can’t be that interesting.”

Even though he’s not pleased with Yuta’s constant messaging, Donghyuck’s grip on you doesn’t let up. In fact, he tucks his face securely over your shoulder and merely plucks the phone out of your hands.

“Can I read what he sent?”

“I guess,” you mumble.

It’s hard to be annoyed at him when he’s warm and soft behind you from sleep. He hands you the phone so you can unlock it before taking it back and finding the latest message.

“He said, ‘by the end of the party, i promise it will have been worth it. how do you like your toast in the morning?’”

“Oh god. Don’t read it out loud, that makes it so unsexy.”

“That’s because he’s unsexy. Just tell him to fuck off.”

“If you don’t think he’s sexy then don’t fuck him.” He pinches at your sides and you yelp. “Plus, I don’t really have a reason to blow him off so quickly.”

“Uh, yes. Yes, you do.”

“I already told you I don’t care if he’s not the marrying type.”

“T-there are other reasons.”

“What are they?”

There’s a long pause.

“Okay, I can’t think of any right now, but I know they’re there. So just...please. You’re way out of his league, anyway.”

You snort. “Right. I’m not hot enough to get free drinks from people, so if I’m out of his league, what are you?”

From the little spoon position, you can’t see Donghyuck’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Sophomore year you two had snuck into a bar and a few senior girls sent some drinks to your table after seeing him in a leather jacket. Since then the freebies have only increased now that he’s lost some of his baby face and invested in jeans that fit.

“Besides,” you snatch the phone back. “He’s the only one who seems to find me attractive lately.”

“There are other people who find you attractive.”

There’s a seriousness in his voice that startles you a bit. Donghyuck is a free spirit so there’s not much that makes him mad. But now his voice is a shade more gravelly than normal. When you roll onto your back you see that his brows slant heavy over his eyes. He looks truly upset. And you’re not sure why. It takes you by surprise and it must show on your face, because instantly his eyes go softer and he’s laying back down beside you.

“Even if that’s true, Hyuck, those people aren’t lining up at my door.” Donghyuck mouth purses against the back of your neck in frustration. “At least Yuta is being loud and clear. I can’t fault him for that. Just like I can’t date someone whose feelings I never know.”

“Fair enough.” He sighs finally, his words taking you by surprise. “You sure you don’t like him at least a little bit, though? This seems like a lot for someone you don’t actually care about.”

“No, I have...someone else.”

Donghyuck shoots forward to peer at you with wide eyes. “Who is it?”

“I don’t wanna say.”

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“If I told you, I would jinx everything.”

He eyes you silently but doesn’t push much more.

“Is Yuta suddenly an option so you can get over this mystery person?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll do my best to help out.”

“What does that mean?” Donghyuck sits up, probably energized by the nap.

“Yuta is the type of guy that wants what he can’t have. So you have to show him that he can’t have you.”

“Okay, I see where you’re going and I honestly kind of like the early 2000’s rom-com vibes. But how do you make someone think you’re taken when you’re single?”

“Leave it to me.”

Leaving things up to Donghyuck harebrained schemes often means that you aren’t in the loop even when you’re technically in the loop.

Yuta and you text on and off during the whole week leading up to the NKT party. Per Donghyuck’s advice, you give short answers and always take longer than an hour to open his selfies after he sends them. When you do respond with a selfie, you’re never alone in them. A picture of you coyly sipping from the straw in your iced coffee with Donghyuck’s shoulder in the background. A picture of your legs while you study in bed with Donghyuck’s hand partially cropped in the left corner. One of them was supposed to be a mirror selfie to show your outfit, but Donghyuck is fully present with a smug grin and a “friendly” arm wrapped around your waist. When your best friend first proposed the idea to you, it sounded like bro code bullshit. But it seemed to work.

While his snap stories remain full of other ‘acquaintances’, Yuta’s messages get a little more lovey dovey the more you ignore him. There’s suddenly a flood of texts telling you he can’t wait to see you and calling you baby. The act seems to be taking a toll on Donghyuck judging by his scowls after every photo you send. But you just can’t help laughing at how petty guys can be.

Friday rolls around and you’re actually debating whether or not you should bring a condom to the party. You obviously don’t know what size Yuta wears, but with the way he’s been talking over text you think maybe the evening might end well. Help-me-get-over-my-best-friend sex can still be good sex, even if it doesn’t help you get over your best friend.

So you take extra time in the shower Friday night, shimmy into something tight, and wait for Donghyuck to arrive at your place so you can leave to the party together. You had wanted to go with your classmate Jennie, since Donghyuck is a bit of a homebody. But that night he wanted to come, saying something about seeing his plan through.

When Donghyuck arrives, you’re taking a swig from one of the tiny nip bottles of vodka that you stashed in your purse. After a mere 5 seconds of having arrived, he takes one look at you and immediately groans.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just stay in? We can order Chicken Haus and watch that new show you put on my DVR. Or I could hire a stripper. I’m sure we could find one that’s way more personable than Yuta.”

“Hyuck, I need to do this. It’ll be good for everyone involved.”

“But why am I part of that everyone?”

“You said you would help me with this. And you’re forgetting that Mila is gonna be there.”

Sadly, it was also too early in the night and you hadn’t drunk nearly enough to be able to tell him that he’s involved because he’s the one you're trying to get over. You empty the first tiny bottle and begin downing the second one as you begin the trek to the NKT house.

“What does Mila have to do with anything?”

“While I’m hopefully...doing my thing, you can be doing yours. With her.”

“Why would I want to sleep with Mila?”

“You don’t want to sleep with Mila?”

“No? Who said I did?”

“Oh.”

Donghyuck scoffs at you like you’re speaking gibberish and passes around you when you stop in your tracks again. When you catch up to him, he swipes the new nip bottle out of your hand and finishes it in one gulp.

***

The party is in full swing when you arrive. You stand in the doorway of the front entrance and take in the scenery. The regular lights have all been switched out for red bulbs. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and be able to make out faces properly because the color is so saturated.

The music is booming loud enough for you to feel the bass in your chest and echo across the soles of your feet as you walk across the room. Donghyuck helps you part your way through the crowd of bodies swaying to the music to get to the drinks table. With a cup in your hand and liquid courage going down your throat, you feel a little less nervous. You try to be inconspicuous while you scan the room for Yuta, but you don’t find him.

“I don’t see him,” you shout over the music, “What do you wanna do in the meantime?”

“Go home,” Donghyuck scowls into his cup.

You flip him off for being a wet blanket and finish the contents of your cup. Just as you move for a refill, you happen to find Yuta in the crowd. He’s not alone either. There’s a girl with long red hair in front of him, dancing while he smiles wolfishly. You think you recognize her from one of his instagram posts. Suddenly, you’re not feeling so bold anymore.

“There he is,” you say just loud enough for Donghyuck to catch. Even over the music he can hear the resignation in your voice. He follows your gaze over to the dark corner where the girl now has herself pressed against him.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” Donghyuck straightens up.

“It’s not too late, though.”

“How is it not? She’s practically got him in a to-go box.”

“Maybe, but he might just not know you’re here. You can still plant the seed. You know, let him know what he’s missing, at least.”

Donghyuck’s features are now angled in focus. In the red party lights, the serious expression squares off his jaw, sharpens the planes of his face. He looks handsome and he wants to help you even though he hates the guy he’s trying to help you with. You don’t know whether to be angry or feel fond. It’s not like you really want him to help you get with another guy, but the fact that he’s swallowing his own pride to do it shows he cares. He’s a good friend, you muse. And you can’t mess that up just because you caught feelings.

With vodka and spiked punch humming in your veins, you toss your shoulders back and grab your friend’s hand. Making a beeline through the crowd once more, you make sure to end up in a spot that’s directly in Yuta’s eyeline. Donghyuck falls in front of you instinctively, acting as a wall to spy behind. The music changes and you move with it to look natural. Your arms come up to wrap around your friend’s broad shoulders and your body comes up to press against his. Donghyuck looks down at you.

“Sorry,” you plead through the thumping bass of the song, “I know this is weird but I just figured if it looked like—”

“No, I get it. Keep going.”

Then, he’s locking you in with a hand on the small of your back and stepping in time with the beat of the song. You follow suit and as soon as you do, Yuta looks away from his friend for a split second. Your eyes meet, he takes in the scene, and you give him your best teasing grin. Instantly he looks intrigued. His eyes don’t return to the girl in front of him and instead he raises an eyebrow. As if to say ‘I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend’. You respond with a coy eye roll but also graze your hands lightly up the column of Donghyuck’s back for effect. You’re so caught up in your act that you forget yourself and go so far as to rake your nails across the nape of his neck. He shivers against you and for a moment you think you’ve crossed a line. But then he’s spinning you around.

Now your back is to Yuta while Donghyuck sizes the older man up. The plan is no longer in your control and you’re nervous.

“What are you doing,” you hiss into his ear.

“I’m just doing my part.”

Donghyuck makes sure Yuta is watching before leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Once the initial shock wears off, you freeze up for a different reason. On the one hand, this is what you’ve been waiting for. On the other hand, this isn’t how you had imagined your first kiss with him. You certainly don’t want it to have happened only because he was trying to get some other guy interested in.

The way his lips caress yours softly makes you pliant for a moment. You let your guard down and pull him closer with a sigh. His arms come to wrap around you completely and it feels so real then. It feels like the room is spinning. And then you realize it’s actually spinning as Donghyuck turns you both around just in time to give Yuta a glimpse of your entwined figures.

You don’t see the way the older student frowns lightly while being dragged away by his lady friend. All you see is a reminder that none of this is real. The way Donghyuck hugs you to his chest minutely as you kiss him isn’t real. The sweetness of the way he nudges his nose against you and switches the angle of the kiss isn’t real. The way he murmurs your name briefly against your lips before coming in to kiss you again, hidden from Yuta, is...not real?

You push at him roughly. He stumbles back like he’s drunk even though he drank a fraction of the amount you did.

“Donghyuck”

“Mission accomplished.” He grins at Yuta’s retreating back, passing his hand over his mouth.

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, that was just...it was just something to seal the deal.”

“Right.” You look down at your feet. “It was an act.”

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t real.”

He laughs but it comes out airy and broken. You try to laugh too but the sound catches in your mouth and a hitch comes out instead.

“Would it have been that awful if it were real?”

You watch as his jaw drops and he frantically looks anywhere but at you. It’s a trap of a question. A trap for the both you really, but you can’t stop yourself from asking.

“What do you mean? Like if we...if you and I were—”

“Forget it. That would be crazy, I don’t know why I even said that. I’m gonna go get some air.”

“Hey.”

The NKT house is one that you’ve visited a couple times for parties, so you’re lucky in that you know the layout well enough to be able to find a back door quickly. There’s not that many people on the porch that you find, so you don’t feel that bad about nudging some empty hard cider cans out of the way and letting out a pathetic little cry.

The rejection isn’t actually all that hard to take; you’d come to accept that Donghyuck was not for you. You hate the sound of your watery voice as you basically asked him if you had a shot only for him to act like he was being held hostage. The couple who had been making out on the other end of the porch get turned off by the weepy background music you make and head inside.

Sounds of another person walking onto the patio interrupt your crying, but you figure if you just cry louder they’ll be gone soon. When the footsteps get closer and eventually end up to your right, you wipe your nose discreetly and take a step away.

“Rough night?”

Yuta stands next to you with a smile. It’s not quite as sharp as the other times as he looks you over.

“You probably aren’t looking for this right now, but I just want to say you clean up real nice.”

“Gee, thanks.” You smooth a hand over the fabric of your clothes. “What are you doing out here?”

“I came to find you actually. Can’t stop thinking about you lately.”

You scoff. “Where’s your friend from earlier?”

“Her? She’s just a colleague.”

“She looked like she liked you,” you say quietly.

“I guess so. I’ve definitely seen that look before. Maybe that’s what it is.”

“Trust me, I know that look when I see it.”.

“I bet you do.” He pins you with an amused look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You cross your arms and turn to him. He chuckles at your sudden annoyance, looking oddly charmed by it.

“Easy, cowgirl.” He lays a relaxed hand on your shoulder, pulling you near. “All I meant was that you must be sick of getting that look from your little ‘not boyfriend’.”

“He’s really not my boyfriend. And he doesn’t—”

“Look, I’m an observant person. I see things. I can read people.” He puts his beer bottle down and uses the now free hand to wipe at the drying tear tracks on your cheeks. “I know when someone’s trying to make me jealous.”

“About that—”

“And I know when someone is head over heels with someone else. And that guy? He’s completely gone.”

“Yuta, I’m sorry about trying to play with your emotions like that. I’m sure you get your fair share of that.”

“Eh, it‘s whatever.” He shrugs. “I will say that you did a good job. It was fun, even if I did get a bit jealous at the end.”

“It wasn’t completely my idea,” you confess.

“I think I kinda knew that.”

You stand in what you think might be companionable silence with Yuta. He takes another swig from his beer while leaving his hand lingering on you. Not in a sleazy way, but perhaps in an attempt at being comforting. Like maybe he’s trying to be a friend.

“So, what’s the deal with your friend?”

“He’s...I think it’s one-sided. I basically confessed out there and his response was kind of bad.”

Yuta turns to lean against the porch railing. You face out into the trees behind NKT house, he faces the house, watching people pass by and stop on the patio.

“What kind of bad?”

“It was like the idea of us together froze him or something. He got so nervous, he started stuttering. I just booked it out of there after that.”

“How do you know it was because he didn’t like the idea? What if he was, like, trying to contain his excitement or something?”

“That would be amazing. But the likelihood of that is insane. I mean, you and him are kind of alike.”

“Excuse me,” Yuta bawks. You laugh a little and pat his arm reassuringly.

“I just mean that you and he are both cool guys.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“He’s super cool and funny and handsome and...warm? It’s probably just simple math or physics—how can you not love him?”

Yuta hums, eyes still trained on the partygoers passing by the porch entrance. Someone walks by the open frantically, then comes back to stand in the doorframe.

“I don’t know. Maybe you have a word for this since you’re in astronomy but isn’t that just how it works? The planets just gravitate around the sun. It’s not the other way around. He’s the sun and I’m...”

“Pluto?”

“Yeah, actually.”

You laugh because it’s a little sad but it’s perfect for your analogy. Pluto. Not even a real planet, doesn’t really belong with some of the other giants that have moons and rings of their own. But still helplessly circling the sun because the laws of the universe won’t let it go that easily.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” Yuta says after a moment.

“Oh, uh, okay.”

You continue to look out at the backyard. With your eyes having adjusted a long time ago, you enjoy the dark cobalt of the night sky and the ink blot silhouettes of the trees in the forest that runs along the school’s border. The air has grown crisp and without the alcohol blanket covering you, you’re feeling a bit tired and cold.

“Hey, you misplaced this,” Yuta’s voice sounds again as he ambles back onto the porch. He hands you your bag and phone.

“Crap, you’re a lifesaver.” Oddly enough, you don’t really remember putting them down, but you suppose it was the chaos of the party that blurred the memory.

“I think I have to head out,” you say finally. “It’s clear that my head’s not really in the right place to stay out much later.”

“I get that.” Yuta leans forward and places a soft kiss on your cheek. “But I think I might actually have something related to this in some of my old notes. I’ll send it to you.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.”

Yuta waits around in a surprisingly gentlemanly fashion while you send an awkward text to Donghyuck saying that you’re catching a shared ride back to your dorm and that he doesn’t have to wait up for you.

The following day, you wake up to a knock on your door. Your head is pounding from dehydration and a too-late bedtime the previous night, but you still hobble to the door of your bedroom to see what the commotion is.

“Here.” Your roommate places a stapled book of pages into your hand. “Donghyuck came by to drop this off. He said some guy named Yuta gave it to him and that you would know what it was.”

“Oh-kay,” you yawn and blink down at the paper.

There’s a section highlighted in red on the lined paper. It says BINARY SYSTEMS in neat penmanship. You vaguely remember Yuta mentioning sending you some notes, so you put it at the foot of your bed and plan to read it when you’re more awake.

“You up for brunch tomorrow,” you follow her into the main room and find an overnight bag on the couch.

“Can’t. I’m going to visit my parents tomorrow since my Monday classes got cancelled.”

“Lucky you.”

“We can do next week though.”

“Yeah sure.”

***

Later that Sunday, when you’re stuck in a procrastination loop with your own work, you remember Yuta’s notes. You try to make some sense of them but even with coffee and an afternoon nap, it’s still too jargon-filled to bring any sense to you. So you do the next best thing and type the heading of his notes into an online encyclopedia. The first sentence for the page reads:

A binary system is a system of two astronomical bodies which are close enough that their gravitational attraction causes them to orbit each other...

You don’t really know what Yuta thought you would get from reading this. Maybe he just thought that you would be interested because you made an astronomy analogy. You pull out your phone, about to text Yuta for an explanation, when your phone rings. It’s Donghyuck.

“Hello?” You try to keep your voice neutral, free of embarrassment.

“Hey, where are you?”

“I’m actually just in my dorm.”

“I just saw Daisy. Is she—”

“She’s going home for a few days.”

“Cool. Can I...come up?”

“Yeah. Of course, yeah. I’ll be here.”

You hang up the phone and as soon as you enter the common room, there’s a knock on the door.

“That was fast, you must have—Are you okay?”

There’s dark bruises underneath Donghyuck’s eyes, a sign that he didn’t get much sleep the night before. He smiles self-deprecatingly and holds the door frame for support while taking off his shoes. You note that they’re his shower slides. He’s either more tired than you realize or he was in a hurry to get here. In his hand he holds a cardboard tray carrying two recyclable cups, one filled to the brim with whipped cream like you always ask for.

“I was looking for you,” he blurts. “Friday night. I was looking for you after you ran away.”

“Okay.”

“I was looking for you because as soon as I kissed you I knew I fucked up. But,” he puts his hands up, “not in the way you think.”

“I think I need to sit down for this conversation.”

“I—yeah, okay.”

Donghyuck follows behind you as you migrate to your breakfast table. He looks even more exhausted in the fluorescent lighting hanging above the table. He hands you your cup, and you eat some of the whipped topping thoughtfully.

“How’d you pay for this? Didn’t you say you had a negative balance?”

“I find a way,” he chuckles.

“What were you saying before?”

“I figured you wouldn’t really want to talk to me, but you left your bag and stuff with me, so I was gonna just give it back to you and then give you space, but then I saw you on the porch. With Yuta.”

“Yeah. He came and found me actually. We had a really strange conversation.”

“I know. I heard most of it.”

“Oh. Then you probably know how I feel.”

“Yeah.” He ducks his head to play with the cardboard sleeve sitting around his own cup. “Did you read Yuta’s notes? I gave them to Daisy before she left. She said she’d give them to you.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And did you...get it?”

“Not really. I think he was just trying to convert me to astronomy”

“Well, after you guys talked, he took your purse from me. And he said he’d send me the notes too. So I read them. And then I didn’t get it so I read more, and then I thought about it and I think I got it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s you and me.”

“How is it you and me?”

“I mean, you kept talking about how I’m like the sun and you’re like Pluto. But we’re something else. It’s not you revolving around me or me revolving around you. We circle each other.”

“So, that means...”

You think back to the discussion you had with Yuta on the back porch of the NKT frat house and it starts to click into place. If hand-holding and back scratches and buying him lunch was your revolution, buying you coffee when he was broke, watching you pretend to do homework, and helping you bag another guy for your own happiness was his. Somehow you had missed so many little things because you were blinded by his light. But now, you could see clearly. Donghyuck wasn’t the sun and you were not Pluto. You were binary stars.

“Hyuck,” you whisper because your throat is suddenly tight.

You get up from your seat, nearly toppling your chair over as you make your way around the table. He opens his arms to meet you halfway and you pull his head to your stomach. Bending at the waist, you press a kiss to the top of his head. He buries his face into the fabric of your shirt and breathes out a deep sigh.

“I love you,” his voice is muffled.

“I love you too.” When he smiles up at you, you take notice of the dark circles under his eyes again. “Have you not been sleeping?”

“I spent a lot of time overthinking everything since Friday night. I kind of haven’t gone to bed since then.”

“You have to take better care of yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, come take a nap.”

He lets you tug him to your room where your bed lays freshly made. You turn the blankets over and gesture for him to get in. He slides in to the wall and then turns to pat the free space beside him.

“Get in.”

“I’m not tired. I slept like a baby these last two days actually.”

His mouth drops open. “How? I felt like I had to read every article about brown giants just to get here.”

“Yeah, see, I didn’t do that.”

“I probably know more than Yuta by now, honestly.”

“You know,” you finally surrender to his annoying patting of the mattress and sit, “He’s not as bad as you made him seem. I actually really liked the vibe while I was talking to him.”

“Why would you tell me that while you get into bed with me?”

You pat his cheek. “I’m just wondering now if maybe some of your attitude towards him was for show.”

“It might have been. But I was feeling desperate.”

“I’ll forgive you if you just go to sleep.”

“I’m too awake to go to sleep.”

“Well, I don’t want to go out and do something just for you to fall asleep like someone’s dad at a baseball game.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You definitely do that.”

You reach a hand out to stroke his hair, making sure to graze the hair at the back of his neck. He freezes up and at first you think it’s just the area being ticklish for him. So you ignore it and continue. But he freezes up again.

“Okay, if you want me to sleep stop doing that.”

“What are you talking about—Oh.” Just as you were pulling your fingers away, you feel something press against your hip. Your eyes grow wide and he buries his face in your neck.

“Sorry, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to sleep.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this situation. A fair number of times you’ve woken up first after falling asleep in front of the TV, wrapped up in him wherever you slept only to realize that he was still dreaming about ‘nice things’. Sometimes you were able to pretend you were still asleep and he’d quietly disentangle himself before going to sit in your living room until you ‘woke up’ for a second time. Other times, he’d wake up right after you and he’d say the same thing every time. ‘It’s just a reflex’.

“Just a reflex,” you ask because you're not really sure what to do.

“If you want.” He picks his head up then.

“If it’s not just a reflex, what then?”

You inch your hand under the covers at the same time that he props himself up on an elbow, pulling you closer. The sliding sound of clothes seems extra loud in the confines of your room and it makes your face feel hot. His hand appears near the hem of your shirt, grazing the sliver of exposed skin gently enough to make your breath hitch a little.

“Then we can just see where we end up.”

#nct fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan fluff #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #haechan fanfic #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck scenarios #donghyuck fanfic

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ceilingfan5 · 4 years

Note

i'm probably too late for this sksksksks but Au- (1) and they were Roomates Dynamic- Either Exes (8) or strangers to lovers (9) prompt (a couple because it depends) - Alexa play wonderwall (24). I don't even know why we're doing this (34). or the angsty kinda option oop- Sometimes i wonder what would happen if things were different (26). sorry for formatting ;u;

i went with [And they were roommates, Strangers to lovers, “I don’t even know why we’re doing this”] !!

“I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

“You, sorry. You don’t understand why we’re COOKING?” Taako stops jabbing at the browning sausage to stare dumbfoundedly at Kravitz. Kravitz’s ears get hot.

“Obviously I know what the point of making food is, Taako, but I don’t get why you drafted me into making your dinner.” He goes back to cutting the tomato Taako gave him, worrying about how haphazard the pieces are and whether he’s going to get shit-talked. But does it really matter, as long as he’s careful enough with the knife?

“Our dinner, roomie. We’re making dinner for us. I’m sick of you holing up in your room and eating that frozen garbage. That first week after I moved in, I thought you were a fucking vampire!”

“Maybe I am,” Kravitz says cooly, scooping his ugly tomato chunks into a bowl. “Did you consider that?”

Taako cocks his head to the side and goes back to poking at the sausage. “Huh. I guess it depends on the kind of vampire you are, yeah? Like, do you eat food? What’s your feral quotient? Can you handle garlic?”

“I very much can handle garlic,” Kravitz says, his stomach growling despite himself. Taako’s a good cook, and being this close to it instead of, admittedly, hiding in his room and practicing the cello is almost intolerable. It smells incredible.

“Oh, good.” Taako grins at him. “Then I don’t give a fuck if you’re a bloodsucker. You do you, boo.”

“I’m not your boo, Taako.”

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Taako says cryptically. He takes a long sip of the cooking wine, makes a face, and then uses it to deglaze.

The food is incredible. Kravitz is even sort of proud of his participation in the cooking process.

So Taako keeps asking him to help. And, day after day, Kravitz is pulled from his dark room, out into the common area, into goofy conversations and learning cooking skills his mothers never taught him. Getting closer and closer to the sun, which he can also very much handle, he swears.

He never expected to fall in love with Taako.

It’s inevitable, honestly. Taako isn’t the annoying jackass Kravitz thought he was when he moved in. Or, rather, he is an annoying jackass, but he’s also a lot of fun, too. He’s clever and has a big personality. He’s honestly messy and crass and rude, but he’s also hilarious and...something in the neighborhood of kind, even if he would never admit it. Kravitz stops buying tens of the same three frozen meals, because he knows he can count on his roommate to force him to help cook dinner. And they’re always good dinners. Taako’s an incredible cook, and by hook or by crook, he turns Kravitz into one too.

Kravitz has never been forcibly cared for before. It’s weird. He’s so used to the dark, the grind, the lonesomeness. He couldn’t have predicted that Taako would pull him out of his isolation, inviting friends over and making him part of game night, making him feel needed and recognized and...loved. It feels good.

He thinks it’s one-sided, until…

Until.

The power goes out, one day. An incredible, nasty thunderstorm, and Kravitz is in his element. Except their stove is electric, and they can’t make dinner together. They settle for sandwiches, and eat them on the couch in the dark, silent except for the sounds of chewing and thinking.

“No TV,” Kravitz observes.

“No,” Taako echoes. “Guess we’ll have to entertain ourselves. You could play for us.”

“You don’t want that.” Kravitz is sheepish. “Our neighbors definitely don’t.”

“Maybe not yet. We’ll see how long this lasts.” Taako sets his empty plate on the coffee table and slides a little closer to Kravitz. Thunder claps, loud enough the shake the windows, and Kravitz sees in the candlelight--Taako is shaking too.

“Then...we’ll do something else.”

“Yeah? What?” Taako tucks his knees up under him, pressing up against Kravitz’s thighs. He’s so warm.

“Sounds like you want something to distract you.” It’s a wager, and it pays off, although Taako doesn’t exactly appreciate being called out.

“I’m fine. I’m doing great. Maybe you’re not, but I’m super, super cool with thunderstorms and have zero problems with-” Thunder pounds on the windows and growls at them through the panes. Taako jumps, pushing him that much closer to Kravitz. “Fuck- fucking- great, I’m great, having a good time-”

“You’re right,” Kravitz says, going for reverse psychology instead. “I’m sort of afraid of them, though, so I was hoping for something to keep my mind off of, you know...” The wind howls through the vents. Taako squeezes Kravitz’s thigh for support and Kravitz is quite relieved his blush is nearly invisible in the heavy dark. “All this?”

“I can think of a distraction. But you gotta be cool about it.”

“Me? Cool? I’m- me? Super cool.”

Taako snickers, but he goes through with it. He kisses Kravitz.

The world slows to a halt, and the thunderstorm becomes a lot less important. Everything narrows down to the pure symphony of serotonin Taako is conducting with his tongue, and his hands--one Kravitz wants to notate every single beat of. He forgets to breathe, pulling Taako close and sucking the melody out of him.

“I thought you’d never-” Kravitz whispers, all caught up in an exhale, and Taako laughs in delight.

“You still waiting for me to pull you out of your comfort zone? I have to do everything around here.”

And he kisses Kravitz again.

The storm doesn’t seem so bad while they’re tangled up together. It’s funny, Kravitz thinks...the world is a lot better with someone to share it with. Just like rent.

#taakitz #taz #tazb #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #taakitz fic #ask game #and my inbox is empty!! feel free to send in a request #im gonna do another ask game tomorrow #raise your hand if ouran high school host club gave you a thing for thunderstorm phobias

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sjjdkdkwo · 3 years

Text

I think while Stephen was a pompous doctor during his pre accident days, he’d actually be a really sad person behind closed doors? He probably doesn’t even realize it but he’s such an empty person for so many reasons at that point like the loss of literally his whole family. And he doesn’t really strike me as a social butterfly even then, like he doesn’t really have friends, he has colleagues but in his warped sense of companionship that’s enough and means he’s not a sad lonely person. At least in the movies they don’t show you any friends he might have besides Christine? And it really makes me wonder if he even has them to begin with, and if he didn’t I feel like he’d do all these little things to overcome loneliness he doesn’t even know he has? You get me??? Anyway—

—

A thirty-four hour shift wasn’t the longest Stephen had endured since becoming a surgeon, but it was draining all the same. Especially when it seemed he was the only capable surgeon at Metro General half of the time he was working there. Stephen swore if he had to fix Nick’s mistakes on more time he’d push him from a fifth floor window; and make him operate on himself just to make him see how incompetent he really was. He’d already come close once earlier that week.

He stifled a yawn as he made his way toward the elevator in his building but stopped when he felt something barrel into his legs. Nearly tripping over the thing he looked down with scowl and found a familiar furry face looking up at him. Stephen forgot any irritation as the little dog before him barked and got up on it’s hind legs to paw at Stephen’s own longer ones. He broke out into a large grin as he crouched down to be closer to eye level with the dog and reached out to run his fingers over the animals soft silky fur before sticking out one hand for the dog to shake.

“Well hello, Bandit.” He greeted. “How are you doing today?”

Bandit let out a high pitched bark and placed his paw into Stephen’s waiting hand. After giving the dog a gentle little handshake he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a small bag of dog treats before holding one out for the dog to eat. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as Bandit scarfed down the treat and he let his hand linger so his furry friend could lap up the residue left on his fingers.

“I know, I know, bacon flavor is your favorite. I didn’t forget.”

Stephen held conversation with the dog for another minute before a tall man ran up to them calling out the dogs name. When he saw Stephen a look of relief passed over his face as he made his way toward them.

“Doctor Strange, thank God.” He huffed before his gaze landed on Bandit. “And you! What have I told you about running off like that? Your lucky you ran into Doctor Strange, mister!”

Bandit barked again, wagging his tail and jittering about between both men. Stephen shook his head fondly and stood back up.

“Marcus, how are you?”

“Great, listen I’m so sorry, Doctor Strange. I don’t know what comes over him whenever he sees you.” Marcus said scratching his chin in thought.

“Probably these?” Stephen laughed holding up the bag of dog treats.

“I see now, trying to bribe my dog into leaving me for you, huh?” Marcus joked.

“Hardly. If anything, he’s the one trying to con me with that adorable face of his.”

Marcus laughed and settled a soft, kind smile on his face and leaned down to hook Bandit back on his leash.

“I get what you mean, I’m practically starving with how often he whines for table scraps.” Marcus huffed again. His phone chirped then and he quickly fished it out from his pants. His eyes widened when he stared at the screen and he looked back up at Stephen with a sorry face. “Shoot, I gotta go, Doctor Strange.”

“Oh…right course, it was nice seeing you, Marcus. You keep a close eye on him, he’s a slippery one.”

“Oh I will.”

“I was talking to Bandit.” Stephen teased.

Marcus rolled his eyes and gave him a wry smile. “Very funny, Doctor Strange. Bye now!”

Stephen waved them both off with a slack smile before making his way back toward the elevator door and to his loft. He often thought about getting a dog of his own, but then he’d remember he hardly had time for himself most days and would eradicate the thought from his mind completely.

Walking through his front door Stephen slipped off his coat and shoes and placed them neatly on by the door and on the coat rack. He rolled his head side to side a few times and walked into the living room quickly switching on the television. The loft would be to quiet otherwise and on days were things were less ideal than usual; it almost felt like there was someone else there. Not that Stephen needed the comfort, certainly not. It was merely a habit he often told himself instead. Stephen turned his gaze to the table settled against the wall and the two frames placed meticulously there.

“Donna, Victor. I’m home.” He said to the frames then trotted to the kitchen. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had. I swear it’s like Nick was placed on this earth just to annoy me.”

It was a stupid habit really, one that Stephen would never admit to anyone to save his life. It had started thanks to an old college roommate who had once confided in him that he could speak to the dead. Of course Stephen had laughed at him and had deemed the whole ordeal sheer lunacy. His roommate had hadn’t taken much offense though and had continued to hassle Stephen with tales of psychic powers or special cards one could use to speak to the deceased. Sometimes one could merely talk into the open air and if they were lucky a loved one would be near by to hear it, he’d said. Stephen had taken everything with a grain of salt though, and hadn’t cared much for the conversation.

After a particular nasty phone call with his father however, Stephen had been reminded how strained things were with his family at the time, and how broken they’d all become since Donnas’ death. And later that night in a bout of deep dejection he’d called out her name when no one was around. Before he knew it he’d spent six hours talking into thin air about anything and everything, and from then on he simply hadn’t been able to stop. A few years later he’d ended up doing the same with Victor.

Stephen reached the kitchen counter and opened one of the cabinets beneath the sink to pull out a silver pan. Opening his fridge next he rummaged through before pulling out a stick of butter and single cut of steak. “He nearly misdiagnosed a patient with a brain tumor. Can you even believe that? If I hadn’t stepped in and run a few more tests who knows what would’ve happened? Sometimes I just want to—“

Stephen stretched out his arms and clenched his fingers as if strangling an imaginary person. He sighed and went back to the items lying on the counter and heated up the stove.

“Honestly some days I think it’s not just the patients who’ve got something wrong going on in their brains.” Stephen laughed at his own words and dumped a scoop of butter into the pan before placing the steak in. “It seems like there isn’t anyone there who hasn’t gotten on my nerves. Well…there is a new surgeon, Christine. It’s kind of endearing really, when she first met me she could hardly find the right words to even say hello. I’m not surprised though, it’s not everyday you meet someone of my skill and talent.”

Stephen walked away from the stove and found his way to the living room and turned on some music.

“We actually have a date this weekend at dinner I’m speaking at. She was so excited when I told her; I bet she’s kept up with all my work...” Stephen said, drumming his fingers on his armrest with a lofty smirk. A slight smell of smoke made it’s way over to him but Stephen decided to ignore it in favor of talking some more. Before he could continue his ramblings though the next song played and he let out a jovial laugh. “I can’t make you love me by Bonnie Raitt, 1991. Oh god, I remember when you played this song for days on end after Brian Williams broke up with you, Donna. You didn’t stop moping over that halfwit until Victor and me practically dragged you out of the house.”

Stephen smiled softly to himself, looking over at Donna and Victor’s pictures on the table in front him. “We went to the fair that day, remember?”

Donna had been a wreck when Brian had decided she simply wasn’t the right person for him. She’d cried and ran into the family room to declare that true love was a lie and that her life meant nothing anymore. Stephen and Victor had tried not to laugh, and instead set about planning ways to get back at Brian for making her cry regardless. She was their sister and they loved her too much to let her tears go to waste after all. After more than a week of hearing the same sad song behind her closed door though they’d decided enough was enough and had tugged her out of bed and into Stephen’s car. She’d been steadfast in her sulking demeanor the entirety ride there regardless of what Victor or Stephen did however.

It wasn’t until two rides in that Donna had cracked her first smile after Victor had screamed so hard he’d almost cried while on the rollercoaster ride. She’d babied him after, but still teased him about it as they’d made their way around before she dragged them both to see a psychic. Stephen had groaned and begged her not to indulge in the nonsensical fake mysticism but she’d made a show of almost crying herself and Stephen knew had no choice. He had often thought Donna could one day convince him into murder if she’d tried hard enough, and thanked anyone who would listen that she was kinder than that.

Stephen had stood off to the side as his siblings received their readings, not paying any mind to what the supposed psychic was telling them and making faces the whole time. He’d been relieved that they’d finished till Donna had insisted that he get a reading of his own. This time he hadn’t relented when she’d pouted—until Victor had joined.

He’d sat in front of the psychic with an air of skepticism and superiority, nodding with feigned interest with at each word he heard. He would admit that his ego had been stroked when he’d been told that great things awaited him in the future, and had turned back to his siblings with a smug grin. His mood has quickly shifted though when the psychic had told him that sorrow and hardship would also follow him for the rest of his life. When he’d been warned that he would come to associate large bodies of water and automobiles with pain and death Stephen had scoffed and demanded their money back. Donna had smacked him on the shoulder and scolded him for his rudeness, apologizing to the psychic while Victor rolled with laughter behind them.

Though it had left him annoyed, Stephen didn’t think on it beyond that day and resumed life as usual. He didn’t believe in discernible tales of the supernatural and mystical beings or the occult, not when science and logic could easily disprove them.

And then a year later, Donna drowned in the lake.

Stephen had been to overcome with grief to make any connections between the two events at first, and when he could finally think on it had merely become angrier with himself for belittling his own sister’s death in such a way and pushed the thought from his mind.

Victor’s death hadn’t hurt any less. And looking at his brother’s mangled dead body beside the parked car he nearly laughed at the fortuity of it all, before breaking down and cradling him in his arms while he cried.

Stephen had become deathly silent as he let his mind wander further into the tragedy that seemed shadow him through life and wondered not for the first time if perhaps he was cursed. Pain had become an old friend by now, and sometimes Stephen didn’t know if he was truly happy or simply passing by as best he could. All his thoughts were interrupted at the sound of the smoke alarm going off however, and he cursed as he ran back into the kitchen to turn of the stove and look down at his now burned dinner. Glad for the distraction Stephen laughed into the empty loft and turned his head slightly as if someone were really there.

“Guess that’s a no go. You know what means, take out.” Stephen said throwing out the steak into the garbage been before grabbing his phone. And if anyone else were really there they might have said he looked almost relieved and eager at the thought of ordering out. Almost like he’d planned for the dinner to fail since starting it. “I think I’ll order Ruffian’s tonight, the delivery boy, Tim always gives me extra utensils.”

Stephen didn’t need extra utensils. Who would even use them? No one, not when he lived all alone.

A few hours later Stephen practically rushed out of his seat to get the door when he heard the buzzer. Swaying his way to the entrance he opened it with a casual smile only to drop it when he saw a stranger standing there.

“Uh, food for…Doctor Strange?” the man before him said, squinting at the paper in his hand in disbelief before looking up at him.

“Ah, yes. That’s me.” Stephen responded. He furrowed a brow. “Tim’s not working tonight, huh?”

The man gave him an odd look before nodding. “Yeah he’s um—he’s off tonight. Anyway here.”

Stephen reached out to grab the bag as it was offered to him, and gave the made a teasing grin.

“Thanks, I needed this.” He said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Let’s just say my cooking is so good even the smoke alarm cheers for me.” Stephen snorted. The other man didn’t laugh. So Stephen did it for him, admittedly awkwardly though. “You get it? See I’m so—“

“Yeah listen I’ve gotta go to my next delivery, but uh, you enjoy your food Mister—“

“Doctor” Stephen corrected.

“Right, well. Bye now.” The man said in grimace before hastily making his way away from Stephen.

“Yes…goodbye now.” Stephen said to the empty hallway.

Stephen ate his meal in relative silence after, only finishing half and talking out loud only a few times in between bites. After finishing and placing the leftovers in the fridge he stood in the middle of the empty living room.

“Well, I’d better head to bed. Early day tomorrow, and I can’t be late.” Stephen said, rocking back on his heels. “You know they’d be completely lost without me otherwise.”

He laughed, but no one was there to hear it. He gave a strained smile before shutting the television off and heading to bed.

After changing into his sleeping attire Stephen settled into the large vacant bed under the warm thick blankets and shut off his bedside lamp.

“Today wasn’t so bad. Saw a few people today. And of course I did excellent work.” Stephen spoke into the dark solitary space around him. “Yes, thing are looking pretty good for me I’d say. Right Donna, Victor?”

Stephen smiled to himself but couldn’t help but think about what his siblings would really say in that moment. He knew of course, he could still remember every detail about them well enough to be able to guess. He could see Donnas’ pitying glance and Victor’s desolate stare.

Aren’t you lonely, Stephen? , Donna would probably ask.

Stephen scoffed into the air.

“I’m not lonely.” He mumbled. “I’m not, I’m perfectly fine with my life as is. I have everything I ever wanted you know.”

He was speaking louder now he knew, but it didn’t matter. He had no one to wake up anyway.

Are you sure?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Lonely…I can’t be lonely.”

Stephen shifted in bed, suddenly realizing how quite the room was and frowned deeply. He sat up and beat his pillow; it felt to stiff in that moment. The whole bed felt uncomfortable then really, but Stephen didn’t give in and settled back down with an angry huff.

“How can I be lonely when everyone knows my name.”

He lay there for a moment in the heavy stifling silence before he couldn’t handle it anymore and flung himself from out of the bed to open his bedroom window, letting in the harsh cold air as he did so. Along with the cacophony of voices and cars and whatever other noises lived on constantly in New York.

Stephen let out a shaky breath and made his way back into bed. He didn’t bother getting comfortable this time, instead curling in on himself and shutting his eyes tight as he let the raucous noise from outside shelter him from the suffocating stillness of before. Only then was Stephen finally able to sleep.

That night he dreamt of bright flashing lights and drowning. Deep, deep into a pool of black ooze until he could no longer breath.

In the morning, Stephen wouldn’t give the dream a second thought. He didn’t need to, not when he already knew.

There was no such thing as magic.

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eideticmemory · 4 years

Text

EVER SINCE NEW YORK VI | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 6! Read Part 5 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Miss you - The Rolling Stones.

Like Real People Do - Hozier.

Sweet Creature - Harry Styles.

Word Count: 4,619.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Summer, Before Senior Year.

Quarantine.

“You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“You were asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Matthew, it’s okay, really.”

“What time is it there?”

You pulled your phone away from your ear to glance at the screen, “Three in the morning.”

“Damn, [y/n], I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “What’s up?”

“Can we facetime?”

“I look a mess.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he replied. “Please?”

You sighed, “Okay. Okay, call me.”

He did, and when you answered, you had the camera focused on your face, your lamp light on.

“Oh, God, Matthew!” You shouted. “I thought you were going to show your face, you pervert!”

“My face isn’t hard right now.”

“Nasty!”

“I thought you liked it?”

“You’re a disgusting little boy.”

“[y/n], please. I’m so horny right now, and I’ve been jerking off forever, but I can’t get off. Help? Please?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. “Dirty boy. Filthy boy.”

“If this is your method of dirty talk, it isn’t working for me.”

You let out a dry laugh. His cock was front and center on your phone screen, his hand wrapped around it, jerking it slowly. “Tell me how to help, Matthew.”

“Show me those tits, pretty lady.”

You cackled, “Nasty!”

But you still pulled your shirt up, revealing your breasts, which were sitting pretty without the restraint of a bra. Matthew flipped the camera to his face at lightning speed, holding his screen close to his face. “When the fuck did you get your nipples pierced?” His voice was strained, high pitched, laced with shock and surprise.

“Oh,” you said. “The week I got home. Before the tattoo shops closed.”

“Do you like them?” You asked.

“Matthew?” You called.

But he was silent. Actually, he wasn’t silent, he was grunting. He was grunting, and jerking himself off, his wrist going numb from the speed and intensity that he was using. You froze the moment you realized what was happening, your camera perfectly angled at your chest. You watched Matthew’s face scrunch up, the way it always does when he’s nearing his orgasm, and your breath caught in your throat. He was so hot, geez. He stared at his phone, trembling, weak, panting quietly. He sucked in a sharp breath, and as he exhaled, the breath came out shaky and loud — louder than he intended — and he released himself all over his hand.

“You good?” You whispered.

“Ah, fuck,�� he mumbled. His breathing was hard, raspy. He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me about the nipple piercings?”

You giggled, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, wiping himself off before he fixed his pants. “Did they hurt?”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “It was quick, the piercer was nice.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Can I see them again?”

You sighed with a bit of laughter mixed in, and you did as you were asked. The two of you stayed up for another five hours, talking, laughing, helping each other come. By the time eight in the morning rolled around, you were completely shirtless, and Matthew was close to falling asleep. But he didn’t want to. He kept on bringing up different topics, pulling you into all sorts of conversations, just so you would stay on the phone.

“Matthew,” you whispered. “Go to bed.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“If you go to sleep right now, you will wake up to titty pictures.”

He paused, “Throw in some ass pics, too?”

“You got it,” you nodded.

“Okay, goodnight, [y/n].”

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

And so began a very long, very horny, dirty, nasty quarantine.

When you first arrived home, it was a constant waiting game to see who would call who first. When Matthew woke up without you that day, he held his phone in his chest for a long time, waiting for it to ring, to buzz, anything. But it never did. Because you were doing the same thing — watching, waiting, hoping. Matthew eventually got too swept up in his own move to reach out, so you sat at home for days without so much as a word. Until sunday night, when he finally called — horny and desperate.

You had to continue your online classes that Monday, after the long night of facetime sex, and he was all you could think about. All you could think about. There was radio silence for the first few hours of the day. You blindly rolled through your classes, glancing at your phone every few minutes. You finally gave in by the time you were in your last class, picked up your cell phone, and pulled up Matthew’s text messages. You didn’t know what to say, what to type, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. And just as you went to press a letter, a message came through.

M: i had a dream about you

You bit your lip to contain a smile.

Y: rly? what happened in this dream?

M: call me and i’ll tell you

You glanced at your laptop, your professor still rambling on and on. It was definitely unlike you to choose a boy over class. But, class was just about over. And Matthew wasn’t just a boy.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you said into your phone, smiling at Matthew’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“Just finished class. What are you doing?”

“I’m in class right now, actually,” he told you. “Animation.”

“Hot,” you giggled at the noise of his lecture in the background.

“Thanks. My dream was hotter, though.”

“Oh? Was it?” You grinned, laying back in bed.

“Yeah. You were a sexy nurse.”

“Matthew!” You exclaimed, erupting in a fit of laughter.

“Okay, you weren’t a nurse. But you were there, and I was there—“

“We were both there.”

“Yes. And we were in my room, on my bed, and you were sitting on my face.”

You squeezed your thighs together, “Oh.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing, but you did it. And you were so scared to suffocate me, it was cute.”

“Cute, huh?”

“Sexy. I can visualize your body so well,” he whispered. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Matthew,” a voice called.

Your eyes went wide, you went silent. “Oh, shit!” Matthew exclaimed, noticing that his microphone had been on the whole time. He quickly left the online class, and sighed heavily.

You could hardly breathe, you were laughing so hard. You cackled, you hooted, you howled. And Matthew couldn’t help but join you. “Fuck!” He chuckled. “I’m a dumbass.”

“Well, I’ve always known that.” You replied.

“Facetime me, princess,” he requested.

You did, and he continued to tell you about his dream. How he laid under you, could taste you on his tongue, feel your skin on his hands. It made you incredibly horny, and when you thought he wasn’t listening, you started to touch yourself. Your breath got shaky, and you attempted to keep it quiet — with no success.

“You touching yourself, princess?” Matthew asked.

“No,” you whispered, but it came out rushed.

“Oh, you are. I know that voice.”

“And I...like your voice.”

“You do? Hm...you like to hear me tell you how hot you are? How much I want to be sucking on those perfect tits right now? Bury my cock inside you and fuck you until you can’t walk?”

“Fuck, Matthew,” you huffed. You’d never heard him talk quite like this before. It was steamy and overwhelming and so, so nice.

“Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

“Just, uh, um, touching my clit.”

“Good, princess. Now, slide your fingers in for me.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, and did as you were told, your fingers gliding into you. “O-okay,” you murmured.

“Does it feel good? Does it feel better than me?” Matthew purred.

“Nothing feels better than you,” you said, before you could catch yourself.

He grinned to himself, “Show me. Let me watch.”

You flipped the camera around to present yourself to him, your legs spread open, your fingers pumping in and out of your core. “Fuck...” he said under his breath, his hand slipping into his underwear. “I’ve never been this jealous of someone’s fingers.”

You chuckled, followed by a weak moan. “Don’t be shy. Show me something, too.”

He let you watch him stroke his hard cock in his palm. Your hands were somehow moving in unison with each other’s. Matthew could tell you were getting close, from the noises you were making and the way your body trembled. His own orgasm pent up in his stomach, but he continued to edge himself until you came. But when you did finished, panting his name and letting out soft moans, he allowed himself to let go. His come shot all over his stomach, and you admired the way it coated his skin.

“Look what you did,” he murmured.

You laid there, tired and blissed out beyond belief. “Don’t you dare think that we’re doing this all of quarantine, Matthew Gubler.”

“We’ll see.”

The idea of spending five months away from Matthew was grueling to say the least. You’d gotten so used to him being right down the hall that you constantly had to remind yourself that he was all the way across the country. But, when you guys really got into the groove of things, the distance didn’t seem so bad.

He always texted you goodmorning and goodnight. The two of you managed to obtain a 30 day streak on snapchat. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. You texted each other tiktoks and funny tweets that reminded you of one another. You stayed up until all hours of the night, chatting and laughing and talking dirty to one another. You were on facetime with each other so often that your family began to ask who he was. “A friend,” you said. It wasn’t that believable, though.

Things were great, despite you missing him like crazy. And then he sent you a text. It had a few attachments, and a message saying: forgot to send you these 😘.

Intrigued, you opened the message to find a row of videos. Of you. Of Matthew. You two together. The first one you clicked was of him eating you out, and you swear, you flooded your bed. It was easy to forget, to lock away memories of him to keep yourself sane. But these videos — of you two fucking, him sucking on your boobs, you sucking on his fingers, sucking his dick — they were too much to bare.

You hand slid into your underwear, your eyes trained on your phone as you watched Matthew fuck you. Headphones in, you listened to the sound of skin on skin, him whispering dirty things to you through his moans. You bit down on your lip, touching yourself, teasing yourself, too turned on to think properly. And so eager to get off that you forgot to lock the door.

“[y/n]?” A family member called, bursting into your room.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. You quickly hid yourself under the cover and paused the video. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you promised not to make that mistake again.

Matthew, however, didn’t get the memo.

“Nipple piercings, ma’am?” He pouted, looking at you over facetime one day. “Whip ‘em out.”

“Whip ‘em out? Is that how you ask?” You giggled.

He sighed, “Can I see your tits? Please? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” he nodded.

“Moo like a cow,” you said.

He was silent for a second. “You considering it?” You asked.

“I am, yeah,” he nodded.

You cackled, and pulled your shirt up, revealing your bare chest. Just as both of your breasts graced the screen, Matthew’s mom stepped into his room to ask him a question.

“Oh, dear!” She remarked, catching a quick flash of your chest.

“Oh, no!” You shouted. You ducked out of the camera’s vision, and Matthew dropped his phone.

“Hi, [y/n],” Mrs. Gubler said.

“Hi, Mrs. Gubler!” You pipped, your face beet red.

When she left the room, Matthew and you erupted in nervous laughter. “I’m so, so sorry,” he told you.

“It’s okay! Is she mad?”

“No. She’s never gonna let me live this down, though. Anyways, show me those tits again.”

“Are you serious?” You pipped.

He gave you the eyes. His trademark ‘i’m horny and i would die for you, queen, please show me some titty’ eyes.

You sighed, “Nasty boy.”

By the time you two were halfway through quarantine, Matthew and you had each other’s routines memorized. Well enough, that he knew what time you showered every night. He called you just as you stepped out of the shower, and when you answered, he was happy to see you naked and wrapped in a towel.

“Well, well, well,” he smirked. “This is my lucky day.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, setting your phone down on the counter, upright so he could see you. You dropped your towel to reveal your naked body, and he nearly drooled at the sight. “Don’t be a perv.”

“I am a perv.”

You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your clothes, sliding your hoodie over your body.

“Wait,” he said. “Wait, wait, wait. Is that my hoodie?”

You froze, standing there in an NYU hoodie that came down to your knees. “[y/n]? Princess? Did you steal my hoodie?” He asked.

“Borrowed!” You exclaimed, your voice squeaking. “I borrowed it.”

“I’ve been looking for that hoodie. When did you take it?”

“Borrow!”

“Okay, when did you borrow it?”

“That night...” You trailed off. “Before I left. I saw it laying there and it was a little chilly so I—“

“Stole it.”

“Borrowed!”

He giggled, “It looks good on you. Really good.”

“Yeah?” You grinned, twirling around in the hoodie, your legs exposed.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “Does it smell like me?”

You nodded, “Yeah, it does.” That’s part of the reason you loved it so much.

“Stay—stay just like that for me,” he pleaded. “Just like that.”

You held yourself still, posing your entire body in front of the camera for him to take you in. His hand had snaked down into his pants and grasped his cock, now delivering slow strokes along his shaft.

“Like what you see?” You purred.

Love what I see, he thought. But he only said, “Yeah.”

His wrist sped up, along with his breathing. “Fuck,” he panted. His eyes lowered into this sensual look, his teeth were gritted together. You gave him a sly smile, and turned around, lifting up the hoodie to show him your ass.

“Oh, fuck!” He shouted. Suddenly, he hung up. While you stood there, confused, he laid in his bed and withdrew his hands from his pants. He closed his eyes tight, attempting to calm himself. Soothe the feeling in his chest. But it wouldn’t go away. He missed you. He missed you so much, it was heart stopping, soul shattering, and it even got rid of his boner. He could conceal it for a long, long time. But that hoodie...

That damn hoodie.

Embarrassed from your last phone conversation, he almost didn’t answer when you called him that night. But he couldn't stop himself. When he answered the facetime request, he saw you — stressed, your face red and sad. “What’s wrong?” He cooed.

“It’s almost midnight and I have an assignment due and I have no idea how to do it and it’s worth a lot of points and I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You rambled.

“Okay, okay,” he sat up. “[y/n], babe, calm down. What class is it for?”

“Advanced film. It’s a quiz, I just—“

“Send it to me.”

“Matthew—“

“Send it. I’ll do it.”

“You don’t have to,” you sighed.

“But I want to. I don’t want you stressed. Just send it, I’ll get it done before midnight. I promise.”

You smiled at him, blinking away the stress-induced tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Matthew. Thank you so much. If you ever need help with anything, let me know, I’ll help. If you decide to take ballet next semester, I can really help.”

He laughed, and the two of you held each other’s gaze for a long time. It was full of softness, joy, bonding. A little love.

“Anyways, uh,” Matthew said, clearing his throat. “Can I see your ass again?”

You shook your head at him, laughing under your breath.

Quarantine couldn’t be over soon enough.

[PART 7.]

#mine #college!matthew #esny #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg #mgg smut #mgg imagine

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Note

How would your Yandere Ocs react to Y/N enjoy having friends? They are not into having a romantic relationship but they enjoy giving out platonic affection to their friends. Platonic cuddles, kisses, and hugs.

Anyone ever have those moments where not writing feels weird and unnatural? That's my current mood so decided to write this ask at 7am lol

Warning this contains: talk of sex but nothing nsfw, toxic relationships, yandere behavior, manipulation, blackmail

Theodore

As your friend he urges you to not do that

His scolding feels more like a worried father

He shows you the logical side

"what if someone catches feelings when you do that? Wouldn't be good"

He just wants your kisses to himself

If you become affectionate with him he will love it

Honestly though jealously will set in quite fast

You're not his but you basically are

You just don't know it

His suggestions turn into a warning if you keep it up

After seeing you kiss other people for so long it won't be long until he's snatching you up

Taking you away from that situation the only way he knows how

He makes sure to manipulate you, after all theodore works hard to make sure you see him as the voice of reason

He's so smart and reasonable he's only trying to help you don't you see?

"they really said that?"

"I'm afraid so, but it's okay you have me"

Theodore smiled at you gently, his news about your friends hating you shocked you to the core but you were unsure if you were to believe such a thing after all that simply couldn't be true you had a close bind with them

"maybe I should talk with them, we can work it out or some-"

"you know that not the correct answer dear"

Theodore pulled you in for a hug a long sigh escaping him as he held you close, his voice whispering in your ear

" you know it's true, be logical now. The facts simply line up..all those times they told you that they were all going to hang out only to ditch you, or those moments or the fact that they start to whisper about you when you just aren't aware, I see all those things darling"

Theo was a snake, he was able to make you unsure about it all. Placing a small seed of doubt was all it took to ruin everything, of course he did the same little trick on your friends making sure they doubted your friendship as well.

In the end all those friends you adored for some reason stopped hanging around you, you did never understand why but that was okay cause theo stayed by your side no matter what cause..that's what friends are for

Hikaru

Oh honey

He knows this game all too well

Hell he's played it before

It's so easy to befriend your friends

Win them over and win you over as well

It's all in the plan

Of course he wants to slam your friends' heads into a brick wall for touching you but that's besides the point

Flashing around his debit card was all it took to win your friends over

Once they were his..he corrupted them

Spreading rumors and gossip is his favorite hobby

From fake dark secrets about you to gross remarks

It wasn't long until all your friends thought you were a little whore

They all stopped hanging out with you after that

You have no idea why

It honestly broke you

And now hikaru could break you even more

"what do you expect from greedy little bitches, [y/n]?"

Hikaru had to hold back a grin at the sight of you teary eyes about your friends telling you that they don't want to be around you anymore. All that hard work paid off and he was way too happy, you were all his now but this wasn't enough

You had to want him as much as he wanted you.

"honestly though, maybe we shouldn't be fr-"

"No! Please! You're my only friend left!"

Hikaru eyes you with a cold stare now walking closer and gently pushed you down to your knees

"beg for my friendship, after all you're gonna need allies. I think one of them posted a nasty tweet on Twitter and it's going around. But with my help I can definitely make sure you're safe"

Your eyes widened and you honestly had no choice, it was either have your whole friends and family think awful things about you or become his best friend

Hikaru wasn't too bad..right?

"p-please, be my friend hikaru..I need you"

Hikaru couldn't hide a grin anymore as he leaned down roughly grabbing your face forcing direct eye contact

"that's right, you need me. Without me you will be alone and you don't wanna be alone..right, [y/n]? So be a good little bitch and do exact what I say"

His threatening tone terrified you but it scared you more to think what will happen if you didn't do as you were told.

Axis

Goes straight to guilty tripping

He should get the most affection cause he's your bestest friend ever

He needs you!

Please treat him far more special than the rest of your friends

He becomes extremely clingy

He is always around you..like always

He doesn't really get along with your others friends quite as much

He isn't smart like the others

This blind bag of rocks thinks being a brat will solve it

It does annoy your friends and they complain about him to you

If you try to break your friendship off with him he will break down sobbing

Will say anything to prevent you from seeing him in a bad light

"w-what are you saying, [y/n]?"

"we can't be friends, you're scaring my other friends"

Axis felt shocked but quickly knew what to do, tears rolled down his face as he sniffled now playing the pitiful pathetic role. Seeing his heavy tears made your eyes soften and you stepped towards him unsure of what to do

"it's cause I'm blind isn't it? It's cause I'm not like them right?"

That single sentence sent you in for a loop and you were quickly comforting them male before you knew it

"nononono! That's not it I swear! They all said that you've been threatening them and that you being clingy with me is weird"

"lies lies lies! It's not true! I just wanted to be friends, why do they hate me [y/n]?"

Axis suddenly reached out clearly wanting you to grab him so you did and he wrapped his arms around you hugging you close

"h-how come they can be clingy with you but I can't? That's not fair..they hate me cause of my disability, people like that are the worst"

Seeing how fragile and vulnurable axis was made you bubble up with anger, how could your friends treat him so poorly? There was no way he was making threats towards them!

He was such a sweet guy and having him sob into your arms made you confirm that! Axis wasn't a danger to anyone and your friends were selfish and cruel..is what you believed

Axis sniffles softly now hiding a small smile as he hugged you close, his sweet [y/n] will be all his someday, so what does it matter if he told a few lies or spilled a few tears.

Prince

So that's how you wanna play?

Okay!

Of course he's jealous but he isn't going to have a bitch fit over it

He knows what to do

He proceeded to seduce and sleep with your entire friend group

Gender does matter

Sexuality doesn't matter

He somehow did it

Once he did that it was only natural for things to fall apart

Your friends liked him

Loved him

Wanted to screw him

And he used that to his advantage

Having them fight each other was just amazing

It didn't take much for jealously to kick in amongst your friends

A simple hand hold with one of your friends made the others very jealous

You were blissfully unaware

You didn't understand why your friends were so tense around another

Then they started to bad mouth each other to you

It was utter hell and chaos trying to keep the peace

Prince of course was there to comfort you every step of the way

"babe, some people are just toxic y'know?"

"y-yeah, but this came out of nowhere like we were all fine I have no idea what happened"

You sat with prince in his room he let you vent our your troubles and you needed that. All your other friends were fighting with each other every chance they get and you still don't know why

"what do you think, P?"

"ehh, I dunno? People are weird huh? Well whatever it is dont stick your nose in it or they will snap at you too"

"yeah, I should wait til this all blows over, it will be fine I mean we are all best friends"

Prince held back a chuckle as he watched you, you trusted him and he loved that. He leaned close planting a kiss to your cheek

"how about you spend the night yeah? We can just chill and eat food yeah? You definitely need that"

"yeah sounds good"

Checkmate. You were his.

Yuki

Okay..do it to him

Kiss him too

Hug him as well

When he sees you go to hug or kiss someone else he quickly stops it by distracting you

Whether it be tugging your shirt to get your attention or showing you a random video on his phone of a cute animal

He will distract your mind for that moment

He end up stealing all the kisses and love

Your lap is just perfect for sleeping

He does have to dispose of your friends though

After all you two were 'dating' and cheating isn't a good trait

He does it by intimidation

Blackmail does the trick nicely

Blackmailing all of them has scared them away

But that's okay cause yuki will take all their affection

"I think she blocked me, I'm not in the group chat anymore what about you?"

You spoke to the male who rested his head in your lap, you two were in your room relaxing and as always yuki had his head rested in your lap looking like he was about to fall asleep

His light grunt answered the question for you and you gave a long sigh, your fingers now running through his hair and he's a satisfied groan from him

Yuki was a quiet one but you liked that about him, he reminded you of a cat.

"guess I'll try again later, a nap sound good huh?"

Yuki turned to his side his face buried in your stomach now as he held you close nuzzling his face into you with a pleased him. He wasn't sure how long the blackmail would work but it was working that's all that mattered to him

"forget them...'m here"

His soft whisper shocked you but you grinned as you leaned down kissing your best friend on his cheek

"yeah I could always count on you huh?"

Of course you could, he was your future husband!

#yandere imagines #oc x reader #yandere #oc imagines #yandere ocs

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

unless you take your army back ch. 5

First - Previous - Next - Read on AO3!

yo once again giving you guys a chapter how’s everyone doing? My posting dates will never again be on tuesday lol expect wednesdays or fridays when possible <3

anyways other business if you see an A/N in here somewhere (it’ll be between brackets) lmk and I’ll edit it out

Enjoy :)

cw: food, eating disorders, discussion of injuries

Jack didn’t leave to sell papes the next morning, instead bringing a cup of coffee and some porridge to Crutchie, then settling in beside him with a real fancy sketchbook and a charcoal pencil.

The coffee wasn’t that great, but Crutchie drank it all, hoping the energy would distract him from the uncomfortable tightness of his fresh bandages. Only one of the cuts that had split open was one that had needed stitches (Katherine had snipped the thread and pulled it out three days ago), but they would all probably scar. At least he already liked to wear long shirts and pants.

The porridge was fine, but rich. After about four bites, Crutchie rested the bowl on the windowsill. Just weeks ago, he would’ve been able to scarf down twice that amount in a matter of minutes, but now he could barely handle eating enough to feed a baby. He was sure he’d get better faster if he’d just eat more, but he just--couldn’t.

This wasn’t even the first time Crutchie had seen kids have trouble eating. At least half the newsies who did a stint in the Refuge came back uneasy around food, too accustomed to there being too little to go around. A lot of food was a trick, just the right amount was too much to stomach, and the little bit that they felt they needed wasn’t enough to keep them going.

So Crutchie knew that what he was going through with his food aversion was normal--expected, even. The frustrating problem was that Crutchie knew how to fix it. He had seen the others go through this, had watched Jack and Race and Specs help others, had even guided Tommy Boy through recovery himself just a few months ago. He knew the signs, he knew how to work through it, and yet he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t snap himself out of it.

Just the thought of food made him queasy, scared, uncertain of what was to come. When the guards brought food, it meant the respite was over. It meant scraps shoved down his throat as quickly as possible, followed by a day of grueling, pointless work with no breaks. He didn’t have the time to finish this bowl of porridge. More than a few bites and he was going to be tardy, the guards were going to beat him and he would fall and he wouldn't be able to get back up, not again not again not again--

“Crutchie, you gonna finish that?”

Crutchie looked up from his lap to see Jack, concern creasing his brow. He shrugged, not sure if he could even pretend to smile. “I didn’t see you eat, wanted to save some for you.” He didn’t need anyone’s help. He knew how to handle this.

Jack frowned. “Nah, I ate on the way up, nicked a bun. Is there some . . . other . . . reason?”

Stupid Jack Kelly and his ‘subtle’ prodding. Crutchie stretched his arms out a bit, affecting a casual look. A bandage rubbed against a raw patch of his chest, but instead of burning, it . . . itched.

That meant he was starting to get better, right? Or was it infected or something? Whatever it meant, it was a good excuse.

“Not really, just been itchin’ all mornin’, so I ain't all that hungry,” he explained, scratching his stomach for emphasis. “Bit bothering, y’know?”

He was sure he didn’t quite have Jack convinced, but it was enough for him to drop the matter. After all, Jack was under the impression that Crutchie had eaten a whole apple the morning before, and he’d been fairly good at emptying bowls of soup all week (not necessarily into his mouth, but Jack didn’t need to know that).

After a moment’s hesitation, Jack smiled. “Hey, itchy, huh?” He lightly punched Crutchie’s knee, which also didn’t hurt like he expected. “That’s good, means stuff is startin’ ta close up and heal.”

Crutchie nodded, feeling something in his chest try to jump excitedly. Even after falling so badly last night, he was getting better. That meant that maybe soon, he could be right back out there, hawking headlines and getting enough pity from his regulars and strangers to make twice the amount he usually did.

Thinking of it-- “Jack, why ain’t you out sellin’?”

Jack looked away--ashamed? Guilty? What? Had he gotten in trouble with the bulls again already? Jack muttered something, then buried his face in his new sketchbook, the tips of his ears burning red.

“That ain’t gonna cut it,” Crutchie said incredulously. “Who d’ya think I am, Race? I ain’t distracted that easy.”

Jack huffed, but didn’t drop his sketchbook. In a barely audible voice, he said very quickly “I soaked the Delanceys yesterday and the fellas think I oughtta stay away from ‘em and maybe take a day off ta give ‘em time ta forget about it.”

Okay, but attacking the Delanceys was something Jack did on a weekly basis. The Delanceys weren’t bright enough to carry a grudge overnight, and they were in a constant state of goading Jack, so what was different about this time?

Then Crutchie remembered their argument last night, what Jack and Davey had told him about how Oscar and Morris had been talking.

“Have they, uh,” Crutchie started, quiet, “been talking about . . . uh, ‘bout me . . . all week?”

Jack stiffened from behind his sketchbook, but nodded jerkily. “Tha’s what Specs said, anyhow.”

“Right.” Crutchie swallowed, looking away out the window. Buttons was out there, looped around a fire escape, calling something through cupped hands. The Delanceys were somewhere out there too, and could be talking about him that very moment, maybe even making plans to come after him. There was no way he could stop them, no way anyone could stop them. After all, Jack couldn’t be here all the time, and Kloppman was old, wiry but feeble compared to Oscar and Morris. They could take the man down in no time, then be up here and Crutchie would have nowhere to go and no way to escape.

Crutchie was suddenly very glad that Jack was here.

There were a few moments of silence, during which Crutchie continued to watch Buttons. His grin was visible even from this distance, growing wider any time he managed to sell a paper or two. Buttons had been having trouble selling lately--he was a little timid, too shy when it counts--so it was nice to see him having some success.

The lady talking to him now seemed nice, by the way Buttons was nodding and had fully disentangled himself from the fire escape to converse with her. The lady turned slightly, her face visible under her sun hat, and--hey! That was one of Crutchie’s regulars! She bought a paper on her way to visit her mother-in-law every other day, and always passed Crutchie’s selling spot on purpose. It was nice to see her again, almost . . . sentimental. Crutchie never thought he would feel almost misty-eyed over some lady whom he briefly interacted with a handful of times a week, but here he was. More than miss her, he missed being out there, he supposed.

“Hey, Crutch?”

Crutchie startled out of his thoughts. The woman was no longer there, Buttons once again attaching himself to the fire escape. Jack was watching him, a carefully disguised look of something on his face. Crutchie raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, so, I missed a union thing, what with last night,” Jack said. “So I’m gonna hafta do it today sometime. That cool with you?”

“What sorta thing?” Crutchie asked suspiciously. If it involved reporters and pictures and all that, Crutchie was not going to allow it to happen in here.

Not that you could stop it, a nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Jack could do anything to you right now. He was pretty angry last night, after all. You know what anger leads to.

Crutchie swallowed drily. He didn’t need to think about that.

“Oh, just a guy I gotta meet with,” Jack said, far too casually. He made a show of scratching his head. “He might bring another couple o’ fellas with him, so I’s just . . . lettin’ you know.”

Okay, so this wasn’t something he could stop. Great. That calmed him down so much. Crutchie gripped the blanket over him tightly, trying to not show that his hands had begun to tremble. He was fine, he didn’t need Jack getting all worried over nothing. It was just some . . . unknown guy. With bodyguards. Coming into the room to have a discussion with Jack.

“Hey. Hey.”

Crutchie pulled himself from his spiral to see Jack laying his hands over his. “It’s okay,” Jack said seriously. “I can chat with ‘em in another room, or outside. You don’t oughtta have guys in here that you ain’t know.”

Crutchie released his grip, more to assuage Jack than his nerves. He nodded, not sure what he was even expected to say. What if a fight broke out? And Jack was all alone, against three or four guys? He couldn’t let Jack be alone.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Crutchie said hoarsely. Wow, he needed something to drink. He hadn’t noticed his throat drying up. “I uh, I can be your second?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before he regretted them. Of course Jack didn’t want him as his second! He was just some stupid, useless, injured cripple, and Jackhad to still be mad at him for last night. He’d want Davey there, probably--Davey was one of the union heads too, right? And Davey was so good at talking things through and being all smart. All Crutchie could do was make people laugh or feel bad for him--great for selling papes and living on the street, terrible for union business.

“Would ya?” Jack asked. He almost looked a little bit relieved, which took Crutchie aback. “You know how I can get. It’s--it’s nice, havin’ somebody backin’ me up. ‘Specially you, Crutch, you’s real good at talkin’ to folks.”

The air left Crutchie’s lungs. Was he? He was pretty good at selling to just about anyone. Jack used to joke that he would be able to sell a pape to Pulitzer himself for a dollar, without the man even realizing it was his own paper or too high a price. Jack would say that to just about anyone who would listen, actually.

How had Crutchie forgotten that?

“Who’s these folks, then?” Crutchie asked, shifting a bit so that his head was almost level with Jack’s. He liked to think that he was pretty accustomed to the broken ribs at this point--they hurt, but he could now sit up without even breathing heavy. After the week he’d had, Crutchie counted that as a win.

Jack’s carefully casual air was back, clear in the stiff lines of his body and the forced half-grin on his lips. “Just some guys who got a say in newsie union stuff, y’know? From one o’ the other turfs.”

That made sense, actually. The Manhattan newsies weren’t the only ones in the union, after all. In fact, if what Elmer had excitedly told him was true, Davey had shook hands with Spot Conlon and led him straight to Pulitzer’s office, after Conlon had spoken at Davey’s rally--

Oh.

Oh no.

“You’s bringin’ Spot Conlon to the place we sleep?!”

“It was--”

“No no no, lemme get this straight,” Crutchie said, incredulous. “Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn borough, is comin’ here. To Manhattan’s lodging house. Now I know that Brooklyn joined the strike, but there is no way we’s become friends with Brooklyn in the two weeks I ain’t been around, and ya don’t show allies where ya sleep.”

“They already knows where we sleep, there’s a huge sign on the buildin’!” Jack shot back. He dropped his work and gestured widely. “Manhattan newsboys lodgin’ house, in big ol’ letters, smack on the front! Was it s’posed ta be a secret? Or do ya think they just can’t read?”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Crutchie replied stubbornly. “Ya don’t invite them into your home, you hold ‘em at arm’s length for when they in’vitably scab!”

“Well, that ain’t no way ta treat your allies,” a voice said from the doorway.

Crutchie and Jack both looked up to see the man himself, an unimpressed Spot Conlon, with two lackeys--and also Racetrack. Race waved casually.

“Hey Jack, hey Crutch!” Race said. “Spot’s here ta meet with ya.”

Jack strode across the room, spat and shook with Spot, anxiously adjusting his hat with his other hand. “Nice ta see ya, Conlon,” he said, the geniality in his voice a stark contrast from his heated arguing moments before. Crutchie snorted. Jack shot him a glare.

“So, what’s sayin’ we get straight ta business, Kelly?” Spot suggested, walking further into the room without invitation. Race tipped his hat at them all, then stuck his cigar in his mouth and took off. “This here’s Hotshot, and the other’s Sharpshooter,” Spot threw out, gesturing at the two guys with him. They each nodded in turn.

“Right,” Jack said, “This is Crutchie, he’s my second.”

Spot turned a piercing gaze on Crutchie. Crutchie felt his face heat up as Spot’s sharp eyes took in the patchwork of yellow-brown bruises on his face and throat, the scabbed-over gash on his temple, the splint wrapping his left arm. Finally, he turned away to face Jack.

“You met with Joe of late?” Spot asked. Jack nodded.

“Saw ‘im yesterday. No complaints from his side--he’s sayin’ they’s already noticed circulation goin’ up. You’s been meetin’ with the Journal and the Sun, yeah?”

Spot gave an affirmative nod. “We got ‘em where we want ‘em,” he said with a chuckle. Crutchie waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

Jack seemed sort of disconcerted--Crutchie wondered if Spot could tell. This was all happening so suddenly. Moments ago, Crutchie hadn’t even known anyone was coming. Now there were three Brooklyn newsies standing over his bed, and he couldn’t do anything to defend himself or make them leave. Brooklyn was always angry, always jeering, doing nothing to strengthen the tentative peace they had come to a few months ago. Really, Crutchie had good reason to be wary. Brooklyn newsies had more than once kicked his crutch out from under him.

Spot and Jack were talking about something, but Crutchie couldn’t really pay attention to them. The one called Sharpshooter was staring him down, in a way that said both I’m-trying-to-intimidate-you and I-don’t-need-to-intimidate-you-weakling. Hotshot was doing the exact same thing to Jack, but Jack seemed unbothered. Crutchie was pretty sure he wasn’t pulling that off near as well. He hadn’t been stared at like that--like he was a piece of dirt that stubbornly remained as you scrubbed at a window--since he’d been . . . there. The Refuge.

Crutchie turned his gaze to the window. Buttons was out of sight, the fire escape likely blazing hot in the sun. There weren’t very many people visible whatsoever--it was stifling out, which was probably why Brooklyn was already here. Selling would have to be done in a very particular fashion today--morning, at the coolest, when everyone was headed for work, then around the lunch hours, then the last few in the evening. Crutchie felt bad for the likely sunburned newsies, frantically trying to sell all their papes in those short windows of time, clothes sticking to them with sweat and the hot air weighing them down.

“Hey, Crutch?”

Crutchie looked back to the conversation. Jack was watching him expectantly, as was Spot. Crutchie tried to not look clueless--he had really been zoning out, hadn’t he? How much time had passed? Why was everyone looking at him?

“D’you mind answerin’ any questions Spot has? I’m gettin’ us all some water.”

Crutchie nodded. It couldn’t be that hard, right? He had totally lost track of the conversation, but he knew a fair bit about what had happened and what was going to happen with the union, mostly from Jack rambling in the afternoons when the silence became too much for one of them.

“So,” Spot said brusquely as soon as the door closed behind Jack. “All that from the strike?”

Crutchie blinked. All what? He needed a bit more context. He should’ve been listening. He opened his mouth to ask, then saw Spot vaguely waving at his body. Oh.

“Nah,” Crutchie mumbled, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Some of it, yeah. Mostly the Refuge, though.”

Spot sucked a breath in through his teeth, and Hotshot turned away. “Looks like you was lucky to make it out alive.”

“Oh, yeah,” Crutchie said bitterly. He almost laughed. “By the end there I was ’lucinatin’ so bad I thought I’d been buried already. Probably I was hours from bein’ gone forever.”

Silence. He’d made it awkward, hadn’t he? Crutchie tried to come up with some useful purpose for Spot Conlon to know this, like maybe he’d get pity or sympathy or something and the Brooklyn newsies would leave him alone, but it honestly sounded worse than Conlon straight up hating him. Crutchie was tired of being pitied. He was tired of being a charity case.

“How long?” That was Sharpshooter, his voice pitched a lot higher than Crutchie expected. It didn’t quite match his height and dark eyes.“Was you there, I means.”

“A week, I think. It’s sorta blurry.”

Spot whistled. “Snyder musta had it out for ya. All that in just a week? I’s had boys in there for months come out lookin’ better.”

Again, Crutchie almost laughed. “Everybody has it out for the crip,” he said bluntly, his eyes on his hands as he twisted the blanket between his fingers. “Throw in my personal connection ta Jack Kelly union leader, and a week is a long time ta be lastin’.”

Crutchie looked up. Spot was giving him a strange look--it wasn't pity, like Crutchie expected. It wasn’t disgust. It wasn’t even shock that he was still alive. It was--he didn’t know. And then it was gone.

“Crutchie, right?” Spot asked, glancing out a window aloofly. Crutchie nodded. “You’s a good kid. If you ever finds you in some sorta trouble . . . you’s welcome in Brooklyn.”

What?

He understood that they were allies, but allies did not mean that anyone from either turf was allowed to just go wandering over. The only person who had ever been allowed to was Race, who sold in Brooklyn--why, Crutchie didn’t know. Crutchie didn’t think anyone knew. There were plenty of good spots in Manhattan--why did Race trek all the way to a hostile turf just to sell papes? The point was, this wasn’t something that just happened. Ever. Brooklyn and Manhattan had been on bad terms for as long as Crutchie had been a newsie, and before that as far as anyone could remember.

Crutchie didn’t have much more time to think about it, though, as Jack reentered the room, balancing three glasses of water carelessly enough that it made Crutchie tense up, as if ready to catch one when it dropped. One he handed to Spot, one to Crutchie, and the last to Hotshot. Sharpshooter rolled his eyes and swiped it, half-draining the glass before handing it back.

“Crutchie clear anything up?” Jack asked. Spot continued to stare at Crutchie, a slight crease between his brows.

“Yeah, a few things,” Spot answered absently. “A few.”

The discussions continued for another ten minutes or so, Jack eventually convincing Spot that they were not currently trying to lower the price even further (“I’ve already got Bill down ta fifty-two per hundred, why should I stop?”), and got him to agree to work closely with Davey when Jack wasn’t available. That seemed to be all they could resolve for the time being without attacking each other, which was probably the most that had ever been done by a Manhattan newsie and a Brooklyn newsie working together. When Spot went to leave, though, he turned to Crutchie.

“Ol’ Jack ever oversteps, ya know where ta find us,” he said with a firm nod. “Any guy from Brooklyn will bring ya to me, jus’ say the word.” With that, he was gone, Sharpshooter and Hotshot marching after him.

Jack froze, halfway to gathering the two glasses from where they’d been set on the floor, his mouth agape. “Wh--” he tried. Crutchie could have laughed. He didn’t. But he could’ve. “Did Spot Conlon jus’--” he whipped around to stare at Crutchie. “What’d you talk about?” he demanded. “How’d ya get Spot Conlon ta make you an honorary Brooklyn boy?”

Crutchie shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure what had passed between them himself, and he also wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. It wasn’t like he’d done anything. Spot barely knew who he was. The first time they met had been today.

“W-well, if you isn’t gonna eat that, hand it to me.”

The change in subject took Crutchie by surprise, but he passed the partly-eaten bowl of porridge to Jack, who gave him one last suspicious glance before leaving the room.

Crutchie hated being alone these days--the only things worth doing were sleeping and practicing walking. The second one was off the table after yesterday, and he was sick of sleeping, but when there was nobody around there was nothing to do but think. Nothing to do but fall deeper and deeper into a dark chasm that yawned open in his mind. Nothing to do but slowly become more and more paranoid. . . .

He wished he had asked Jack for some more water before he left. Not that Jack wasn’t coming back or anything, it just would’ve been nice to not force him to make another trip.

When Jack returned some ten minutes later, though, he was not alone. Holding his hand was Katherine, laughing at something Jack had said before they entered the room. Crutchie shrunk away. He didn’t want to see Katherine--she would try to pay for a doctor to come see him or insist on checking each of his wounds or something equally mortifying.

“Look who turned up!” Jack said brightly, and Crutchie tried not to frown too obviously.

“Hi, Katherine,” he said politely. “How’re you?”

“Oh, Crutchie, you look so much better!” Katherine exclaimed. Crutchie examined her face carefully. Mostly the truth, but something in her eyes told him that she was still worried about him. “Look at you, sitting up and everything!” a pause. “Have you, um, been eating well?”

There it was. Crutchie hadn’t seen himself in the mirror in a while--every time someone carried him to the washroom, he’d resolutely avoided it. He knew that his face was still multicolored from the various stages of healing his bruises were in, but he hadn’t even thought that he might look malnourished. Elmer’s bracelet was pretty loose on his wrist, now that he was thinking about it. His unwrapped elbow practically jutted out of his skin.

Great. He’d spent a week in the Refuge and had come out looking like the most pitiful creature ever. He was so weak--it had been such a short amount of time! And now he’d been in bed for just as long, when he should’ve been recovered by now!

“Been workin’ on it,” Crutchie managed, trying not to let his thoughts show too obviously. “Hard ta get back up ta where it’s s’posed ta be, y’know?”

“Yeah, he’s been eating less,” Jack added. “It happens, but he’s been tryin’ ta eat most everything I bring him.”

Crutchie resolutely did not blush or look away. There was no reason for Katherine to believe anything to the contrary. Still, she and Jack watched him carefully for a few moments, then exchanged a look. Was he supposed to say something?

“Jack said there was quite the scare last night,” continued Katherine. “Are you feeling okay after your fall?”

Crutchie nodded. He wasn’t lying, actually. He did feel better than he had all week, even if all of his injuries felt raw from falling. Nothing was hazy anymore, nor particularly sharp. It felt almost normal, if the pain could be ignored. He was getting better.

“Why’re you here, Kath?”

Katherine’s smile strained. “Can’t a girl check up on her best friend?”

Crutchie leveled a stare of his own at her. This was the first he’d heard of being best friends. She had to have some sort of ulterior motive--a doctor or a medicine or something stupid like that. He hated to think it, but couldn’t she just leave him alone?

“Okay, I came--of my own volition, by the way--to ask you if you’d be willing to be seen by my family doctor--”

“Nope, thanks,” Crutchie said loudly, glaring hard enough to bore a hole in Katherine’s head. “As you can see, I’s healin’ up just fine.”

“It wouldn’t cost anything, my father--”

“I won’t be botherin’ your father, if it’s all the same ta you,” Crutchie retorted. “Nor no one. I’m gonna be out there sellin’ again soon, an’ if I decides I need a doctor, I’ll save up the cost myself and see ‘im when I feel like it.”

Katherine and Jack exchanged another look, one that told Crutchie they thought he was being stubborn. And so what if he was? Stubbornness had kept him alive countless times. His particular brand of stubborn had been considered both adorable and inspiring in the past. Maybe he was being annoying, but so what? Was it why they wouldn’t listen to him? Did acting annoying really mean he was stripped of his worth to them, his autonomy?

After a long staring contest with Jack, Katherine huffed and rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she muttered, turning away from both of them. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The lines of Katherine’s shoulders were sharp and tight, radiating tension that was echoed in Jack’s nervous stance.

Crutchie picked at the blanket. Why did every conversation seem to turn into a fight lately? He just wanted people to respect his choices. Heck, maybe he would take Spot up on that offer. It sounded nice to be around people who had no history with him, a fresh slate, a new standard to set. He would get to prove he was strong to them, instead of being cooped up because they were too afraid of how broken he was.

“Well,” Katherine said, straightening her shoulders and facing them again, “take off your shirt, then.”

Crutchie choked. So did Jack. “Uh, what?” Jack sputtered.

“Buy me dinner first,” Crutchie managed.

Katherine rolled her eyes. “You want to be back out there, don’t you?” she asked Crutchie. He nodded, a little scared of where this was going. “I need to make sure you’re healing well enough, if you won’t see a doctor. Then I’ll tell you when you can continue to sell newspapers. And Jack? Get us something to drink.”

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winter-turtle · 3 years

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House Of Wolves - Chapter 4 - Winterturtle - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Chapter 4: Letting Go Of What I Once Believed

There were only a few constants in Peter’s life – dingy rooms where he slept, the shoves that he’d learned were tad too strong to be considered playful, the compliments that weren’t really compliments…

Oddly enough, he’d come to accept the bracelets as another constant in his life. The bracelets that weren’t there anymore. He couldn’t claim that they provided comforting weight since they barely weighted anything, but he felt strangely naked without them.

The next morning, Peter counted exactly two plates on the table when he entered the kitchen. Right. No breakfast waiting for him anymore.

With his professional cooking skills, he made himself a bowl of bland cereal before seating himself at the table. Aside from the crunching of the cereals and the occasional words his parents exchanged when they showed each other something on their tablets, the room was quiet.

They paid their son no mind.

“So… you came for me,” Peter began awkwardly, not really knowing where to begin. He wasn’t in a talking mood after he woke up. Thankfully, he’d been ignored for the rest of the ride and then he used the aftereffects of the sedatives as a reason to retreat into his new room.

The weight of what he’d done kept crashing into him full force.

“Of course we came for you,” Mary said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you really think we would’ve left you there to rot? You are out little Spider!”

“Well, you left me there and then didn’t show up for five weeks,” Peter replied in a tone that he hoped sounded nonchalant and kept his face carefully blank, not wanting to appear that he was talking back.

Richard shrugged. “That was all part of the plan.”

“Plan?” Peter repeated.

“Oh, Peter,” Mary laughed “for such a smart boy, you sure can be stupid. Come on, I thought we raised you better than that.”

Peter pressed his lips in thin line, willing himself not to react to the jab. That could end badly for him very quickly.

“We’re not suicidal,” Richard continued, “we know that fighting the whole team of those heroes wouldn’t end well for us. That’s where you came in play.”

“You saved yourselves by leaving me there?”

“Don’t interrupt,” Mary scolded. “We have a client that offered a very nice sum for the plans of the compound. And what’s the best way to get those than to get them from the inside?”

So this was all just a stupid plan to get the blueprints and some inside info? For some reason, the thought of being used without his knowledge as some disposable pawn made the something nasty stir in Peter’s chest. “And you haven’t thought of, I don’t know, letting me in on the plan so I would’ve known what I was getting into and what was expecting of me?”

Dangerous waters. He was entering dangerous waters by talking like this, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Your behavior had to be authentic,” Richard said.

“I could’ve pretended.” Danger. Stupid. Shut up. “And besides, how could you possibly know that they would let me roam the building? They could’ve left me locked in a cell or had me shipped off to Shield.”

“Watch your tone,” Mary shot Peter a warning look, which made Peter grind his teeth in response. “Firstly, you’re not as good actor as you think. Your skills might work on random passerby or security guards, but not on a group that has several spies. And secondly, we knew because, well, look at yourself,” she gestured to Peter’s face. “You don’t exactly look dangerous with that baby face. That’s one of the reasons you wear that mask. All innocent and redeemable.” She gagged. “If you won’t grow out of it soon, we’ll have to do something about it. Maybe a nice scar or something. Maybe on the cheek or over the eye…”

Peter didn’t like that idea at all. If his mother wanted a scar that would stay visible, it would have to be deep and held open until it healed. The thought of the pain made his eye twitch.

“A scar like that will remove our advantage. He’ll look suspicious.”

“We could use make-up.”

“Will you dedicate the time to it? Because I seriously doubt that he’ll be able to cover it properly.”

Mary dragged her hand down her face, letting out weary sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

“They have feelings. They care,” Richard smiled as if they just weren’t discussing the pros and cons of mutilating Peter’s face, “and that’s their weakness. I bet that after they failed to get information on us from you, they thought they could “reeducate” you or change you or some other sappy shit and make you turn on us.”

Peter’s silence was the answer on its own.

“Wait, they really told you all that crap?”

“They did,” Peter admitted. “I knew they wanted something from me when they changed their behavior.” Peter put on displeased scowl. “Do you really think that if I’d believed them, I would be here right now? I played along to get nice things, that was all.”

Liar.

Richard nodded. “Good. And see how nicely it worked out? After we saw you on that roof, we gave it a few more days before coming to pick you up.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. Nobody was supposed to know about what happened on the roof except him and Mr. Stark. “You were watching the whole time?”

“We did,” Mary said. “I have to say, it was amusing to watch the Merchant of Death himself give you his hoodie. You had him eating from your hand!” she giggled. “He’s gone soft for some random kid. That’s hilarious.”

“So, where all have you been?” Richard asked.

“The cells, obviously, I almost made it to the exit while I tried to run away, then the living quarters I believe, the communal area, the gym, the roof and Mr. Star- I-I mean Stark’s workshop.”

“Mr. Stark now, huh?”

Shit. Peter didn’t like the glint in his father’s eyes. He shrugged, not letting the desperation to cover up the slip-up show. “Force of habit. Being polite gave me nice things too.”

“Well, you better unlearn that,” he spat back. “It looks like their manipulation tactics was at least somewhat successful if you got used to it.”

“What? That’s not- I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Well, to me it seems like you fell for their sweet words!”

“I didn’t!”

“I bet you believed them when they said that you can be better!”

Yes.

“I didn’t! I swear!”

Liar, liar.

“You are one ungrateful brat, you know?”

“What could they give you anyway?” Mary joined in. “You would be nothing without us. We made you strong.”

I didn’t ask for it.

“Where you would be without us? What you would be without us? Huh? Tell me. You might remember that much.”

Normal.

Peter remembered. It was hard to forget when it was drilled into your head since you could remember. “Nothing,” he said softly. “I would be nothing without you.”

“All that training we put you through—”

“Kid, that’s called abuse.”

“—it was all to make something out of you!”

Peter was tired. He didn’t wan to listen to any of this anymore. He needed some alone time.

There was only one way how to get it.

“You’re right,” he said, his head bowed, “but I wouldn’t be here if I believed them,” he repeated. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

All was quiet for a moment.

Richard sighed harshly and sliding a laptop towards him. “Go make yourself useful and make those plans. You better not become more trouble than you’re worth,” he grumbled, then gave Peter’s chair a kick. “Get out of my sight. And don’t expect any food until those plans are complete, nice and detailed.”

Peter wordlessly stood up and with the laptop under his arm, he headed out of the kitchen.

“Oh, and Peter?” Mary called out after him, making Peter stop in his tracks. “One more question – back on that roof… you had a perfect chance to kill Stark. That would be nice for your first time. Imagine that, killing Iron Man,” she said with a dreamy smile, “way to make a name for yourself. Killing one of the Avengers would get us so much recognition and power, more that we already have. So,” Mary looked at him intently, her happy demeanor gone “why didn’t you go for it?”

Now this was the time where Peter was incredibly glad that nobody could see his every thought on a display like in that book he’d read. “He didn’t have his suit on,” he said, his voice even. “He is just a regular man without it. It would be too easy. I want a challenge.”

Liar, liar, liar.

Mary contemplated the answer before humming, seemingly satisfied with what she heard. “Nobody would have to know that he didn’t have his suit on, but okay. I see your reasoning.”

Peter let out soundless exhale.

“You’ll get your chance soon.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now scatter,” she waved him off as if he was some annoying bug.

Peter clutched the laptop a little harder. Grateful to be released, he headed to the roof.

Tony had no idea how many times he’s watched the footage. He was pretty sure he’s learned everything there was to know first five times he played it, but what else he could do?

Absolute hopelessness – that’s what he felt. Some part of his mind still refused to believe what had happened.

Where had he gone wrong?

“Tones,” Rhodey softly said.

Tony didn’t turn around. His eyes remained glued to the screen. “Look,” he said as he paused the footage Friday had so diligently searched for since that night on the roof. Tony zoomed on the figure in the middle of the road. “He’s way younger here, but there’s no denying it. It’s him.”

Even if the hood was hiding most of the kid’s head, there was just a split-second frame where a part of the face could be seen.

Rhodey walked closer, leaning over Tony’s shoulder. “There is… a resemblance.”

“That’s not all,” Tony said and let the rest of the footage play out. He did his best to push back the memories that got brough up by the sight of the alien army. “See?” he asked. “The kid could’ve left that couple behind, but he went out of his way to save them.”

“Tony—”

“He said he didn’t save anyone and yet this proves otherwise. He could’ve stayed where he was, he could’ve run, he made himself that opening, but he didn’t!”

“Tones—”

“He had to have a reason for running, right? He couldn’t just up and leave because he felt like it, there has to be something—”

“Tones—"

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong! I though I have—”

“Tony!” Rhodey said, forcefully cutting Tony off. Immediately after that, his face took on a look of sobriety and pity. “Fury is here.”

And with just those three words, Tony deflated. He knew what was coming next.

“Hey.”

Peter glanced up at Richard, then returned his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Hey.”

Richard casually leaned on the wall near Peter, far enough so he couldn’t see the screen. “What a view, huh? I bet you missed it back in that jungle.”

Peter watched the horizon and nodded, because as much as he wanted to deny it, he did miss the city.

“How are the plans going?”

“Good.”

Another long stretch of silence.

“About earlier… I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way. We were just worried. You know we care about you, right?”

Were you? Do you?

“Yeah.”

“Full sentences.”

“I know you were worried,” Peter sighed. Time to use the magic words. “I’m sorry.”

“Great,” Richard said and went to the door. He turned around before he passed the doorway. “Peter?”

Peter wordlessly looked up, locking his gaze with Richard’s.

“You did alright out there. Here,” he said and threw small bar at him. Peter caught it with no real effort. “For you,” Richard finished.

“Thanks.”

When Peter couldn’t hear his father’s footsteps any longer, he opened his hand. A tiny chocolate bar sat innocently on his palm. For a long moment, Peter didn’t do anything. He just stared.

To be fair, he didn’t expect his parents to come to him only an hour later. Usually they took way longer. Every time he got yelled at, one of his parents would show up, say some sweet words, Peter would apologize and the circle was complete.

The routine was back.

But this time, he knew better. He’d learned.

Or did he?

Were they really that bad? They took care of him his whole life. It was thanks to them that he had his powers. But he didn’t want them in the first place. He got hurt more times than he could count with them. The Avengers didn’t hurt him. Well, at least not intentionally.

“Kid, that’s called abuse.”

Was it abuse?

No.

Yes.

They said it was for his own good.

Was it?

Yes.

No.

Maybe?

They said sorry for yelling.

They always said sorry and then did it again.

Peter set the chocolate aside and reached into his sock for the small disc he’d snatched from the workshop. He began to absentmindedly flip it, repeating the action of tossing, watching it spin in the air and catching it.

He glanced at the screen, seeing that the only thing he’d done was a very detailed plan of the roof… pretty much useless unless someone wanted to be a dick and steal every third pole from the railing.

The screen went dark. Peter returned to the tossing and when he looked at the horizon next time, the sun was setting.

Peter let the disc rest on his palm. Why did he take it in the first place? He could’ve snatched anything else – a gun, a bomb, plan to some secret weapon… so why the tracker?

“I don’t know,” he whispered under his breath as he looked at the tracker between his thumb and index finger. “I don’t know.”

Peter slowly increased the pressure. The tracker began to blink.

“Oops,” he said despite the fact that the action was fully intentional.

He didn’t know.

He went back to the flipping.

“All I’m saying is that all of this could have been avoided if you had let us handle the situation from the beginning,” Fury said as he paced the common room where all of the Avengers were gathered, sitting on a sofa with heads down, taking the scolding like a bunch of little kids.

Frankly, Tony was getting tired of it. “Fury—”

“Don’t Fury me,” the director snapped. “You tried to domesticate a villain—”

“He was just a kid that didn’t know any better—”

“—and look how it ended up. You loosened his leash, left him roam the compound and left him in your lab unsupervised where, mind I remind you, is technology that can do much wrong if it fell into wrong hands. Who knows how many information he’d gathered? Or what he stole? Seriously, you didn’t think of checking if something went missing?”

“Friday is looking through the inventory. If something physical is missing, she will notice.”

“Oh, because that will do so much good with him gone,” Fury’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “And need I remind you that he apparently confessed to murder from what I heard?”

“I don’t think he really killed someone,” Sam intervened.

Fury opened his mouth, but before he could let out a single sound, Natasha spoke up. “He didn’t.”

Those two words were said with so much confidence, Tony took them as a fact.

Fury’s head cocked to the side. “Oh? And how would you know that?”

“While we were in the gym, I gave him plenty opportunities to strike. I exposed my back to him since he warned us about that, placed myself in vulnerable position… yet he didn’t attack. Just empty words. Then I made a show of my arms buckling and he caught the bar so it wouldn’t crush my throat. You didn’t see the look in his eyes. He was scared. Plus,” she said, looking off into distance, “he doesn’t have the eyes of a killer.”

All was quiet as the team digested the information. Not even Tony knew the whole story.

“That was pretty reckless,” Clint said, breaking the silence.

Natasha snorted. “Please, do you think that I would place myself into a dangerous situation if I wasn’t sure I could handle it?”

“But he still ran away at the first sight of his parents,” Bucky said lowly, his head bowed. “It was going so well, but if I know something, it’s that two weeks isn’t enough time to get rid of lifetime of conditioning if exposed to...”

“To the abuser,” Steve finished.

Fury sat down, letting out long, tired sigh. “And now all three of them are God knows where.”

“Boss,” Friday spoke up, “I have completed the check.”

“Well?”

“One item missing.”

Tony tensed. “What is it?”

“An emergency tracker, prototype three.”

Tony’s eyebrows knitted together. Prototype three was the kind of tracker that could be activated without an outside power source. On the other hand, it was untraceable unless the person possessing it activated it.

Why would the kid steal that particular thing?

“What would he do with a tracker?” Steve voiced Tony’s inner thought.

“Maybe he didn’t know what it was?” Sam tried.

Tony thought back to their lab sessions. Had he told the kid about the tracker? He didn’t remember. But if he did, then why-

“Tracker activated,” Friday said, making Tony’s heart race.

Tony brought up a holo-screen where a red dot was steadily blinking in abandoned block in Queens. A grin slowly spread across his face, his soul leaping with hope. “I believe it’s time to suit up.”

Peter kept flipping the small disc until the sky turned black. Not a star was in sight.

A shiver run down his spine, but Peter sure as hell wouldn’t go inside to get a jacket or a hoodie. His parents would ask about his progress on the blueprints and he really didn’t need that right now.

His parents…

The hours alone allowed Peter to do something he’d never thought of before in the presence of the two adults. He allowed himself to feel. Memory by memory, Peter carefully catalogued every single emotion that came with it. Bitterness, fear, frustration, worthlessness, anger… those prevailed. The lack of positive feelings only fueled the flames of anger.

Thankfully, he could always fall on the calming repetitive action of flipping the disc before he could get overwhelmed.

The hairs on his arms stood up, but not because of the cold. Peter stood up as well. There was no one coming from the inside, so that meant-

They were here.

That was good, right?

With tiny smile on his face, Peter returned to his previous spot. All he could do was to sit and wait for the shitshow to unfold.

Boom.

Or not.

Against his better judgement, Peter abandoned everything on the roof and followed the source of the small explosion to the lower levels. More crashes and pops that suspiciously sounded like guns going off could be heart, but Peter was persistent and pushed forward.

Peter’s spidey sense flared up, warning him about the bullet approaching his head. He jumped behind the wall in the last second.

“Wait, stop, that was Peter!”

Mr. Barnes. And by the sound of it, there were also-

“Peter, are you—”

Whatever he was about to say next was cut off by an explosion that shook the whole floor. Cracks began to appear under Peter at the same time as he heard the floor under the Avengers fall. Peter didn’t have enough time to get to his feet and run to where the floor was stable. A chunk of concrete under his feet disappeared, and if it wasn’t for Peter’s stickiness, he would’ve fallen.

The concrete kept crumbling, not allowing him to get proper grip to crawl up, to get to safety. He caught a glimpse of what was underneath him and doubled his endeavors. This floor wasn’t the only one that was falling apart. At least four other floors were completely gone as well.

He finally got to stable part of the floor and pulled himself up. Doubled over his knees, he took in his arms that were both covered in deep gashes and superficial scratches.

“Don’t just stand there. Come on!”

Peter didn’t need more prompting. He stood up straight and ran after his mother. “What was that?”

“The defense system,” she said. “What, did you think we left the buildings where we stayed in unprotected?”

“This was everywhere?!”

“God, can you stop asking stupid questions already?” Mary snapped. “Yes!”

No, Peter couldn’t stop asking stupid questions because he didn’t believe this was stupid question! Every single place they were staying at was riddled with bombs and they hadn’t bothered to tell him? What if he’d accidentally set one of them off? He could’ve been blown to bits!

Peter kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting to see someone to run after them, but saw no one.

An electric discharge went off somewhere ahead, followed by a loud clang of a suit. No, Peter thought as he rounded the corner. If his lungs haven’t required the extra oxygen, he would’ve let out a sigh of sick relief. That wasn’t Iron Man’s suit lying on the floor, but War Machine’s.

Richard was at their side in an instant, giving Mary a quick peck on the lips. “Don’t dawdle!” he barked at Peter as he turned around and ran.

“Won’t you finish him off?” Mary asked.

“No time. We have to hurry; the whole damn place is surrounded by Shield. Stark’s suit is disabled, Barton is trapped in one room, but Wilson is still circling somewhere outside.”

“Three of them fell through the floor.”

“And what happened to him?”

“He almost fell through the floor too.”

“Idiot.”

They entered a vast room where the weird helicopter thingy was. Peter, silently putting the lid on his bubbling anger, almost didn’t notice when his parents stopped dead in their tracks.

“Looks like this is the end.” Mr. Stark, albeit a bit roughed up and bloody and with a single gauntlet, standing in front of their escape vehicle. “You might want to stop running. I disabled the thing and now we just have to wait for other to get here.” His eyes met Peter’s. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey,” Peter replied quietly.

“Well, looks like your chance came earlier than we thought,” Richard said and gave Peter a slight shove forward. Almost like he was hiding behind him. “One gauntlet will have to make do for you. There is no such thing as honorable fight when it comes to the likes of him. So, go, Spider. Kill him.”

After a brief hesitation, Peter began to advance. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t go against direct orders when his parents were present. But he already went against those. He took a step forward, then another. Mr. Stark wasn’t moving. Instead, he kept looking at him with so much sincerity and softness, it sent Peter’s emotions into overdrive.

Peter stopped within leaping distance. “Please, fight back,” he whispered.

“No,” Mr. Stark replied.

“Please.” He felt his face crumbling.

Mr. Stark’s eyes softened even more. “I won’t fight you, Pete. You deserve better. You are better.”

Was he better? Could Mr. Stark claim that after knowing him so short?

“I don’t know,” he said almost inaudibly.

“This is taking too long,” Richard grumbled. Peter heard a safety going off and he didn’t have to turn around to see the gun aimed right at Mr. Stark’s chest.

Before Peter knew what he was doing, he was moving.

Bang!

The shot echoed in the room and the next thing Peter knew, he was lying on top of Mr. Stark. He heard something rolling on the ground. The tracker. Not feeling any pain, Peter pushed himself up but still stayed in front of Mr. Stark, his eyes searching for the blinking tracker that came to a stop at his mother’s feet.

Deafening silence followed.

Explaining why he saved Mr. Stark was one thing, but he had no idea how he’ll explain this one.

“You,” Mary said lowly before realization her face contorted with fury. “You called them here.”

Another shot went off before Peter had a chance to open his mouth. He cried out as the bullet hit his arm, sending droplets of blood flying.

“Peter!” Mr. Stark was on his knees, the charging gauntlet raised. Richard threw another short-circuiting device to them and the gauntlet shut down. Peter heard Mr. Stark mutter a curse under his breath as Mary advanced.

“You betray us like this? after everything we’ve done for you?”

This was it, wasn’t it? He was hurt and Mr. Stark was out of his suit. They had weapons. But-

Peter was a weapon as well.

And his parents were only humans… unlike him. Peter wanted to laugh. All this time spent in fear of them, only to realize that all this time, he could’ve easily fought back.

“This is your last fuck-up.”

Peter leaped into action. The shock on his mother’s face as he kicked the gun out of her hand was so satisfying, it almost made the pain in his arm disappear. Peter didn’t waste a second. He spun around and kicked Mary right in the chest, sending her flying into the wall. She slumped down, unconscious.

His spidey sense tingled, warning Peter about another oncoming shots. He closed his eyes and let his sense guide him towards his father who was trying and failing to land a single bullet on him.

When he heard the click of empty magazine, he lunged forward. Richard’s arm went back. Peter knew him well enough to know that he was getting ready to punch him. Well, too bad for him. Peter roughly gripped Richard’s wrist with his injured arm, his other hand closing around his throat and pinning him to the wall.

“No more,” he hissed as years of something that was buried deep inside of him came to the surface. He squeezed harder. “No more.”

Richard weakly gripped the hand around her throat, fruitlessly trying to pry it off. Peter’s eyes narrowed. Seriously? He felt respect… no… no respect. Fear. He felt fear for him? It would be so easy to snap his neck right now. Based on the fear in his father’s eyes, he realized it too. Good, Peter thought.

A hand landed lightly on his shoulder. “Peter.”

Peter didn’t turn around.

“Kid, don’t do this.”

He deserved it.

“Pete,” Mr. Stark said softly, “I know you’re not a killer. I know you’re angry for what they did, but if you do this… there will be no coming back for you.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, then released his father and took a step back. His hands were shaking.

“Good, good. You did the right thing.”

Peter couldn’t tear his eyes from Richards’s coughing form. There were footsteps approaching. Too many. Too loud. The arms returned – one on his shoulder, one on his back.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Peter gladly let himself be steered away.

The place was a mess. The Shield agents were running around coordinating the search, marking the damaged parts and tending to the wounded.

Tony himself had his hands full with a certain spider kid. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” he reassured.

“But are you okay?” Peter asked.

Tony chuckled. “Come on, give me some credit. I can handle myself outside of the suit too.” For good measure, he gave the kid a slight shove.

Peter winced. Ah, that was right. There was still a bullet lodged in his bicep as a courtesy of his mother. “We better take care of that.” Before Tony could get attention of some medic, the kid reached into a nearby first aid kid, pulled out a pair of tweezers, set his jaw, took a deep breath and shoved it into the wound. Small grunts were escaping his throat as he pulled the bullet out.

“What are you doing?!” Tony called out at the same time as the bullet clinked on the ground and new wave of blood rushed down Peter’s arm.

“Had to take the bullet out,” the kid forced out. “More pain if it healed.”

Tony helped to ease him into sitting position before he could fall. He sprayed the wound to numb the area and stop the bleeding. The relief showing on Peter’s face was instant. “You’re so reckless. I swear you’re trying to get me into early grave when you act like this. And nobody would know a thing because it was natural—”

“I’m sorry.”

Tony cut off the lecture, taken aback by the sudden shift in Peter’s mood. Peter gaze was pointed down, not meeting Tony’s eyes. Gently, Tony placed two fingers under Peter’s chin and made tipped his head up. “Hey, I’m just joking. I’m not accusing you of anything. And besides, worse things have tried to put me to grave. They all failed, so I think I can handle one reckless teenager.”

“You’re not mad?

“Nope.”

“I ran away.”

“But you called us.”

“I didn’t have to.”

Tony reached into the kit and pulled out a bandage. “But you did and that’s what matters. Now sit still.” He was aware of the kid’s eyes on him as he worked. When he was done, he gave Peter another onceover. “Nothing else hurts? No other injuries?” Peter made a move to test his arm. “Nope,” Tony said and lowered the injured arm back. “Let that rest. So?”

“No. Nothing else. Just this.”

Sighing in relief, Tony stood up and offered Peter a hand. Peter accepted.

Fury walked over to them, Hill right behind him with a familiar pair of bracelets in her hands.

“What?” was all Tony managed to say. He watched as realization and acceptance flashed across Peter’s face. “Hold on, is this necessary? He helped us catch his parents!”

Peter brushed his uninjured shoulder against him as he approached the two. “I still ran.” He turned his back to Hill and extended his hands behind him, allowing her to place the bracelets on him.

Tony turned to Fury. “He’s not dangerous. He didn’t kill anyone.”

Yet again, Peter didn’t give Fury the chance to respond. “Even if I didn’t kill anyone, I still did a lot of bad things. One good deed won’t erase those, Mr. Stark.” The kid snorted, self-depreciating smile on his face. “God, I either did the best thing in my life or the worst mistake.”

“Kid…”

“It’s okay!” Peter said. The cuffs clicked together, the pull on his arm making him grimace. “I deserve it.”

“You little rat!” came a woman’s screech. Several agents were escorting – or more like dragging – Richard and Mary from the building towards the waiting cars. “You should have died in that experiment!”

“Just you wait!” Richard yelled. “Not even where you’ll end up being locked up won’t protect you from us,” he said once he noticed Peter’s cuffed hands.

“Don’t listen to them,” Tony said softly.

Peter shrugged. “A lot is going on in my head, so I’m kind of numb to everything right now. But… a small advice,” he turned to Fury, “I would keep them separate. It will make planning their escape harder. Plus, if the escape turned out to be impossible, they won’t be able to take the easy way out.”

“Easy way out?” Fury echoed.

“They’ve got something like a kill switch somewhere in their bodies. Theirs are interconnected, so they have to be together to activate it.”

Fury nodded. “Hey!” he shouted at the agents. “Separate them.”

More indistinguishable screaming and cursing and promises of revenge followed. Peter was seemingly unbothered by them.

“Hold on,” Tony said warily, “you said that theirs are interconnected. Does that mean you have one in your body too?” Please don’t say yes. The thought of the kid having a ticking time bomb in his body this whole time, and maybe his whole life, was unsettling. Please don’t say yes…

Peter nodded.

“Where?” Tony choked out.

“In my right ankle. It can be only activated by a set of moves and… well, when you get captured, it’s your hands that get bound. Not many people think about legs.”

“So all this time you could’ve taken the easy way out?” Fury asked. Peter nodded again. “Then why didn’t you?”

Peter contemplated the answer for a moment. “It’s only for situations where death is the only acceptable solution. They said they would come for me. They kept their word and…” he paused, something akin to a resignation setting on his face, “I don’t want to die.”

Maria placed her hand on peter’s shoulder. “We’ll get that out of you as soon as we can.”

Peter nodded for the third time, but this time, Tony caught something like a gratitude in his eyes. No wonder. Tony would have been grateful too if he was in the kid’s situation. He was yet again reminded of how much Peter’s been through in his short life. Just a kid, raised to kill and to kill himself if needed.

Maria began to lead the kid away, but Tony had to do one more thing before that could happen. “Wait.” He wrapped his arm around the kid, giving him gentle squeeze. Just as during their first hug, the kid stiffened under his touch. Tony was about to pull away when he felt something he hasn’t dared to hope for.

Peter melted into the hug.

The kid’s shoulders fell, his forehead resting on Tony’s collarbone. Tony ran one of his hands up and down Peter’s back. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Peter whispered back.

Tony let go and watched as the kid willingly went with Hill to one of the waiting cars.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Fury shook his head in amusement. “You really domesticated him.”

Tony smirked. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

As it turned out, the Shield’s cells weren’t as nice as the Avengers’. They were smaller and the clothes weren’t as soft, but Peter did his best not to complain. He’s lived in worse conditions before.

Two loud knocks made him look up. The slate in the door opened and a tray was shoved inside. “Food.”

Peter jumped off the bed and went to retrieve his lunch. Prison food wasn’t anything extra, but at least he was getting enough.

“Hm?”

There was something on the tray that didn’t belong there. Peter reached for the package and carefully peeled off the brown paper, revealing a book. The Ask and The Answer. A delighted grin spread across his face. He never got to read the other two books in the trilogy since the whole situation went down.

It wasn’t hard to figure out who sent him the package.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he whispered, opened the book and dug into the food.

The interrogations happened every other day. Peter answered every question he could, but he still felt bad that he couldn’t answer all of them. His parents – who were in the facility somewhere too, though he never saw them – kept more things from him than he’d originally thought. The names of their clients, sure, he never knew those, but as it turned out, there were about five other computers and twenty passwords he didn’t know about.

He'd contemplated asking them to let him try to get into those, but in the end decided against it. He could imagine how that would look on him.

And as promised, his kill switch was taken out. Peter let himself truly relax since he didn’t have to worry about the thing randomly malfunctioning anymore.

He wasn’t allowed to see Mr. Stark or any other Avenger. Still, every once in a while, he heard the familiar erratic heartbeat behind the one-way glass in the interrogation room.

The third book arrived the day after he finished the second one, along with the first one to keep the collection complete. With nothing better to do, Peter began to read the whole thing from the beginning.

If Peter counted correctly, today was exactly the month since he got here. More books kept coming, but the room was starting to get to him. He felt like he was going crazy. The interrogations also got more sporadic, so he didn’t get to go out that much.

Oh well. He’ll have to get used to it since this would be his life now.

The door opened.

“Wow, you look like you drank sour milk.”

Peter was on his feet impossibly fast. “Mr. Stark!” He stopped himself before he got too close. He didn’t need to get tackled because he seemed like he was about to attack.

Mr. Stark opened his arms. “The one and only. Now don’t let me wait.”

That was all the invitation Peter needed. He launched himself into the man’s arms, burrowing his face into his chest.

“Missed me?” Mr. Stark asked, amused.

Peter soaked in the warmth. “Eh, just a bit.”

“Lies. Everybody misses me a lot when I’m not around. But fear not, that’s about to change. Let’s go.”

“Where to?” Peter asked, dissatisfied that the disappearance of the hug. He trailed after Mr. Stark, hesitant at first, then jogged to catch up and glued himself to the man’s side.

“To the compound of course!”

Peter’s head tilted to the side. “The compound? But I—”

“Got moved into the brand new rehabilitation program for underage villains. It took quite a lot of paperwork and arrangements to get it done, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Your cooperation and good behavior helped too. Those,” he pointed to Peter’s bracelets, “will have to stay on though. No tampering with them, but we can get you a ladder to your hammock.”

“And my…”

“Lifetime in jail for them.” Mr. Stark ruffled his hair. “You don’t have to worry about them anymore. They won’t be able to touch you from where they’re going.” He wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “So, what do you say. Ready to go home?”

Home. Peter liked the sound of that. He smiled, all of the tension leaving his body.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

#marvel fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #villain peter parker #irondad #spiderson

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