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babyboibucky · 3 years

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The Match - Part 5

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in the middle of a predicament.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT as always, sort of public sex??? Unprotected sexy times, emotional damage lmao

A/N: Buckle up, babies!!! You’re in for a rollercoaster ride for this chapter ajckjasncjak I apologize in advance and please don’t hate me

AND BTW if you guys haven’t seen, I found the perfect playlist for this series lmao I saw the title and I was like HOLD UP this is perfect https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Eg5ZH6wMq4iocF5fWSesb?si=aff157a6198a4446

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Still awake, baby?

Fuck.

You screamed into your pillow upon reading Bucky’s text. It was quarter to midnight and you couldn’t sleep, especially not after Bucky told you that he wanted to make the relationship official.

It’d only been three months and you felt like he was moving too fast. And when he promised that he would find a way to snatch your heart the old-fashioned way? You wanted to explode because obviously, he already did.

But you weren’t going to say that to someone who already had a huge ego (and cock, too).

You composed yourself and typed in your reply, throwing your phone to your side after sending it.

Yeah. Why are you still up tho?

Not even a minute later and your phone began to ring. You sat up on your bed and squeezed your pillow, hating how Bucky had such an effect on you. Jesus, what are you, a high school student?!

You stared at his name on your screen before swiping and accepting the call.

“What’s up?” You answered as calmly as you could.

Bucky’s low chuckle sounded so fucking sexy that you had to bite your lower lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Still working. Can’t concentrate though, I keep remembering how you looked like with my cock in your mouth.”

You exhaled through your nose, “Jesus, you’re insatiable.” You said.

“Only for you, baby. You know that.” He said and your heart did a little somersault inside your chest.

“Don’t stay up too late, you have an early meeting tomorrow, right?” You asked, trying to change the topic because if you didn’t, you were sure how things would go.

Bucky let out another chuckle, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll just finish signing some papers and then I’m off to bed.”

You hummed and laid back down on the bed. It was completely silent but it wasn’t awkward. You heard the shuffling of paper on Bucky’s end, followed by the squeaking of a chair.

“You still there?” Bucky asked.

“Mhmm, you done?” You asked back.

“A few more papers left, baby. Can you wait ‘til I finish?”

There was something about talking to Bucky on the phone like this, so casual and so...mundane. It felt natural and comfortable, to think that this was the first phone conversation you had with him. He only sent you texts previously so this was new, but you had to admit, you loved it.

Bucky heard you yawning and let out a soft laugh. He sounded sleepy too when he spoke, “Almost done.” He reassured.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow.” He added.

“Yeah, okay. As long as it’s not in the same restaurant we went to after my promotion.” You groaned at the memory.

Bucky snorted, “We’re banned there, babe. Even if I wanted to go back there, they wouldn’t allow it.” He said.

“No shit, Sherlock. We got caught in their bathroom, of course they’ll ban us.” You huffed out.

“I was looking forward to dessert, you know.” You pouted.

“I got my dessert though.” You could hear Bucky’s smug smirk through the phone.

“Are you done?” Bucky whispered into your ear as he placed an arm on the back of the booth.

You shivered at his voice and nodded, grabbing your champagne and drinking it in one go.

“I promised you something, didn’t I? That I’ll give you something right before dessert? Meet me in the bathroom in five. Again, don’t be late.”

And with that, Bucky slid out of the booth and adjusted his suit before leaving for the bathroom. You clutched your heart and waved at the waiter who passed by, requesting for a refill and downing it before following Bucky.

You adjusted the black dress that Bucky bought you, you were surprised at how perfect the fit was. The lovely dress though, made you uncomfortable because of its length and the fact that Bucky still had your panties with him was making you feel even more conscious.

You were immediately pulled into the men’s bathroom as soon as you got there. Bucky tugged you into one of the cubicles and wasted no time to bend you over, lifting your skirt up to squeeze your ass.

“I knew I picked the right dress, you look good enough to eat.” Bucky grunted as he unbuckled his belt.

You moaned and pressed your palms against the door, pushing out your ass towards Bucky until you felt him line his tip up to your entrance. In one swift move, Bucky bottomed out and didn’t give you enough time to adjust.

It was fast and violent, the way Bucky fucked you inside that stall. Both of you were too caught up in the pleasure to even hear the commotion happening outside.

“Not gonna last long, Bucky...” you whimpered, feeling your legs tremble.

You’d been on edge the entire time, having been denied your orgasm earlier. And Bucky kept on squeezing your thigh teasingly during dinner, palm always inching higher until it settled close to your bare mound.

Of course, you wouldn’t last long!

“I know, baby.” Bucky said, sucking the skin on your exposed shoulder as he continued to fuck you from behind.

Once done with the sex escapade, the both of you were welcomed by the restaurant’s manager with a disapproving (and scarred) look on his face.

You blushed at the memory, “Let’s not do that again, please?” You said.

Bucky laughed, “Fine, fine. But dinner tomorrow, okay?”

You yawned at the same time you hummed, “Just dinner.”

“Wholesome dinner.” He confirmed. “Alright, I’m done with work. Sleep now, baby.” He cooed and you nodded even though Bucky couldn’t see you.

You heard footsteps and then the sound of the door closing shut.

“Good night, baby.”

“Hmm, good night, Bucky.”

To say you were giddy the next day was an understatement. You were on cloud nine after having a phone conversation with Bucky last night. You even greeted Janet the snitch a very good morning when you shared the elevator with her.

You entered your floor and offered everyone a smile, but you also noticed that they seemed to be preoccupied talking to each other.

“What’s up?” You asked Martha and the other girls who were huddled together.

“Haven’t you heard?” She asked. “Sophia shared an elevator ride with Mister Barnes earlier. He called a flower shop, asked for their most expensive bouquet and then went on to make dinner reservations at an elite restaurant!”

You paled at the discovery and cleared your throat, “And that’s a big deal because?”

Martha snickered, “Girl, we’re talking about James Barnes here, a rich and eligible bachelor. It is a big deal. And ugh, I wonder who the lucky lady is! What I’d do to be her.” Martha dreamily said.

“Do you think it’s an employee here? Fuck, I’d be so envious if that girl happens to be working here!” Sophia added.

“Is that even allowed? Sounds pretty scandalous to me.” Kate chimed in.

“Oh my god. Remember the pantry incident that Janet reported? What if that was Mister Barnes and his girl? Damn, that’s juicy. It’d be horrifying if they get caught.” Kate added.

Your head felt light-headed at all the information that was going on. Hearing their conversations felt like a bucket of iced water was being poured on you. It was like a moment of a major realization.

Shit, what has gotten into you, getting all tangled up in this mess? Damn you, Tinder!

Even if Bucky agreed to take things slow, you realized that it wouldn’t really help. If news got out that you were dating the CEO of your company, you’d still receive some backlash for it.

Maybe making it official wasn’t the right thing to do. At least, not yet.

“Ladies, gossip time is over.” You announced and tried to stay calm. “And speaking of Barnes, I need to submit a report.”

You nervously knocked on Bucky’s door, hoping that he was back from his early morning meeting. You could hear him talking inside and thought that maybe he was busy.

“Come in.” He called before you could even turn around.

Slowly, you opened the door and slipped inside his office. Bucky was on his chair, talking to someone over the phone. When he saw that it was you, he quickly put his phone on mute and smiled.

“Yes, baby? What do you need?” He asked softly.

Goddammit! Bucky was surely getting used to that pet name. Initially, he’d only call you that in the throes of pleasure. But somehow, Bucky began to use it so casually that it made you nervous. What if he slipped and called you that during a meeting, in front of everyone?

You hated how Bucky was becoming soft and gentle around you, well, except maybe when he was in a certain mood. It was confusing the hell out of you. But you also enjoyed being the only one to witness his soft side.

Was his offer to make things official because he truly liked you or was the fucking that good to make him want to commit all of a sudden?

“I uhh, I think I’ll just come back later if you’re busy.” You stammered.

Bucky held up a finger and then unmuted his phone, “Hey, something important came up. I’ll call you again later.” He said and quickly ended the call before turning to you.

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He said, his eyes the softest you’d ever seen.

There goes your heart.

“I think...” you trailed, not sure how you were going to say it.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you, urging for you to continue. You heaved out a deep sigh. Your hands balled into fists at your side as you walked closer to his desk.

“Can we raincheck on the dinner tonight?” You asked.

Bucky frowned, “Why?”

You shrugged, “No reason.”

“Lie to me one more time and I’ll have you on my lap for some spanking.”

How the hell does Bucky do that? Become all sweet and soft and then rough and dominating all of a sudden?!

You squeezed your thighs together because the image of Bucky’s hand landing on your ass was doing things to you. You willed yourself not to give in, you came here for a reason.

“There are rumors about you. Someone heard you making dinner reservations and now everyone’s talking about it. I just...” you paused to check Bucky’s reaction but as usual, you couldn’t read his face.

“Maybe making this official isn’t...the right thing to do.”

Bucky pushed himself up from the chair slowly and stalked towards you. Was he mad? Fuck, you hoped he wasn’t. When he reached you, his hand came up to brush your cheek with his knuckles.

“What do you want then?” He asked.

Shit, you never actually thought about it. What do you want? Keep things casual between you and Bucky? Completely stop whatever it was that was going on between the two of you?

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

“I like you.” Bucky stated and stepped back. “You’re intelligent and you don’t take shit from anyone, myself included. When you said you wanted to take things slow, I agreed to it. Hence, the flowers and dinner. Now that I’m giving it to you, you still don’t want it.”

Bucky’s livid. He was composed but the way his jaw tensed as he spoke was enough proof that he was mad, really mad. It’s his calm demeanor despite being angry that somehow scared you. The calm before the storm. What the storm was going to be? You didn’t know and honestly, you weren’t sure whether it was something that you even want to find out.

Maybe you were being confusing or indecisive but only because things happened too quickly for you to even properly process it. To think that you addressed your concerns last night, you actually that Bucky understood where your feelings were stemming from. However, it seemed to have gone over his head.

“Bucky, I don’t think you’re getting my point here.” You explained, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“If you heard what your employees have been saying about you and your...girl, you’d understand.” You said and placed your hands on your hips.

Bucky made a face, “Then make me understand. What did you hear?” he asked.

“We already talked about this last night! They’d think that the promotion was given to me because we fucked! That’s going to taint my image for the rest of my life.” You huffed out.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand as he paced back and forth, “They’re idiots if they think of that. What do you want me to do? Give a detailed presentation why I decided to promote you? Go through your evaluation one by one? He sarcastically said.

“Oh my god, Bucky. You really don’t get it, do you?” You let out a humorless laugh.

He shrugged, “You’re confusing the hell out of me. Just tell me what the hell you want to happen.”

“Maybe I just want keep things professional.” You blurted out in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t mean it. You so didn’t mean it. Fuck. You word vomitted and now you were going to regret it.

Something in Bucky ticked, you saw it. He approached you until he was towering over your frame. It was intimidating to say the least, the way Bucky stared down at you with a blank expression on his face.

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky asked, his eyes looking down at your lips for a quick second before moving back up to your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” you retorted and you’re not sure why.

Bucky exhaled through his nose and this time, you could read his face. He was fuming.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

The tension in the air was thick. The close proximity was making you dizzy, Bucky was so close that his scent was invading your senses. His jaw was clenched tightly as he looked down at you with piercing eyes and you were so tempted to just grab his face and kiss him and tell him that you liked him too.

But of course, your pride just had to be in the way.

“You don’t own me, Bucky. I am my own person.”

Another word vomit. You were Bucky’s the moment he laid his hands on you and you liked it.

Bucky inhaled and shrugged, loosening up before taking a step back. “So you want to keep it professional, huh?”

No.

“Yes.”

Bucky nodded, “You’re lying. I know you are. But okay then, professional it is. Let’s see how long you can keep lying to yourself.”

You watched Bucky walk back to his desk, sitting down on his chair with his arms crossed over his wide chest. His face was void of any emotion all of a sudden, he didn’t even look angry anymore and you hated how you couldn’t seem to figure him out.

“Anything else you’d like to discuss?” he asked, the professional tone of his voice sending chills down your spine, but not in a good way.

You slightly nodded, placing a folder on top of his desk before backing away. “It’s this month’s report.”

“Okay. You’re dismissed.” He casually said, grabbing the folder and skimming through your report as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

You felt a pang of pain hit you right in the heart when he looked up at you questioningly, as if he was wondering why the fuck you still haven’t left his office. At that moment, you wanted to take back all the things you said and just give in to your damn feelings.

But would you really let your career nosedive just to be with Bucky? You weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

You straightened up and maintained a calm demeanor, “That’s all. Thanks, Bucky.”

“That’s Mister Barnes for you.”

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

288 notes · View notes

tojisveryown · 3 years

Text

𝙸𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 | 𝟶𝟼

𝙰𝚌: 𝚠𝚃𝟼𝙸𝙳𝟸𝚀𝟺𝙰𝙺𝚄𝟿𝚏𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚝

𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷.𝟿𝚔

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝙰𝚄, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙿𝚕𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚕

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟼 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

(𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍)

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Spring was nearing to an end, the cherry blossom trees were on the verge of falling and the nights were filled with the sound of rain. Days passed and your spring break ended.

The weather had been horrible, no sunny days were near. The cloudy and gloomy days were ongoing. The weather report stated that the next few weeks would be cloudy and or rainy.

Your spring break was ending and school was around the corner. For the last day of break you did nothing but stay in bed, Utahime was out visiting her family so you were left alone to sulk on what you had overheard before break begun.

Your last day was spent thinking how you’d be able to look Gojo in the eye after the information you acquired. “Who am I kidding? It’s not like he’s talking to me anyway.”

You fell asleep sulking on the fact that tomorrow was hours away.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

You walked up the steps, reminiscing on the day you overheard Utahime and Gojo’s conversation. You knew that it was something that you couldn’t bring up so casually and that it was something that have had to come from Gojo’s heart. Gojo was the only one who would’ve been able to tell you, out of respect you decided not to poke your head into business that wasn’t yours.

You reached the floor where your class was held and pursued your way to class, along the walk there Nanami had walked by your side.

“Good morning Y/N.”

“Moring Nami,” you looked up at him and nothing had changed, still the same old Nanami, “You look the same.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” Of course it wasn’t a bad thing, you hated change. You’ve always loved consistency.

“Mmm, not particularly. See you later?” Nanami nodded and you both went your separate ways.

You picked a seat and got yourself ready for the first boring day back. You dreaded this specific class, and what made you dread it even more was the fact that Gojo had the exact same schedule as you.

It didn’t help that the person who sat next to you was the person who you sought to ignore.

“Miss me?” You knew who it was without even turning your head, it was the same person who was able to get your heart pounding, the one and only stupid Satoru.

You didn’t answer him, you felt as if there was nothing to say. It’s been weeks since he ignored you. Why the sudden change?

It wasn’t that he knew you were eavesdropping, right?

“Hey,” he nudged your elbow with his “No need to ignore me.” Hypocrite much? He rested his big, fat, obnoxious, ugly, bug-looking head on his palm and looked straight at you. His crystal blue eyes were practically burning holes though your head.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Throughout the lecture you were being bothered by Gojo, any chance he got he’d nudge your elbow and whisper things like

“Hey, are you mad at me?” “Of course I’m mad idiot, you ignored me for weeks” is what you wanted to say

“Y/N, talk to me”

“Y/N the lectures almost over”

“Y/N let’s have lunch!”

You didn’t respond, it was time for Gojo to be ignored while you did the ignoring. Noticing that you wouldn’t respond he began passing you notes, he’d write down things on sticky notes and stick them on your notebook, arm, and even head.

Most of the things he wrote were trying to get your attention, and when he got bored he began drawing penis’s on the notes and sticking them all over your arm. You gave him the side eye signifying you were done with his shit.

He looked up at you and noticed your sharp gaze, “I’m sorry.” He said as he took the sticky notes off your arm, notes, back, and backpack.

He sat quietly next to you until the lecture was over.

He noticed you weren’t packing your things, “Hey, class ended. Come on Y/N let’s get lunch.” He pulled your arm and grabbed your notebook.

“Gojo would you please leave me the fuck alone? I’m trying to work on this godforsaken project that you were supposed to help me with.” Gojo let go of your arm and flipped through your notebook.

“These note’s suck Y/N we’re never gonna get an A with this.” he looked at you innocently as you violently grabbed the notebook from his grip.

“Fuck off Gojo, I’m trying here.”

“Not hard enough.” you sighed and packed your things going into the opposite direction from him. You were sick of Gojos antics.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

You found a seat at the very back of the library, you came here often especially when it was to study. You liked how peaceful it was and how not many people were around giving you the advantage.

Just when you were about to open up your notebook you were startled when hands appeared in front of your eyes.

“Haha, so funny. I’m dying. Gojo i swear to god keep bugging me and I’ll kill you.” You later realized that Nanami’s hands were over your eyes after he let out a small laugh.

“You sound stressed.” Nanami pulled the chair beside you and sat down, “You okay Y/N?”

“Yeah sorry, this projects killing me.”

“Mhm, is Satoru not helping you?” you flinched at his name, you had given up on calling him Satoru. He broke your trust. You hoped that he’d realize you went back to calling him Gojo, right?

“Not in the slightest.”

Nanami helped you revise your notes and for the rest of the break period you and Nanami caught up. You had heard how his spring break was and how he trip to Malaysia with his family went. You and Nanami had grown closer, and this didn’t go unnoticed by a certain blue-eyed boy.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

The following day Gojo again tries to talk to you but you ignore him, you were done with the inconsistency he had with you and you hated the fact that you’d always find yourself slipping when it came to him.

“Y/N come on, why would you talk to me?”

Silence

“Y/N please.” still nothing, “I’ll work on the rest of the project if it means you’ll talk to me again.”

“Okay deal but you’re on thin fucking ice Gojo.” and again you let yourself slip.

You had thought it’d be best for you to bury what you had heard about him deep into your heart. It was something that Gojo himself would decide to tell you and if he never spoke up about it, it comes to show that he never truly cared about you. You wanted to believe he did but why was it taking him so long to fess up?

“Hey, let’s go on another date to you know.. catch up?”

⋆ 💌 ⋆

It was a Saturday afternoon, the skies were gloomy and grey and the weather was still horrible. The weather constantly put you down, you felt like it was too much of a drag to even get out of bed.

“Oh that’s right, I have a date with Gojo today.” You almost had second thoughts with the way you felt, you wanted to stay in a ball wrapped up in your sheets.

Nonetheless you still got ready, during break to keep yourself distracted you went shopping for new clothes, you wanted to give yourself a new imagine, a makeover. It was time you come out of your shell, new beginnings were approaching, you couldn’t stay the same forever. You wanted change, you almost craved it.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

It was 6:47, You waited at the train station for Gojo, you came there fairly early but you couldn’t wait to get this stupid date over with. You don’t even know why you agreed, one thing led to another and your mouth moved on its own and now you’re here.

You knew you had came a few minutes too early but you didn’t expect to wait a total of two hours. It was about to be nine o’clock and yet no sign of Gojo, not once did he text or call.

“Maybe he forgot..” you sighed and looked up at the dark cloudy skies. “Ha, who am I kidding he didn’t forget.” You knew Gojo was a player, tons of girls fawned over him and craved his attention. You knew Gojo couldn’t resist their attention. You knew that the last thing he would crave, was yours.

Still, you waited another hour. By now there were a few crowds of people but you still weren’t able to spot the blue-eyed man.

Another hour passed by and it was nearing midnight. You wanted to believed he’d show up and that he didn’t forget, but with Gojo believing was never bound to end up well.

You took a deep breathe and stood up from the bench you were hopelessly waiting at. You dragged your feet to the exit and just as you were about to take the first step leading outside your eyes met with a panting Gojo

“Y/N.”

Was your hope being tested?

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I thought our date was tomorrow and then I saw-”

You cut him off by pulling him into a hug, “Shut up Satoru.” Your watery eyes hid themselves into the hoodie he was wearing. It smelt like the hospital, you knew he was lying. He didn’t forget, he needed an excuse.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Gojo took you to his apartment, it was late and most of the things you two could’ve done were already closing. His apartment was on one of the highest floors and the balcony he had gave you two the perfect advantage for stargazing. He set up a comfortable space for the both of you.

The stars weren’t completely visible but the dark clouds was indeed a sight to see. The silence between you and Gojo was very comforting.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight isn’t it, Y/N?”

“Huh? It looks the same as always.”

Gojo laughed, his head was now turned facing you and moments later you turned to face him. You two stared into each others eyes, you both saw sadness and regret. You both craved a happy ending.

Gojo leaned in and placed his soft lips on yours. One thing led to another leading you and him onto his bed. Tonight was the night where you and Gojo became one.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

“I’m glad we spent time together. This will be one of my favorite days for the rest of my life.”

“Stop being corny.”

“Y/N.” He looked at you deeply with his crystal eyes, the moonlight shining on his skin, the warmth of his body pressed up against yours made this night special. Sadly all good things come to an end. “I’m sick.”

“I know but it’s just a little while longer and th-”

“She really is right you know, you really are a stupid Satoru.”

“Utahime it’s not like I can fucking tell her ‘Hey I have pancreatic cancer and I’m dying!’ Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

“Satoru-”

“Fuck I know okay?”

“If you know tell her. Do you honestly think she would be okay if one day you just stopped showing up?”

“There’s no hope for us, you know that Utahime. I refuse to be the reason that she can’t love after I’m gone.”

“You’re gonna be her biggest regret if you don’t love her now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gojo’s expression on you softened, he cried in your arms and you cried in his, knowing the person before you was soon about to be yet another faint memory.

You finally understood why the weather had been horrible, mother nature felt for you and Satoru. That night the sky cried with you both.

“How much longer do you have?”

⋆ 💌 ⋆

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 :) 𝙰𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

⋆ 💌 ⋆

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @peppytine @enesitamor @fairyblue-alchemist @diluczs @honouredsatoru @thankuary @sookyshima

⋆ 💌 ⋆

278 notes · View notes

scriptaed · 3 years

Text

bygones of the sun. 09 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 5.5k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Moonlight bellows in the background of the warm, golden-lit room—crashing and seceding, crashing and seceding, repeatedly colliding against the jagged rocks by the cliff like tidal waves out at sea in the deep sway of the black night. Under the hypnosis of the jet-black skies absent of the charming twinkling of the stars, you had somehow stumbled through the retreat to your room. You aren’t exactly sure what you had seen—and perhaps, out of consideration for your well-being, you simply don’t want to nor need to comprehend your sightings—but the glutinous image of the broken boy sticks to your chest akin to a dark secret weighing heavy on a sinner’s heart.

And somehow, amidst the long night looming ahead of you, the spur of emotions sweeps you before the door of his room.

Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat and whisper hesitantly next to the wooden frame, “...Hoseok?”

In the red-carpeted hall where dozens of fellow camp attendees rest until the next sunrise, you stand there wondering if Jimin had mistyped the captain’s room number on the emergency flyers. The overwhelming guilt of having pushed Hoseok to his breaking point, albeit unknowingly, had forced the heavy footsteps of yours to this very spot, but now that you’re faced with silence as an answer, you figure perhaps it isn’t in your fate to confront him tonight; it would be the easier way out, at least, for irrationality had bewitched you and plans on what to even say were the last things on your mind… until now.

Subconsciously, your knuckles meet the cold wax finish of his door once again.

One knock, two knocks, and alas, a sigh.

Your hands drop to your sides in defeat, despite regretting your rash decision which had brought you here in the first place. You glimpse around to ensure that the coast was clear, and when the last sigh escapes your lips and the balls of your feet pivot to your left, only then does the door swing wide open.

“What do you want?”

Whirling around, you find Hoseok standing aside where one arm leans against the door frame and the other hides behind the door, clutching the gold handle. As you gaze at him in silence, too taken aback to make your next move, Hoseok stands there, heavy-lidded and jaws clenched, disgruntled by your late night appearance.

The uninviting glare of his elicits the uncomfortable shift in place of your footsteps. It’s a rare moment for goosebumps to rise and chest to constrict when in the presence of someone as playful and flirtatious as Hoseok, but the sudden cold mien of his persona now conveys to you that you’re not welcome here tonight.

“I… I was just…” your eyes dart to the floor as your mind crashes into auto-pilot, searching for any form of excuse other than the truth too unready to be exposed, “I couldn’t fall asleep. So—”

“—you could’ve texted me,” he refutes, brows furrowing, but all your eyes are fixated on are what appears to be beads of sweat dripping from his damp bangs. And when he notices the softening of your wandering eyes, his voice nearly drowns in the waves of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the buzz of the vending machine which shrills in your eardrums to this very second.

From the tee which drapes his upper body and his sweatpants which masks the witnessed scene weighing heavy in your heart, everything about him now would serve as the perfect facade of a normal captain disturbed from his sleep. But at least he's still up, at least he's still trying, at least he answered your call.

You want to believe he’s okay again, that everything you had seen was just a misunderstanding, but something tells you the sun won't be rising again after tonight, and that very thought plagues you of your sleep.

A few seconds pass as you scan him over in a confusing mixture of both disbelief and relief, when Hoseok half scoffs and half chuckles, frowning at your expression, “is something bothering you? You look like you're almost glad to see me for once.”

“...why are you sweating?” you blurt, his words completely missing you as your eyes fixates on the beads of liquid plastered across his temples and trapped in his brows.

“Sweat…?” Hoseok arches a concerned brow before pressing his lips into a thin line. “This isn't sweat… I just got out of the shower. What makes you think that, though?”

Your lips part, but silence ensues when you realize neither you nor him seemed prepared enough to tackle the true reason as to why you're here.

“Nothing… really. It was just the first thing which came to mind.”

Hoseok nods, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the conversation comes to an abrupt end. “So…” he drawls, “what do you need?”

“I didn't need anything, per se,” you emphasize, eyes averting to the side and away from his watchful gaze, “I just… wanted to talk. I didn't get to talk to you much today.”

Usually, at a point like this, Hoseok would tease you; “someone's a bit needy today, and I know you're pure and untainted and all, but shouldn't you at least know not to come begging for attention to a guy's room at midnight”—is what he would've said, but tonight, the tidal waves under the wavering moon dictates otherwise.

“Look, Y/N,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans his entire weight against the doorframe, “I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I want to be alone.”

But does he? Because the gleam in his softened eyes, the windows to his soul, are begging you to accompany him through the long night.

“Are you… okay, Hoseok?” you ask, brows cinching in concern.

He flinches, but his brows immediately lift to mask the initial response. “...yeah,” he finally says after a long pause, taking a deep breath and sighing, eyes never budging from yours, “...I'm fine. Now go sleep if you're done badgering me.”

“Okay… you should sleep, too.”

“Yeah,” he utters under his breath, eyes glued to the ground as he mumbles, “I'll try.”

“Try…?”

“I have a lot of things on my mind and decisions to make tonight,” he explains with a final sigh, the void in his eyes lifting to meet yours once again, and you don't notice until now the purple-blue dark circles which only emphasizes the absence of his usual vigor. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

And ever so quietly, as if none of the conversation had taken place under the mist of the night perched high up on the mountains, the door closes on you, and the walls between you and Hoseok become thicker than ever.

You can't tell what's on his mind. You can't even tell what's on your own mind. All you can convey is the sheer dejection, the unusual lethargy radiating from Hoseok akin to a captain too prideful to allow his pupils to witness his own cracks and falls.

You're partially responsible for this—no, somehow your mind had convinced you that you're the one completely responsible for this. If you hadn't pushed him to return, maybe things wouldn't have gotten this far. You had reopened a wound like ripping stitches off a gash still in the process of rehabilitation.

And sometimes, wounds of seconds can inflict more pain than its first and leave deeper scars than the past itself.

You're guilty as charged, and you want to fix things now, but the unwelcoming tone of tonight's conversation tells you it might just be too late. If you've acknowledged your mistakes but the other is unwilling to receive your sympathy, what else are you supposed to do?

You had hated the new Hoseok for laying the death of the old, but now that you stand here before his guarded walls and closed door, maybe things would've been better the way they were before.

But that thought finds you as ridiculous, and the very fact that a part of you still wants to aid him in rediscovering your first love at the expense of the person he is now, finds you even more horrendous.

For now, a shower is the only concoction for such a plague.

Water beads drip from the ends of your hair to the cottons of the white towel hanging from your neck. A rush of goosebump inducing air envelops you the second your right foot meets the carpet beyond the bathroom tiles. Besides the remaining drip drops of the water draining in the bathtub behind you, all that is left in the sanctuary of your room is what should have been silence.

Because you can still hear the buzz of the vending machine, the familiar squeaks of sneakers, and worst of all, his wincing breaths endowed with despair still echo in the back of your mind—gradually quickening and crescendoing into a chaos of a symphony without its conductor until everything collapses, the squeaks and the huffs replaced by the ominous buzz of the machine.

As you run through your hair and turn your back on the door to further bury yourself in the depths of your sanctuary, a sudden rise of events interrupts the temporary serenity with the strike of fear into your racing heart.

A series of slurred knocks—two loud, quick knocks followed by one hesitant bump of the knuckles—elicits a ring in your ear as you cautiously turn on the balls of your feet to face the door head on.

The numbers 1:15 A.M. blink in red digital font from the desk beside your bed.

Who could possibly be visiting you at this time of the night?

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice strained with lethargy finally announces after a sigh, and as if reciting words to a spell of witch craft, your heart stills and your body freezes… because did you really just hear Hoseok? Outside your room? The one who had just turned you away without a blink of the eye?

Even with the mess of your mental state after finally digging up the answer you had been searching for all along, the only and greatest fear which plagues you now is the thought of whether the victim, Jung Hoseok, had somehow caught onto you preying upon his darkest of secrets.

After half a minute of silence, Hoseok sighs once again with a groan, “I’m not here to mess around with you if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m on duty for patrolling tonight, and I noticed your light was on. Now open up, would you?”

The walk to your door seems to take you centuries, because the second your hand pushes the handle even an inch down, the door swings wide open to reveal the rather irritated, profusely impatient boy standing on the other side.

“Could you be any slower?” he remarks, eyes peering down at you, unamused. “You’re even slower than me and I worked out more than…”

His white tee shifts underneath his crossed arms as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. The intensity of his eyes with bags and dark circles drooping below elicits a shift in your own body of discomfort. Your own eyes retreat to the ground when his brows cinch and you can tell he’s scanning you over, just seconds away from catching you red-handed.

“...w-what? Can you stop staring at me like that?”

“What? I’m not checking you out or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Hoseok scoffs for a fleeting second before silence befalls his lips—and suddenly, the warmth of his hands radiate from your cheeks. A lock of your hair lies in the palms of his long, delicate fingers just barely grazing your cheeks, and it doesn’t take you very long to hastily cover your reddening ears and cheeks with your dampened towel. He frowns, not at your sheepish behavior, but for the wet strands of hair which are all that he fixates on, “did you just work out or something?”

Shouldn't you be the one asking him that? It's as if the irony of his actions is his own method of begging to be exposed without having to come out and ask for it himself.

“No,” you retort, scrunching your face at the absurdity of his suggestion.

Just as you’re about to pull away from his touch, Hoseok retracts his hands from the proximity of your cheeks before what would usually be another one of his mischievous acts; and as much as his sneaky pecks and meaningless affection had once infuriated you, it’s hard to admit how empty you now feel in the absence of its wake. His retreat made of his own will is a first for you.

“Then why are you showering at 1 A.M. in the morning?” he cocks his head with a raised brow.

“Says you—”

“—but at least I have an excuse. I was busy cleaning up after practice,” he retorts and shifts his weight to his other leg, musing, “you, on the other hand…”

“B-Because…” you cross your arms and shoot him the most annoyed glare you could muster; while meeting and comforting him were all that shrouded your mind just a few minutes ago, seeing him in a completely fine state like this is enough to put you to peace and shoo him away for now. “...I slept through the entire day and forgot to shower.”

“...okay,” his lips pressed into a frown gradually bursts into a large grin plastered with second hand embarrassment. “While you kept nagging at me to ‘attend dance camp’ and pick up dancing again, which I so dutifully obliged to tonight, you hide yourself in the corner of your room and sleep the day away?”

“Oh, shut up. It's not like I'm an actual dancer like you—” you roll your eyes before stopping mid-sentence; was that too insensitive of you to say considering the struggles Hoseok seemed to be going through? Clearing your throat, you lift your head high and sigh, “so what’re you doing here? I thought you were busy thinking the night away.”

“Like I said, I'm on patrol tonight. Are you even listening to me or are you to busy fantasizing about all the things we could've been doing in my room right now?” he teases and gently knocks his knuckles on your head.

His entire demeanor had reverted to his usual self, and as concerning as it is to wonder whether this is all an act too painful to witness yourself, you're glad to see him joking around again, even if it's forced.

“No, that's the last thing on my mind, but I guess it's not the same case for someone here,” you roll your eyes.

In retaliation to your indifferent attitude, Hoseok leans against the doorframe with a scoff, pulling you back in as you pushed him out. “Like I said, Ms. I Like To Break Rules Because I’m Dating the Captain, you’re supposed to be asleep by now.”

“I’ll turn off my lights after I blow dry my hair, Mr. Ex Dance Captain—” you bite your tongue when you notice the twitch in his darkened eyes and hardened jaw “—I mean, I'm not dating you.”

At this point, you’re not even sure how to address his relationship with dance, if you should even do so at all.

“So, if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, giving him one last pressed smile and stepping back to close the door; but before you could do so, Hoseok swiftly juts a foot out to interevene, and a simple question ensues.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

All efforts to protest dissipate when he turns his head to face you and lets out a scoff in disbelief, eyes completely empty, and you nearly have to lean in to catch his next words.

“You’re always so cold to me,” he lets out a soft laugh and cracks the most reluctant of grins. “Why do I even bother being disappointed at this point?”

A few seconds of tense silence goes by before it occurs to you what he had just said.

For once, he actually cares about what you say? He’s taking your meaningless banters to heart?

“I’m turning off my lights now,” you frown at him, but his attention remains elsewhere, “isn’t that what you came here to do?”

“You really...” he scoffs and lifts his head, eyes piercing yours and opening the window to his souls; shaky, colorless, lost and infuriated by the calamity of the world before him, in the world you present him. “...do you really think I came here just for that? I could care less what time you sleep.”

“O-Okay…” you stutter; you know there isn’t anything to be hurt over, because what he’s saying has made you believe is of the utmost truth, but the unusually blunt implications of his disingenuity comes on all too harsh.

His constant switch in demeanor is all too confusing to keep up with tonight, and quite frankly, you don't know how to read him anymore, as if you ever could.

His lips part, words of apology ready to be uttered, and his eyes soften in worry for a swift second, but when the clock ticks twice, his jaw hardens the invisible wall built between the two of you.

And for the first time in a while, he’s actually acting like the infamous reputation he had been endowed; because he doesn’t apologize, and now your guts begin to twist and turn, wondering whether you had done something wrong.

Was he in a bad mood because of what you had seen just half an hour before? Should you confront him about it? Should you comfort him? Would words of encouragement even help? Is that what he’s asking for?

Is that the true reason as to why he’s here? Is he… asking for help?

“I’m here to check up on your ankle.”

His mumbling interrupts the internal war fared between two hidden motivations; defeat is all that reigns in the realm of tonight—you, unable to decipher his code, and him, unable to send you such codes.

The mention of your momentarily forgotten injury brings a crease between your brows, “my ankles are fine.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is for me, your highness,” he refutes with a pressed, unamused smile.

“But it really is fine—” you stop mid-sentence when you notice Hoseok taking a deep breath, chest struggling to rise while constricting the impatience and whatever else remains buried from within.

Please let me in, his eyes scream.

Your feet stumbles as they shuffle backwards, and in response, he takes one swift, large stride forward. The door shuts behind him, and suddenly, the room seems significantly more lackluster than before.

“What if someone sees us?” your fear translates into words.

“Should’ve worried about that earlier, don’t you think?” he flatly remarks, cocking his head to the side.

“...but,” you frown and shake your head, “what if they spread rumors about you entering my room?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes before returning the look of impertinence to you, “haven’t they already spread rumors about us? We literally made out at the pool last night. And who cares what they say? I’m tired of giving a shit about them. All it does is burden you.”

“Burden…” your mind subconsciously slips the words into formation when your eyes naturally trail from his gray sweatpants and up to his white tee where beads of water drip from his drenched bangs. “...hey, Hoseok, why haven't you dried your hair yet?”

He couldn't have possibly went out to practice again, could he?

“My hair…?” his brows cinch as his hands find their way to twirl the wet locks in between his fingers and his eyes light up before settling into a frown once again. “Ah… but first, why are you so concerned for me tonight?”

“Maybe because I was kind enough to let you in my room and that's the least you could do…?”

“But I’m the captain. I’m the one in charge,” he quickly quips. You can see the tip of his tongue running across the inner walls of his mouth from the protrusion of his cheeks and his hardened jaw, as if preparing for a fight. “So, technically, I do have the rights to be here, because you broke the rules. If you don’t want to see me, maybe you should turn off your lights next time.”

His sudden defense rubs you the wrong way when you scoff, “captain? Huh, funny, because I seem to recall a certain someone getting all pissed off at me because I begged them to come here in the first place.”

“What?” he asks in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at you.

“It’s really not that big of a deal. Why are you being so aggravated today? Are you scared to tell me the truth? That you’re playing around and checking in on me to pretend and act like you’ve been up hard at work all day? So you can continue playing around with me without having to hear me nag at you?”

You just want him to be honest with himself, and more so with you, and maybe you aren’t approaching it the right way, but you simply don’t understand how to fix the dent in Hoseok’s enclosed heart.

“What?” he repeats, the fury in his boiling blood exuding from his step forward and your step back. “I’m doing my job here, aren’t I? I’m guiding us through the camp, I’m teaching you guys how to dance, I’m even out here past midnight patrolling as a captain should! So how am I anything but a captain?”

Buzz, sneakers, collision, and buzz—the entire sequence washes onto shore once again from the back of your mind, blaring at you as if to tell you to back down.

He continues to take steps forward, forcing you to retreat backwards into the depths of your room.

“I didn't mean it like that…” you mumble, taking another step back until your heels hit the drawer and the back of your head bumps into the TV behind you.

Hoseok steps one intimidating stride forward, arms gripping at the drawer on either side of you and entrapping you in his field of control. He gives you one long, hard stare, and as uncomfortable as it is, something tells you there would be serious repercussions if you looked away.

“No, but it sure does feel like it and it confuses me,” he retorts lowly, “so tell me, Y/N, why are you so concerned for me all of a sudden?”

His watchful eyes and parted lips pray for the hopes that you had seen him, that he had finally found someone who knew the true him, but you don't want to and you can't possibly reopen his wound. You know it would hurt him all too much.

So you keep silent, just as he has all along

“...you’ll wake them if you yell any louder,” you mumble, looking off to the side in dejection.

But his warm hands cup the cold surface of your chin damp from your shower, turning you until your gaze has returned to meet his.

“Stop making excuses. You know they can't hear us,” he lowly utters. “What did you even think I was doing anyways?”

“I-I don't know. I was just asking what you’ve been doing. It’s not that hard of a question,” you mumble. “You can lie to me, even, if you want.”

“No,” he shakes his head, keeping his fingertips grazing against your chin. “I want to hear your guesses.”

You gulp, diverting from his piercing gaze, “I don't know…”

“You seemed to have a pretty good guess just a minute ago,” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just say it. I dare you to.”

I dare you to say it, but I doubt you can, because I doubt you even know, his leer screams.

“...maybe you had a girl over in your room or something…”

You know that's not the case, or at least you hope, but that's the most believable guess you could muster other than outright accusing him of his late night practices sessions.

“You think that I'd let another girl other than you into my room? Who do you take me for?” he scoffs, even chuckles. “Ah, you're too cute.”

He doesn't mean it, you tell yourself, you can't believe him and you can't fall for this specific trick because you know that's exactly what he wants to distract you from the pain hidden beneath that flirtatious crooked smile of his.

You frown, “quit playing and let me go...”

“Just one more question,” he laughs for a brief second, silence failing for a tense minute before finally asking in the lowest of voices, “can I kiss you?”

“W-What?”

“I mean, last time I was so congested and upset with these dark thoughts of mine that I forgot to even ask you for permission before I forced myself on you. Two elements of a great kiss are consent and surprise, remember? I think I got the surprise part down judging by the look on your face,” he smirks, but all you can do is stare at him in silence.

It's not like you're opposed to the idea of kissing him, per se, but you're against sharing such an intimate moment when you know he would just be using you like alcohol as a way to temporarily numb the pain.

But should you go ahead and let him? If something as trifling as this could even relieve him of the pain, should you give him what he wants?

“Are you… lonely? Are you upset over something? Can't I help you?”

Several seconds of silence passes by until you hear him chortle with a sigh, his arms dripping from your sides and releasing you from his grasp as he brushes by your shoulder and heads toward your bed. “I was just joking around with you. Don't look at me like that, it hurts me too, you know? I didn’t come here to argue anyways, ” he remarks, lightening up the mood. “I just forgot to dry my hair, that’s all. Do you have any snacks in your fridge?”

Nonchalantly, Hoseok plops onto your mattress without further permission, but all you could notice is the slight limping in his walk; if anyone else had watched his strides, including you from the past, no one would have suspected a thing, but now that you’ve discovered his secret, the uneven footsteps of his are all too glaring.

With his head against his hand propped by an elbow against one of your two pillows, Hoseok grins at you with an arched brow and a hand tapping on the sweatpants concealing the swelling of his leg.

“...no,” you finally answer, walking a few steps forward into the room to lean against the corner wall next to the lower side of your bed. You cross your arms and continue, “why would I bring food for a three night trip?”

“Ah, I forgot this is only for three nights. I see,” he nods, pursing his lips and turning to lie on his back with his head nestled into your pillow. The fingers of one of his hands drum against his stomach as the other props above his shoulders and under his neck.

The buzzing of your empty fridge stimulates you to memories you don’t want to revisit, but the overwhelming silence seems to be the motif of tonight and you just don’t know how to fix it; yet the longer he stares emptily into the ceiling above, the more curious you become.

“Hoseok?”

“Hm?” he hums without budging his eyes from the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about?”

A few seconds pass by before he takes a deep breath and sighs loudly, his chest noticeably rising and sinking underneath his water-drenched tee.

“Truthfully, I actually came here after you left because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone tonight. I was wrong to shut you out,” he confesses; but when you’re left staring at him in utter, shock, Hoseok finally breaks his gaze from the ceiling to meet your gaping expression with a chuckle. “It’s a joke, Y/N. I’m a lonely person, just like you said, remember?”

“Being lonely isn’t a joke…” you grumble, uncrossing your arms and walking over to gently seat yourself beside him in bed.

You’re expecting some teasing remark for supposedly joining him in bed, but what you don’t expect is what slips from his lips instead.

“Have you ever wanted something so bad that it’s all you come to know, but the second you get it, it turns out to be the only thing you can’t have? It just… it doesn’t love you back. I’m the only one trying at this point.”

“Like what…?” you hesitantly ask.

“Like you,” he swiftly answers, turning his head to shoot you a lopsided grin.

Everything comes crashing down into a full circle once it finally clicked for you: dance; dance is the unrequited love for Hoseok, and you were just one of the many replacements to allow him to forget what he had lost.

The thought irks you the wrong way, and as much as you want to console him, the teasing relationship you two have established does not exactly authorize for such a moment.

“But you never got me in the first place,” you snort.

Hoseok blinks blankly at your words before scoffing in disbelief, turning his head and smirking with the shake of his head, “go dry your hair before you get sick, you cold-hearted woman.”

“No, I can’t leave you unattended in my bed!”

“I won’t stay here overnight, alright,” Hoseok rolls his eyes while cracking a smile. “So stop worrying and go or you’ll get a cold.”

“Psh, fine,” you huff, getting up from your bed; but before you could depart to the bathroom, Hoseok’s hands grip onto your hands only to pull you back into bed beside him. You sigh, turning your back to glare at the blank look on his face, “do you want me to stay or not?”

“Y/N,” he ignores you and proceeds with his question, looking you straight in the eye, “what would you do if I said I still wanted to quit dance? If I said this entire trip only reminded me of why I hated it so much in the first place? What would you do?”

Your eyes grow wide; he’s practically asking you upfront about his inner true conundrums, and this time, you’re going to make things right again.

“I would support you no matter what. If dancing isn’t what you want, then I’m fine with it,” you answer. “I kissed you so you would come to camp. That’s all I bargained for, and that’s all I’m asking for.”

Hoseok stares at you for several seconds in silence before scoffing and tossing your hand to the side, “I came here for an answer, but now you’re just confusing me.”

“What?”

“Go dry your hair already. Your hands are cold,” he states, turning his head away from you. “I won’t be able to kiss you anymore if you get sick.”

Glaring at him from his back, you oblige to his demands and retreat to the safety of your washroom. While drying your hair, you spend all your time scrambling for something to say, to fill in the conversation, to keep you from the pounding white noise of sneakers and buzz, but most importantly, to keep him from the ill reminder of his downfall.

Yet, all is in vain, when you return to your room to find him asleep.

Sighing, you tiptoe your way to lie down in the bed right beside him. With your head cupped in your hands propped on the mattress by your elbow, you lean just a bit forward to catch a glimpse of his dozing expression. Only in his slumber is he relinquished of all worries. The crease between his brows has vanished, and the frown he had constantly worn in the corner of his lips had dissipated along with it. Finally, he is at peace and solace.

“You see, Hoseok, the thing about life is that it constantly challenges us to new obstacles… kind of like what you’re doing to me right now,” you chuckle to yourself and brush the fallen streaks of hair off his forehead and to his temples, “but you’re strong enough to overcome it, and as long as you have someone beside you the entire time, everything will turn out just right. You are loved, you just don’t know it.”

And with that, you lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead.

It’s the first time he ever failed to smirk after a kiss shared between the two of you.

With the official set of the sun ironically at the rise of dawn, an epiphany strikes you at 2 AM in the depths of your room where Hoseok lies asleep beside you.

Some secrets are meant to be kept hidden, some wounds are never meant to be revived; and so, instead of hurting and turning him away, you’ve agreed to be his sanctuary for just tonight.

Jimin [2:23 A.M.] Hoseok? No... he’s not supposed to be on patrol. I am.

315 notes · View notes

rune-writes · 3 years

Text

A Flower Just For You

Fandom: Persona 5

Word Count: 2988

Rating: G

Summary: Ann has been receiving flowers in her shoe locker for the past few weeks and she couldn't help but hope that they're from Ren.

Note: This is a piece I wrote for @thezinearcana, focusing on love confessions and flower languages.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Ann froze at the sight of a single white flower in her shoe locker that afternoon. This was the third time she had received it, and like its predecessors, it had neither name nor note attached to it.

A pair of familiar voices rose above the hum of conversation at the school's entrance hall. They sounded close—too close—and before she could think, Ann slammed her locker shut so hard the people around her jumped in surprise. She hoped they hadn’t noticed. But as her heart thundered in her chest, Ann noticed they’d gone quiet.

The silence was deafening.

“What’s wrong, Ann?” Ryuji asked.

“Nothing—” Ann half-turned, one hand still on her locker. But her voice sounded unnaturally high, and she barely stopped herself from grimacing.

Ryuji broke into a grin. “You’re hiding something,” he said, stalking towards her with hands in his pockets, his grin grew wide at her obvious discomfort. “A love letter?”

A joke. It was a joke. But the thought hit too close that Ann was caught between a stutter and a scoff. She willed her face not to go red even as her pulse picked up its speed. “Are you stupid?”

“Then what’s—”

“Ryuji,” Ren called from the other end of the locker, where he was changing his indoor shoes for his outdoor ones. “Ogikubo.”

A single word. That was all it took to make Ryuji huff and shuffle toward his own locker. “Aren’t you curious?” she heard him say. Ren only shrugged.

Her heart still drummed in her ears when Ren closed his locker and turned around. Ann didn’t realize she was staring until their eyes met. He offered her a smile that pulled at her heartstrings and Ann hoped her face didn’t betray her emotions.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a wave of his hand before nudging Ryuji on the shoulder and nodded toward the doorway. Ryuji looked back only to give her a small nod of farewell, then joined his friend who had gone out ahead of him.

***

“Maybe it really is from Ren,” Shiho said on the phone later that night. Her friend was the only one who knew about the flowers.

Ann scoffed, turning to her side on her bed. “Haven’t we ruled him out of the potential suspects?”

“Don’t call them suspects,” Shiho said, laughing.

Ann shrugged. “They could be a mistake. Or even a prank.” She could imagine it—Ryuji coming up with such an elaborate joke. Though maybe he wouldn’t have thought of using flowers?

“Then why do you keep bringing them home?”

On instinct, Ann looked up at her desk, where three white flowers stood in a glass vase a little to the corner by the window, where they would get a lot of sunlight in the day. The corners of her lips quirked up. Dark green leaves beneath layers of voluminous white petals. Like a rose, but not exactly a rose. Beautiful.

Why did she bring them home? Because she felt sorry? With no name and no note, Ann couldn’t know for sure they were for her. She couldn’t return them nor could she give them to their true recipients.

“Anyway,” she went on, “It couldn’t be Ren. He wasn’t even interested in it.”

Shiho’s voice seemed to be caught between a sigh and a laugh. “If he’s not the least bit interested, that can mean two things: either he’s not interested in you, or he’s the one who sent it to you.”

“Or he’s just being respectful.”

Shiho sighed. “Ann—” she began, but whatever she was going to say was cut short, because Ann could hear a distant voice calling for her friend and Shiho answered it with a, “Be right there, Mom!” She had to leave. “Don’t think too much about it, Ann,” she said.

The call ended. Ann stared at the blank screen for several silent moments before letting the phone fall onto her bed. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Maybe Shiho was right. It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind but admitting it could mean her loss. They had only known each other for several months, but they were friends and they were comrades. She knew for sure Ren had never seen her like that.

As though summoned by her thoughts, her phone beeped. She looked to see a text notification from Ren and paused, staring at the name for a few more moments before the realization finally hit her and she sat up straight, her heartbeat skyrocketing.

‘You owe me one.’

Ann stared at the message, then carefully typed, ‘What do you mean?’

His reply came not even a minute later. ‘The love letter.’

Her heart constricted. It was one thing when Ryuji said it, but when those words came from Ren—

‘It’s not a love letter!’

‘Then what is it?’

It’s…

Ann paused, then deleted the word. What could she say? That they were flowers? That was the same as admitting the love letter.

‘What,’ she paused, then braced herself as she added, ‘Are you jealous?’

‘Pfft! Jealous? Me?’

The reply didn’t come as quick as before, but still, her heart stung. See, she wanted to tell Shiho. It couldn’t be from Ren. Ann wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking otherwise.

However, just as Ann was typing her reply, another message came. ‘Do you want me to be?’

Ann’s fingers jerked to a stop. She waited a moment, then another, but Ren didn’t say anything else, and neither did she.

Ann didn’t know what to say. Her brain had stopped working at all the implications his question could have and it made her heart race. She could just picture it—him lying on his bed in the cluttered attic that was his room, holding his phone up above his head, waiting for her reply.

She almost told herself to throw the phone and forget the conversation ever existed. She almost convinced herself that he was joking, that she was thinking too much and she should hurry and say something before he thought she was taking things too seriously and he’d feel bad and she’d be embarrassed and—

Her phone beeped again. Ann looked at the screen. A new message had appeared. ‘Sorry, that was a joke.’

That was a joke. She should have known. But her jaws were tense, and her fingers clutched her phone so tight her knuckles went white. Ann drew a breath and loosened her muscles, gulping air past the lump in her throat.

It was a joke.

But why did her heart clench so painfully?

***

The idea came to her in the middle of the night. If she didn’t know who it’s from, Ann could just catch the culprit in the act. She set out to stake out her locker the next day. She’d hide behind the wall around the corner, with bread on one hand and her phone on the other, scrolling through it while occasionally glancing up to spot if anyone had gotten near her shoe locker at all.

No one appeared during lunch break. She decided she could extend her mission to the hours after school, but even then, no one went anywhere near her locker or lingered long enough to have slipped something inside. They couldn’t have put the flower inside in the early mornings, could they? Ann would have found the flowers when she came to school. But all this while, she had only found them after school was over.

“You’re here early,” Ren said one morning before class started. Outside, clouds that had gathered since early morning had broken and rain was drizzling. With her head on her table, the hum of conversation in the background, complete with a chill in the air and the fact that she had woken up an hour earlier, had lulled her into sleep, woken up only by the sound of Ren’s voice and the scrap of chair against tile.

Ann gave a noncommittal grunt as she sat up straight and stifled a yawn.

“Didn’t get enough sleep?”

She didn’t. She couldn’t get her mind off the flowers that she only fell asleep after midnight. Shiho had said Ann was being too obsessed. “Doesn’t it make your heart flutter, though?” her friend had asked last night.

It did. Her heart fluttered every time she saw them, thinking that someone out there thought of her enough to give her flowers. No one had done that before. Yet that’s exactly why she hated it.

“What happened with the love letter?” Ren suddenly asked.

Her eyes ablaze, Ann whipped her head around and hissed, “It’s not a love letter!”

“Sorry.” Ren raised his hands and backed away, as far as the back of his seat allowed him. “Just that you’ve been hanging around your locker a lot recently—” He paused, his gray eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me—did you stake out your locker this morning?”

Ann pursed her lips and looked away. She heard a quiet snort and glared up at him. “Sorry,” Ren muttered, averting his gaze, finding purchase at something on his lap.

Ann stared at him for a couple moments before leaning her back against the window.

“It’s not a love letter,” she began, her voice soft. Gaze locked on the cuticles of her nails, she fisted her hands and braced herself. “It’s a flower. That time you saw me was the third.”

She waited for the snort, or the laughter, or any sort of teasing remark or jibe. But none of them came. Only silence. And silence was worse, because it spoke more volume than if he had pestered her like Ryuji.

Ann sneaked a glance from the corner of her eyes and found a perfectly schooled poker face. She scowled. “Forget it—”

“But isn’t that good?” Ren asked just as she turned around to face forward again. Ann’s fingers twitched. That confirmed it, then: Ren wasn’t interested in her at all. The flowers were definitely not from him.

She grabbed her books from her bag. Class would start soon.

“I guess it’s not.” She felt his eyes on the back of her head, but Ann didn’t feel like meeting them.

“You’re not happy with them?” There was a quietness to his voice that made her pause, that made her think twice again and again that maybe she was wrong and Shiho was right, no matter how many times Ann was proven right.

Ann sighed. No more.

“I am,” she quietly said.

“Then…?”

Ann let the question hang. The bell rang not a moment later and everyone took their seats. All throughout class, Ann would feel his eyes on her, a lingering glance when her name was called, or a look when she stood up to get something for lunch. He never said anything. She never gave him the chance to.

***

After school, the dark clouds plaguing the day finally parted. Ann didn’t feel like scouting her locker anymore, so she headed home, without much thought of it. Maybe Shiho was right. She should just be happy for receiving the flowers. But if they weren’t from Ren, Ann saw no point in getting happy over it anymore.

Light glistened on the trees and the puddles on the pavement. On her way to the subway, she noticed a little store just off to the side, with potted flowers and plants at the front. Ann stopped in front of it. The lingering scent of rain made the flowers smell stronger and sweeter, and before she knew it, her feet had already led her past the boxes and through the door at the center.

A bell jingled overhead. A woman in a blue shirt looked up from the cash register counter with a smile. “Can I help you?” the florist asked.

Ann looked around. More flowers lined the walls in pots or vases or stacked on shelves—roses, lilies, and hydrangeas to name a few. The florist came over to her just as Ann’s eyes fell on a vase of white flowers—the same ones she now kept in her room.

“What are those?” she asked.

The florist followed her line of sight and a bright smile spread across her face. “Gardenias,” she said. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She plucked a few and held them out to Ann. “They’re lovely and elegant, perfect to give someone you love.”

Someone you love.

Ann smelled the flowers. A sweet fragrance filled her nose. Yes, these were the same ones. Gardenias.

“Did you know?” the florist went on. “These flowers also mean secret love.” That took her off guard. The florist met her surprised look with a knowing smile. “Long ago, when people used flowers to convey messages, they would often give gardenias whenever they wanted to express their love but still remain anonymous. Romantic, isn’t it?”

It was. And it was too similar with her own situation that it rendered Ann speechless.

“It’s been gaining popularity, too,” the florist added. No wonder, if she had told that story to every customer who came here.

Then again, maybe Ann shouldn’t have been surprised. Whoever had given her those flowers had probably fallen into the florist’s marketing ploy. She felt sorry for the guy. Not only did she have to turn him down, he would have spent his money in vain.

The store bell jingled again, and the florist looked up. “Ah! Amamiya-kun!”

Ann froze as the florist left her side. “Another gardenia?” she asked her new customer. “Or are you finally getting her a bouquet?”

The laughter that followed was indeed Ren’s. Ann couldn’t bring herself to turn around. All sorts of thoughts occupied her mind, trying to figure out what brought Ren to a small florist like this. But then he said, “Another gardenia, please,” and Ann stopped thinking.

The florist chuckled. “Send her some bouquet some time. She’d love it.” A shuffle of feet—the florist headed towards her, where the gardenias were.

A soft laugh. “Yeah, well…” Ren’s voice trailed off. Ann felt the moment his eyes found her. She could almost hear his intake of breath, caught on a secret she shouldn’t know. The silence seemed to stretch for a lifetime, and when he finally spoke her name, his voice quiet and hesitant, it was as though a spell was lifted.

She really shouldn’t have come here.

Placing the flowers on the nearest surface she could find, Ann kept her head down as she quickly made her way out, thanking the confused florist on her way. She ducked past Ren without looking up, then, once she was outside, sprinted as fast as she could to wherever her feet carried her.

Her face burned. Her heart raced. Blood pumped in her veins as she pushed herself farther and farther away from the flower shop at the side of the road.

“Ann!” came the dreaded voice, strained and out of breath. Ren pulled her to a stop, hand gripping her arm. “Ann, wait, let me explain—”

A glimpse of a scene, in middle school. A boy told her he liked her due to a dare between friends.

“Was it a joke?”

“What?”

She didn’t care what the flowers meant anymore. She only wished they were genuine, and not an effort to mess with her feelings. Because she liked him. She liked Ren.

“Was it a joke to you?”

Ann waited for an answer, but it never came. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was a joke. Who was she kidding? There was no way Ren would—

“Did you think it was a joke?”

She had expected him to scoff, and to smirk, to let go of her arm and said sorry, my friends made me to. But his voice was devoid of any emotions, and it struck her harder than any jeer he could have thrown at her.

His grip around her arm tightened for a fraction of a second, before he let her go, and sighed. Ann finally looked up, and the look on Ren’s face was enough to break her heart.

“I didn’t want you to know,” he began to say. “I didn’t think you needed to. You looked so happy when you first got it, I thought it was okay if I stayed anonymous.” He paused, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head as he looked away, eyes finding purchase on a tree or a passing cloud.

Ann let his words sink in, feeling the knots slowly unravel in her mind. The tinge of red on his ears and his refusal to meet her eyes spoke loudly enough. Ren was being true.

Ann swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Then, if it’s not a joke, what is it?”

A self-deprecating laugh, a small awkward smile. “Do you really have to ask?”

She didn’t, apparently. Even without the words, Ren’s feelings were loud and clear. From the way he’d smile at her in such a soft and gentle way, to the way he’d look at her as though she was the only girl in the world. He had listened to her and given her his full attention. It would be a lie if Ann hadn’t felt some sort of deeper connection in her time knowing him.

And yet, it was for that precise reason that it had hurt her all the more when she thought he might have been playing with her feelings.

“I’m sorry if they were a burden,” he quietly said. “I didn’t mean to.”

And Ann believed him. Because if there was one thing she knew about Ren was that Ren would never do anything to upset his friends.

“Don’t you know why they made me happy?” she asked. He finally looked at her, and her face broke into a small smile. “The only reason I was happy, Ren, was because I hoped they were from you.” The dumbfounded look on his face was the most endearing thing she had ever seen. “I wanted it to be you.”

~ END ~

#ann takamaki #ren amamiya #shuann #renann #akirann #persona #persona 5 #fanfiction #persona fanfic #p5 fanfic #loves encounter #persona fanzine #zine piece

41 notes · View notes

sleepylixie · 3 years

Text

Of Walls and Wonderlands

College! Kim Seungmin X fem! reader, Imperium Universe

1.8k words, Fluff, College! AU, Friends to (future)lovers

A/N: Soft Uni Seungmin was so difficult to write though?? I really hope I caught his aura right >.< ONTO THE FIC!! Do send me feedback, I’d love to hear what you think of this ficc >.<

Imperium Universe || Jisung ||Seungmin || Chan || Lee Know ||

If anybody had told you a year ago that you’d be dating a guitar-playing, puppy-eyed law student with a sharp tongue, you’d have laughed in their face and brushed them off. You weren’t the type to date- you weren’t the type for romance at all.

Growing up as the youngest sibling in a family full of talent and outspoken opinions, you’d built a wall around yourself very early on to protect your own smaller, more personal sentiments. It was possible that very wall that left you a closed-off, almost intimidating air that made people think twice about approaching you. You didn’t mind it, really. It was peaceful, within those walls, an isolated wonderland that nobody could ruin for you.

That is until a certain Kim Seungmin came along. It was almost easy, falling for him; Seungmin was the kind of boy that anybody could end up falling for. You didn’t expect your feelings for him to be returned, of course. You knew how you were- cold, prickly, almost unpleasant, a complete opposite to his warm, open self.

Surprisingly enough, that wasn’t the case.

You first saw Seungmin at Imperium, the bar closest to your campus. Imperium, however, served a completely different purpose to those who knew of it: It was an entrance to the heart of the underground fight club network in your city. And you just so happened to be one of its’ sweethearts.

Minor fact about you:

You were a kickboxer. A good one at that.

You had a knack for it, the way your siblings had a knack for writing or dancing. When one of your gym trainers introduced you to the underground fight scene the summer after high school, you didn’t hesitate for a second before agreeing to join. Now halfway through university, you and your best friend were two of the best fighters the Imperium fight club had.

Changbin, your gym trainer, had told you to scope out competition for the new season, which was why you were at the club despite not having fights that day. The two of you had hung around a corner of the basement, talking to acquaintances, until Changbin asked you if you wanted to meet some of his friends.

Your hesitant agreement had him leading you to a rowdy group of 4 guys, who seemed more than happy to meet one of the club’s fighters. They introduced themselves one by one- you even recognized Hyunjin, the cheeky blonde bookie that loved to take your best friend’s bets before her fights.

Seungmin was true to his words, he really was a simple guy. You spoke throughout the evening, a rarity for you. He was a law major, the same year as you, a bathroom singer and an ardent DAY6 fan. He was unconstrained with his smiles and open with his opinions, razor-sharp with his wit and dry with his humour. It was so easy to talk to him, even for you- the kind of person who wasn’t much for small talk.

The last boy that spoke caught your eye. He was a little taller than the other guys, eyes a sparkling brown even in the harsh lighting of the basement. “Hi, I’m Seungmin,” His voice was soft, melodic, almost. You nodded slightly at the boys, a small smile slipping across your face as you introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know you,” exclaimed Minho, one of the other guys. “Aren’t you the one that won the rookie championship last year?” The rest of the boys regarded you with renewed curiosity, looks that you were used to. A girl in the circuit was still rare, much less a championship winner.

“Yeah.”

You spent the rest of the evening with the boys, mostly because you were intrigued by the boy called Seungmin. He kept up an easy conversation with you, calming despite the clamor and rage ripping across the basement after the fight slots began.

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”

He smiled at your comment, a show of pearly teeth and cosy warmth. “It isn’t. I got dragged here because Hyunjin thought I was spending too long with my textbooks.”

“So what is your kinda scene?” You were surprised at yourself, you never took the effort of keeping up a conversation like this- but Seungmin made you curious, you had to find out more.

“I’m a simple guy, really,” He laughed- he was cute, you thought. Really, really cute.

“You get me ice cream good music and good company, I’m yours.”

When the night winded down, he shyly asked to exchange numbers with you after insisting on walking you home. How could you not agree, especially with the way he looked at you, curious and admiring?

Your friendship with Seungmin progressed quickly- You met up a lot, explored cafes and had impromptu midnight grocery runs together. He was fun, almost puppy-like in his enthusiasm, his vibe so alluring that you ended up buying into it too. There was a lot of banter between both of you, effortlessly silly and extremely witty. Seungmin was the type to hound you with random tidbits of trivia, things you wondered why he even knew of. But it was so... So characteristic of him that you just found it endearing. Even his sharp, acerbic wit. Especially his sharp, acerbic wit.

Seungmin left you with warm cheeks and a wide smile, he felt like the kind of person you didn’t have to keep your walls up around. It felt nice, suddenly, to have somebody who could live in your wonderland with you and not judge you one bit.

The months passed faster with Seungmin, like a whirlwind of strawberry smoothies and fried chicken. There was an almost magnetic aura around him- maybe it was his charming boy-next-door smile or the way he carried himself, looking almost small, diminutive in stature despite his frame bordering on lanky. Over the months, you’d realized that maybe you enjoyed your time with Seungmin way more than you thought you would, maybe you had a little bit of a crush on him, maybe you’d wanted to peck his pretty lips more than one time before…

When he asked you to join him on a movie night with his roommates, you couldn’t refuse. Turned out, Jisung and his girlfriend enjoyed your company so much that you became a constant addition to their movie nights. So you found yourself frequenting Seungmin’s quaint, well-organized apartment every Saturday with assorted junk food, and the quiet excitement of meeting Seungmin again.

He turned up at one of your kickboxing sessions one day, watching in pure awe as Changbin took you through the motions of training for the new season. After asking if you were okay with him dropping by, he made it a point to turn up as often as possible, his guitar slung across his back. “You’re so good at this,” he’d say every time Changbin allowed you a break. Your heart would flutter a little every time, leaving you slightly flustered and warm in the face.

After you were done, he’d walk you home, sometimes pulling you into the park on the way and playing songs for you on the guitar.

“Holy fucking shit.” Seungmin’s reaction to your slightly battered frame was instantaneous, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and ushering you into his apartment. “It’s not that bad, I just need a few bandaids.” You protested, hissing softly at the sting that your split lip brought when you spoke. Seungmin scanned your frame quickly, marking the spots on your body that you seemed to carry heavy or marked with specks of blood.

A heavy silence weighed down on the room, a silence which demanded you break. “Sorry I had to disturb,” your voice came out smaller than you expected. “I got jumped a few blocks away from here, and this was the first safe place I could think of.”

His roommates took in your state from their perch on the kitchen counter, Jisung’s eyes wide in alarm. His girlfriend(and Seungmin’s third roommate) hopped off the counter, hurrying towards you and Seungmin.

“Min, you know where the first aid kit is, right?” She asked, taking your hand as she gently pulled you towards her room. “Get it to the kitchen, I’ll get Y/N a change of clothes.”

Soon enough, you were sat on Jisung’s previous perch on the kitchen counter, Seungmin giving you a stern once over as he tended to your injuries. Jisung and his girlfriend seemed to have retreated into one of the bedrooms, possibly to give you and Seungmin some space.

“What happened, darling?” He asked softly, knelt in front you as he dabbed antiseptic onto your knee. “One of the guys I beat last week wanted revenge,” you sighed, swallowing a hiss at the sting. “so he decided to jump me with some buddies.” You tried really hard to ignore the new nickname- a nickname you liked very much when he used it.

Seungmin’s head shot up, eyes flashing in incredulity. “Isn’t that against the rules?!” He asked, temporarily abandoning his ministrations. “Yeah, I’ll make a report tomorrow, he’ll probably get booted for this.” you shrugged.

“He probably wasn’t expecting me to be able to talk after? I don’t know.”

You’d never seen that dark look flash across your sweet boyfriend’s eyes before. “That sick bastard.” He never swore, your warm Seungmin.

“It’s okay, Min,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

“I know it’s okay,” Seungmin said, standing up to focus on the injuries on your face and collar. “You enjoy kickboxing way too much to be fazed by something like this, I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just...”

He sighed, leaning closer to you as he checked on your split lip. “It scares me a little every time you end up hurt.”You could see the sprinkle of a blush heating up his cheekbones as he spoke the words, still focused on your lip. You couldn’t help it, a smile spread across your face, broad and unrestrained. Seungmin stopped and stepped back, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re so beautiful…” the words left his mouth before he could stop them, and a rush of heat gave you a blush that mirrored Seungmin’s own.

“I- um-”

“That’s probably the first time I’ve ever seen you flustered,” he observed, a lopsided smile on his face. You returned his grin as much as you could without jostling your lip too much. Something had switched in the energy between you at his compliment, there was warm electricity where there was usually cool and easy banter.

It was new, unfamiliar, but strangely enough, you didn’t hate it.

“You should stay here for the night,” Seungmin offered, still in the soft voice he’d used before. “I’d end up worrying about you all night if you went home like this.”

“Okay.”

And that was how Jisung found the two of you next morning cuddled on the couch, Seungmin holding you with your head nuzzled into his neck, lost to the world. Even in sleep, Seungmin was careful of your newly acquired injuries, hands light around your waist and softly tangled in your hair.

It was warm in your wonderland, and it was all because of Seungmin.

152 notes · View notes

hunflowers · 4 years

Text

Skating Lessons

Word Count: 15k

Requested? Nope, but you always can here :)

Mood board

A/N: She is here! She was a doozy to write but I love her so much and I hope you do too <3 Enjoy babydaddy!Harry, and if you do (or if you don’t) throw some feedback my way, really helps a girl out y’know. *nose boops*

“Y/N!”

It was the voice she hated hearing. The voice she despised. The voice that brought her stress more than anything else in her life.

The voice of her landlord. Old Man Chris as she likes to call him. He was the typical stingy, grumpy old man that owned a small little apartment and hardly gave the young girl room to breathe when it came to rent money.

She always gave her money, albeit sometimes a day or two late, but that didn’t change the fact that she still gave him his expected money. This time was a little different however, seeing how she was already a week late, and at this rate going on to be two weeks late.

But, she was so close to giving him the money, plus a little extra to hold her over for next month. All Y/N needed was a few more days. Money had been very tight this past month for reasons she’d rather not discuss with Chris, and she knows she’s in the wrong, but she will get him that money.

Flipping onto her stomach in bed, Y/N holds her pillow over her head to try and drown out the incessant pounding on her front door. It was most likely just past seven in the morning, and Y/N had a very long day yesterday, so all she wanted to do was sleep away her worries for just a little while longer. Clearly, Old Man Chris had different intentions.

Y/N let out a very guttural groan as she threw off her blanket, slid her feet into her fluffy slippers, and wrapped her robe around her body before stomping to the door with a faux smile plastered across her face.

“Morning Chris,” she chirped, looking eye to eye with the man who looked like he was ready to stab her. Although he seemed like a miserable old man, he wasn’t always so bad. When the two met, Y/N was in a much darker place than she is now. Chris has children of his own so when he saw how desperate she was for help, his heart yearned for her.

It was a love-hate relationship the two shared.

“Is there something I can do for you, so early in the morning?”

He gave Y/N that knowing look that she had seen every month that she’s lived here. The look that said you know why I’m here, now hand it over. And in return, every time, she gave him that sheepish smile.

“Y/N, I can’t let this go on any further.”

“Chris, please, you don’t understand. I promise just a few more days,” she begged, clasping her hands together and bringing them up to her chin. He sighed, shaking his head and placing his hands on his hips as he looked down to the floor. She had a soft spot in his heart, so it was always so difficult for him to put his foot down, but he couldn’t let this go on any further.

He looked back up at her, noticing the way she pouted her bottom lip just like how his daughter does when she wants something. It’s hard for him to say no. “You have until Sunday, Y/N. I mean it. I can’t accept this anymore. Don’t pay your rent on the fifteenth, and I’m kicking you out.”

Y/N nodded her head graciously, not knowing whether or not to hug her landlord. He wasn’t too keen on human contact so she just gave him her brightest smile as he walked back down the stairs that led to her apartment.

It was Thursday, meaning she had two days plus the rest of today to gather up as much money as possible. One of her jobs pays tomorrow, and despite other bills she has to take out of that money, she should still have enough to get her that rent money.

Closing the door behind her, Y/N looked around at her apartment, taking in a deep breath and deciding to make herself some coffee since there was no chance she was going to be able to fall back asleep. Not that she had the choice to anyway, because she had to get downstairs as soon as possible if she wanted to keep her apartment.

By the time she managed to get the tiredness out of her system, it was a little past eight-thirty. Y/N locked her door behind her, hurriedly running downstairs and to her day job.

From nine to six, Y/N ran her ice skating lessons down at the local ice rink. And although there weren’t a lot of people that came to her for lessons, by the time six o’clock rolls around, Y/N is beyond exhausted.

But then seven comes, and she’s running to her night job as a waitress to one of the more popular restaurants in town. And by more popular, it’s a nonstop rotating door of people walking inside until it closes at midnight. But, even though it closes at midnight, that doesn’t stop the people already inside from taking their sweet time in leaving. Last night, the last group of people left at one-thirty, and they didn’t even leave a good tip. She survives off minimum wage there, and even though she’s been working there for nearly a year, a raise was out of the question. The owners hardly ever pay more than what they’re supposed to. But they’re the only ones who’ve given her a job and at this point, she had no choice but to stay.

Ann and her daughter Olivia were the first to stroll in once it was nine in the morning. They always book the first slots every Tuesday and Thursday because they both claimed to be early birds. And it was good for them, because being the first ones means they get Y/N when she’s not completely wiped out.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Olivia said happily, running up to her skate teacher and giving her a big hug. Olivia had just turned six last Thursday, and she was the most exuberant six year old Y/N had ever met. She gets it from Ann, because like Olivia, Ann always seemed to have a smile on her face.

Returning the hug, Y/N squeezed the little girl, standing up and twirling her around before placing her back down onto her tiny feet. “Good morning, Livie! Let’s get started shall we?”

❊ ❊

It was almost five, and no one had booked a lesson within the last hour. Usually after school gets a bit busier, but of course, when Y/N really needs it to get busy, it doesn’t, leaving her to sulk around for an hour as she thinks of what she has to cut from her budget for the upcoming months.

As the sun sets, Y/N decides to cut time early, to give herself that extra ten minutes to herself in bed before she heads off to her second job. When she sits on a bench to unlace her skates, she hears the door to the rink open. Turning around to see whoever walked in, for a split second, the breath is taken out of Y/N’s lungs as she sees the most handsome man standing before her and the small girl clinging to his leg.

But, just for a split second.

Gaining her composure, Y/N puts on her best smile as they made eye contact, yanking the skate off her foot. “Are you Y/N?”

A little taken aback by the question, since she didn’t expect this fine man to be there for her, she could only nod her head in response. “Great! I was uh – wondering if I could sign my daughter up for lessons?”

Y/N looked at the little girl, noticing the shyness as she stood mostly behind her father. She had cute, big brown eyes that matched her dark brown hair. She had a bit of pudge to her rosy cheeks and it took everything in Y/N to not reach down and give them a pinch.

Y/N was a sucker for children. Well, other people’s children. She wasn’t so sure she wanted any herself. Too many things were bound to go wrong if she had a child of her own and she’d rather not give that human being a fucked up life like her own if she had any say in the matter.

“Uh, yeah, of course! I always love teaching someone new. Especially if they’re as cute as her,” she gushed, making the little girl’s cheeks redden even more, and a small smile wormed its way onto her lips. Y/N took notice of the girl’s missing front tooth.

“Well,” the man looked down to his daughter, a smile of his own on his face as he reached down and picked her up into his arms, “that’s great news! Isn’t it, Abby?”

Abby nodded her head quickly but then soon stuck her head into the crevice between her father’s neck and shoulder, looking away from the woman. Soon, with enough of Y/N’s charm, Abby won’t be too shy to even look at her. That’ll be one of Y/N’s missions, as well as teaching her how to ice skate.

“I’m Harry,” the man stated when he realized he hadn’t introduced himself properly yet. He stuck out his hand, waiting for Y/N to grasp it in a friendly shake.

“Y/N. Do you want to sign her up for private lessons? Or group ones? Or both?”

Then they worked out the logistics of when Abby was going to come in for her lessons, the answer being at noon every Monday, Wednesday for her private lessons, and Saturday with a group around her same beginner level.

When everything was settled, including the pricing for the private and group lessons, Y/N took notice of the time and that twenty minutes had passed. She cursed herself mentally, because instead of gaining an extra ten minutes of rest, she now lost ten. She lost time as her and Harry made small conversation over Abby’s sudden need to figure skate and how they had to go searching immediately. The entire time Abby stayed quiet though, hardly lifting her head from her father’s shoulder.

When Y/N escorted the pair out of the rink, Abby quickly glanced at her before ducking her head back out of sight. For some reason, Y/N found the little girl very interesting - not to mention adorable - so she couldn’t wait for Saturday to see her again and hopefully work the girl into warming up to her. Also wouldn’t mind seeing her father again. Although, Y/N did have this lingering thought in the back of her mind that he surely was off limits, because he has a daughter who has a mother, and that mother is probably his wife or fiancee or girlfriend, whatever the case may be. But, Y/N did take notice that he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Again, not that that means anything, because he could have a girlfriend, or maybe he forgot to put it on today.

So, Y/N pushed all intimate thoughts to the back of her mind because she deemed it useless, and didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Plus, she had a lot bigger, more pressing issues to think about.

When they finally started to separate, their small talk diminishing, a new voice spoke up for the first time that evening. “Daddy?”

Harry quickly looked to his daughter who squeaked out the soft call, raising his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting her to say anything in front of the stranger. “Yes, baby?”

“We get food now?”

Even her voice had Y/N swooning and wanting to coo at the girl. Abby was just that cute.

Then they officially parted ways, not before Harry spoke the words We’ll see you Saturday that had Y/N’s heart pick up pace for whatever reason. We’ll see you Saturday. We’ll see you.

We’ll.

Y/N can’t remember the last time something so trivial made her happy to see the next day. It was stupid, honestly, because why would something so small from someone so irrelevant in her life, make her this excited?

Only time would tell.

And clearly it made a bigger impact on her than she had intended. Because the moment she stepped into her restaurant for the night, her coworker, Kelly, who she likes to think of as her closest friend, immediately picked up on her brighter mood. Y/N was questioned without hesitation, because ever since Kelly met Y/N, she couldn’t help but feel bad for her because Y/N was always on the quieter side, keeping to herself and finding it difficult to open herself up to anyone who was interested. It was rare finding a genuine smile on her face, and so the fact she walked in actually happy something must’ve happened.

Y/N clearly denied because nothing did happen. All that happened was she met an extremely good looking dad with an adorable daughter and she was probably going to keep seeing them for at least a little while. It was just nice having something to look forward to lately.

“Make a move then!” Kelly continued on with their last conversation that had been interrupted.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the statement, finishing up making the bill for her last table. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“And why not?”

“He has a daughter which means there’s a mother who could be his wife or fiancée or girlfriend,” she stresses, turning to her friend with a bored look.

Kelly scoffed, “Or she’s not in the picture. Won’t know until you try.”

“Or I could save myself the embarrassment.”

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, y’know that?”

Y/N shrugs, her chin turning towards her shoulder in a mocking manner as if to say she’s proud to hold that title. She was being stubborn but for good reason. She didn’t feel this need to want to make a move and in the end she knew nothing good would come out of it because that tended to be her luck, so she was protecting herself and saving herself from any unwarranted feelings and such.

And the idea of Harry made her sad the more she thought about it. Because being in a relationship was something she couldn’t have. It just wasn’t in her future and over the years she’s grown to get used to that. So it was best she admired from afar, because that would be the only way she could stay… happy.

❊ ❊

Saturday rolled around a lot faster than usual. During a normal week it felt like years until the weekend rolled around – not that the weekend even really mattered because it wasn’t like Y/N got to go out and have fun anymore, but the idea of it being the weekend settled her mind because that was another week down the hatch.

It was also time to finally see Harry again. Maybe she was being dramatic because she only saw him two days ago so really it wasn’t that long of a wait, but Friday’s tended to be her most crucial day and it zipped by no problem.

Her normal Saturday crowd rolled around, and so far there had been no sign of Harry strolling in with Abby. Everyone else in her beginner group had arrived and she couldn’t prolong class any longer, so with a clap of her hands and an instruction to begin the basic maneuvers she had taught them, she tried not to focus on his absence. Why sign your daughter up and not show up? If anything that was more rude than anything, but maybe something important came up and all harsh thoughts flew out of Y/N’s head.

Around fifteen minutes after class started, the familiar clanky bang to the entrance of the rink sounded as someone threw open the door, causing Y/N to glance up, seeing an out of breath father and daughter with looks of nervousness etched across their features. Y/N excused herself for a moment to greet them, giving the pair a warm smile despite all of the negativity swarming her brain.

“I’m so sorry we’re late. Something came up and I– it’s not too late right?” Harry asked worriedly as his daughter just looked up to her new teacher with the same amount of shyness as Thursday.

Y/N dismissed his worry with a simple hand gesture to reassure him, beckoning Abby to sit down so she could help her tie her skates to her feet. She was clad in these pink patterned leggings and a white sweater to keep out the cold matching with little white skates that had pink laces. Y/N could sense the excited energy emitting from her little body the moment her second skate was fastened to her foot. Standing up with Abby’s hand in her own, the two looked back to Harry as he looked beyond nervous for his daughter to touch down on the ice.

“Try not to worry, she’s in good hands. You can go and wait with the other moms over there – and by the looks of it, they seem really excited to meet you,” Y/N paused as her and Harry looked over his shoulder to the mom’s who were ogling him without even trying to hide it. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at their overt staring, causing Harry’s cheeks to redden and for him to nervously wave at them. “Or you could always leave and come back at one-thirty.”

Harry nodded to her suggestions, taking a glance again at the woman standing around a table and still watching him. “I think… I’ll stay this time. See how her first day goes. I also don’t know how comfortable I am leaving her on her own for the first time just yet,” he rambled, running his fingers through his hair.

Y/N tried her best to hide her smile at how endearing it was to see him be so nervous for Abby, because it genuinely seemed like she was his life even if she’s only known him for a total of thirty minutes. It’s adorable. He’s adorable.

Leaving him to do as he pleases, Y/N led Abby to the rink, hand in hand, introducing her to the other children and going extra slow with her since she already missed a few lessons in regards to the other kids and what they could do already. And for her first day, Abby was doing a pretty job in getting the hang of feeling the ice and letting it glide her along. The little girl had skating in her blood, and Y/N prayed that she stuck with it because she could very easily have an inclination to the sport.

Every once in a while Y/N would look at Harry, seeing him avoiding the flock of mother’s and their constant whispering and staring at him as he stood against the edge of the rink, sometimes looking at his phone, sometimes looking at his daughter and standing upright every time she had a misstep.

That was maybe the most tumultuous and excruciatingly nerve wracking hour and fifteen minutes for Harry to ever have to sit through, even worse than medical school and interning and residency and everything else he’s gone through to get to the point he is now. Watching his daughter, his precious little girl fall on hard ice and trip over her own two feet countless times while he was helpless because he was off on the sides, was the absolute worst and he doesn’t know how he’s gonna manage this for however long she wants to do it.

When he finally got his hands on her again, he hugged her close and congratulated her on her good work for her first day, kissing her face a whole bunch of times to express how worried he was. After what seemed to be fifty kisses, Abby was shoving him away and giggling at how his stubble was scratching her face.

Y/N couldn’t help but stare at how relieved Harry was for the safe return of his daughter into her arms, all but cooing as he planted many pecks of kisses to her cheeks and nose and forehead. She also couldn’t help but wish he’d give her love and affection like that but she laughed to herself at her wishful thinking. Bidding her goodbyes to her beginner group and welcoming her more advanced, Y/N realized at the last moment that Harry and Abby had stayed behind, hoping to get one final word in before she had to go to her next group of kids. Telling her kids to get some laps in around the rink, Y/N made her way over to Harry and could immediately see how relaxed he was now.

This time, it was actually Abby to say something first. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Abby actually really liked her and couldn’t wait to see her again on Monday for her private lesson. “That was s’much fun! I’m g’na be so good my daddy thinks,” she gushed, hugging her father’s leg as she muffled her giggles against his jeans.

“You’re going to be an amazing figure skater,” Y/N responded, reaching her hand down for a high five from the little girl.

“Thank you for… not letting her get extremely hurt or anything. I’m sure my anxiety will go away soon enough,” Harry chimed in, his heart slightly fluttering at the sight of his daughter actually talking to someone without him encouraging her to do so.

“It would be strange if you weren’t nervous,” she shrugged, standing to her full height in her skates, which reached to just below his eyebrows. Turning around to see a few of the girls in their normal bickering fest, Y/N had to excuse herself to tend to her class, bidding her goodbye for the day to Harry and Abby.

And when Harry wasn’t the one to show up on Monday to drop Abby off but her nanny, Y/N couldn’t help but be disappointed. She can’t say she’s surprised since he’s an adult and probably has his own job to tend to at noon on a Monday, but as she guided Abby around the rink with simple skating motions, she wished he was standing against the rink watching them. Though it did spark a question in her, if the nanny was dropping Abby off, was it because there was no one else to look after her meaning he didn’t have a wife or at least someone who lived with him unless she too also worked which wasn’t an odd thing, but Y/N was an overthinker and maybe if she did grow the balls to ask she’d have an answer for herself and get rid of all of this underlying anxiety.

When their time was done for the day, Abby cheerfully said her goodbye, hand in hand with Natalie her nanny. And for the rest of the day, all Y/N could think about was something Abby said to her on the ice, something that sent chills down her spine that weren’t caused by the cool atmosphere of the arena. “My daddy thinks you’re pretty. I think he likes you, but y’can’t tell him I told you.”

❊ ❊

He didn’t come Wednesday either. And she was convinced he wasn’t showing up Saturday because that was just her luck. But, when he did ten minutes before the group lesson started, Y/N couldn’t suppress the smile and this overwhelming sense of relief. Relief about what? She couldn’t quite put her finger on. She figures it because she has a crush on him, and whenever anyone sees their crush it’s hard not to be happy. But that doesn’t settle well in her brain. She doesn’t like the fact that she’s happy to even see someone’s face, she shouldn’t feel this sense of relief that he’s here again, she shouldn’t be focusing on anything other than her jobs and how she was going to afford going grocery shopping this week.

Yet, she happily waved to Abby and blushed at Harry’s genuine smile towards her, immediately thinking of Abby’s declaration from Monday. She internally scolded herself for acting like a little teenager, urging her skin to make itself feel less heated.

It also didn’t help that she told Kelly about this and she had her nagging words playing in her head to just ask the poor guy if he has a girlfriend or a whoever. Abby ran to the nearest bench to remove her boots and tie her skates, which per usual she needed help from Y/N, which Y/N didn’t mind. Harry bent down near her, his hand a few inches from her knee as he picked up his daughter’s boots, their eyes quickly meeting before just as quickly disbanding, before he stood up and quickly shoved her things into an open locker.

And also as per usual, Harry’s heart couldn’t help but flutter as he watched Y/N act so domestically with his daughter, asking her about her day and tying up her skates. His eyes slowly scanned over the features over her face, taking in each little blemish that made her face hers, subconsciously smiling the moment she smiled at something Abby said. He found himself enticed by the way she held her hair back from her face with a bandana wrapped into the ponytail, and couldn’t stop himself from dragging his eyes over her sweater covered shoulders and the curves of her breasts in her shirt, stopping at where her hips sat tucked beneath her leggings.

“Daddy?” A small voice snapped him out of his daze, his face turning red in an instant at the prospect that he had just been caught staring; and he doesn’t even know for how long.

Licking his lips and darting his eyes to his feet then to his daughters face then to anywhere but her he stuttered, “Uh- yeah, love?”

“We going now,” she spoke, her eyebrows furrowing as to why he seemed so nervous.

All he could do was nod his head and purse his lips, sitting himself down on the bench to collect his thoughts. He repeatedly questioned to himself why he had to be so fucking obvious, all but smacking his forehead in embarrassment.

When she turned to walk with Abby, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk to herself as the image of Harry staring at her so intently was now permanently imprinted into her mind. He was checking her out, no doubt about it, and again that sense of relief flooded her body as she relived it over and over again. It was probably a mistake and it was probably one of those things when he just so happened to look at her when he went into deep thought about something totally not related to her, so she can’t hope it’ll happen again, but boy was it nice while it lasted.

When she was instructing everyone on today’s task and glanced over to him leaning against the outside of the rink, she noticed his eyes on her again, but told herself he was too far away to clearly depict what he was looking at and honestly he was probably only keeping his eyes on his daughter.

Because he wasn’t interested in her. Men like him don’t have interest in women like her; broken and unfixable.

It was a load of bullshit, because Y/N knew she deserved something good after all of the bad she’s faced and still currently facing, but he was just too good and someone like him could never settle for someone like her. He wore expensive clothing and his daughter was wearing one of the nicest brands of skates. He most likely had a very stable and successful career and there was no way he could settle for her, a girl who was always days late on her rent.

The unsettling reality made her jaw clench, her throat tighten up, and caused her gut to twist painfully.

If she hadn’t been put through this scenario before she’d say she would’ve broken out into sobs, but she held herself together for the time being, knowing she was going to let a few tears escape her tonight in bed. And, she’d never forgive herself for crying in front of anyone, especially the man that was the root of it.

Yet, her thoughts didn’t stop him from staring. And when she lapped around the ice, passing in front of him and watching his eyes look anywhere but her, it made her believe that maybe he was actually looking when he thought she wouldn’t notice. And suddenly she was back to rethinking before and how his light eyes fixated on her chest before trailing down the curve of her waist and stopping at her hips. It was a sight that would’ve made her knees buckle if she were standing.

When time was up for the day, Y/N let out a sigh at the thought of waiting another week to see Harry. Even if she didn’t let herself imagine a future with him, she still loved seeing his handsome face for the hour and a half they had together. She sounded so pathetic to herself, but when she saw him talking to one of the other mother’s, admiring the movement of his jawline and the dimple that would appear every once in a while on his cheek, it was safe to say she was utterly infatuated with the sight of him and she didn’t care.

Abby all but ran to her father for a hug, hobbling and struggling a little to balance herself on the blades, urging him to pick her up. Harry walked them over to the same bench from before, helping to untie the laces and hand her her boots and jacket. He was quick to notice that Y/N didn’t walk her out of the rink today, seeing her slowly gliding around in circles as she waited for her next batch of skaters to join her. His stomach dropped a little, his mind immediately wondering if he had done something wrong to warrant her unusual absence this time around. It wasn’t possible for him to have upset her anyway, he doesn’t think, so he stood up with Abby in his arms and neared the edge of the rink again, standing to where she was absentmindedly approaching as she was lost in thought.

She didn’t even realize she was about to slam into the wall if it weren’t for Harry sticking his arm out and preventing her body from colliding against the surface. Y/N quickly snapped herself back to the present, eyes going wide in shock as she put at least a foot of distance between herself and the wall, which also unlatched Harry’s arm from her waist.

“I’m – wow, I’m sorry I didn’t realize how close I was to the wall,” she apologized, scrunching her eyebrows at how she could’ve gotten so lost in her own head to not notice a wall that was approaching.

“Have nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged in response. “Just wanted to say thanks again for watching after her,” he ticked his head at Abby.

“And to say I’ll see you next Saturday. I’m not able during the week to drop her off but I tend to have off on Saturdays. So,” he pauses for a moment, “I, uh – yeah.”

Y/N nodded her head with a small smile, opening her mouth to say she’ll see him next week but he spoke again before she had a chance to push the words up her throat. “Unless I can see you before that.”

Her eyebrows shot up to her forehead, her head slightly cocking to the side at his sentence, wondering if he was asking what she thought he was asking. And again before she had a chance to question him, he beat her to the punch again.

“That was supposed to come out a lot smoother,” he grimaced, nervously laughing to himself as even his daughter looked at him with embarrassment for him. Y/N let out a small chuckle, trying to overlook the fact he just asked her out.

Guess that answers the question if he has a girlfriend.

“Well, I don’t know. Tonight’s my only night off and tomorrow is my only morning off and I think that’s a, uh, little short notice,” her words coming out a lot more sad than she intended. But, maybe at this news he’d say forget about it and just leave her to lonesome because that’s what was best. She needed him to turn it down himself so she wouldn’t feel guilty and so neither of them would harbor any feelings they didn’t need. It would certainly become too messy and Y/N didn’t need more of a mess in her already disorganized life.

But, he didn’t take the bait.

“Tonight works!” He rushed out, hitting himself over and over again mentally as he basically radiated desperateness. “What I meant to say was, I’m available tonight if you are.”

Y/N mulled it over as quickly as she could while on the spot. She couldn’t say no, she never said no, it wasn’t her to say no but there was no way she could possibly say yes. She had to maintain her level of normalcy and that included not going on a date with Harry.

“Yeah… tonight works.”

Well shit.

❊ ❊

“Wear the blue one,” Kelly muffled through the crunch of her chips.

“You think? My boobs kind of,” she paused, aiming the camera of her phone to the shirt on the bed, toying with the dip that sat on her breasts, “Spill out of this one.”

Kelly tilted her head, not blinking at her friend, slowly nodding her head and saying, “That’s kind of the point.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, tossing her phone onto her comforter to use both hands to hook her fancier bra on and slip on the long sleeve blue cotton shirt that tied around the front in a nice bow nestled between her breasts. It felt a bit much for a first date.

But maybe he would be intimidated and put off to how she was showing herself off and wouldn’t want to be seen out with her again. She could only hope.

He insisted he pick her up for the night, and even though he was only going to see the outside of her building, she was nervous he would just smell the poor that stunk up the area. It made her gut wrench and her heart to sink at the idea of him not liking her for her money – or lack thereof, but she really was going to try and enjoy the night.

She deserves one good night.

Her black flare jeans sat snugly on her legs, reaching just up past her belly button, leaving only a sliver of stomach visible between the shirt and jeans. The skin of her chest was a whole different story seeing as how there was basically nothing there to cover her up.

Picking up her friend again to show her final look, Kelly let out a squeal again through her chips, thoroughly agreeing with the choice of attire. “He’s gonna eat you up.”

“Well, I hope not. That’d be an awkward night,” Y/N snickered, tying a black bandana into her usual ponytail.

“Well if you’re lucky he will. In the good way of course,” Kelly winked, eliciting a groan of displease from Y/N.

“Do we know where he’s taking you?”

“Mm, no, he just said to dress casual,” Y/N shrugged, slipping her feet into her flat mules. She actually was pretty satisfied with how she looked for the night, hoping it wouldn’t turn out so horrible. It’d be a shame to waste a nice outfit.

A text notification sent to her phone, alerting her that Harry would be at hers in approximately five minutes. Quick to say goodbye to Kelly and promise to tell her everything, Y/N shut her phone and took the remainder of her alone time to really sit and mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

Trying to navigate how she feels about the entire situation was a lot to take in because it’d probably been close to a year since the last time she even interacted with a male let alone go on any sort of date. She was nervous and intimidated and her anxiety was sky high. She wanted this to go right she really did, but she couldn’t push away those doubts that she would ever meet someone who actually cared about her and properly had their head on their shoulders.

When her phone sounded another notification, Y/N was quick to gather herself and run out of her apartment, giving Harry no time to come to her door even if he wanted. Spotting him standing next to a very nice Mercedes, she had this flashing image of him grimacing at just the sight of her battered front door. But, she smiled at him nonetheless, appreciating the sight of him clad in a nice pinstripe button down shirt with the first two buttons undone, and nearly salivating at the sliver of chest being exposed to her.

And to make everything just so much better, he was holding onto a bouquet of various flowers, looking nervous as ever. Especially when he saw what she was wearing. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the sight of her exposed chest and he hates that his cock throbbed under his jeans. “You look… stunning.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated at the compliment, her head bowing down to look at her shoes before looking back up and taking the flowers from his outstretched hands. “Not too shabby yourself, Mr. Styles. These are beautiful, thank you. I don’t even know if I have a vase,” she nervously laughed, sniffing the flowers now in her hands.

“Just, uh- give me a second to put these inside.” And then she was turning on her heel and running back upstairs to toss these on the table by her front door. She made a mental note to buy a vase the next day, all while also keeping Kelly updated on what’s going on through texting.

When she came back downstairs, Harry was still next to his car, hands in his pockets as he looked around at nothing in particular. At the sight of her returning presence, he perked up, opening his passenger door for her. Even the inside of his beautiful car, the smooth tan leather practically calling to her as she neared closer. “This is a beautiful car,” she blurted, sliding into the passenger side.

He closed the door, quickly walking to his side and hopping in, “Thank you, she’s my baby. Aside from my actual baby, that is,” he chuckled, checking his blind spot before heading out onto the road.

The car ride to wherever they were going wasn’t exactly awkward but it also wasn’t the smoothest experience of their lives. It mostly was a consistent bickering back and forth of Y/N asking where they were going. He only had a couple hours in advance to plan something if he planned anything so how much could he have possibly planned for? But, she was excited anyway because this was nice being able to go out even if it were for just one night.

After around twenty minutes of constant back and forth of laughing and stubbornness, Y/N finally saw where on earth he was driving to. And it was the fair from a few towns over that was held this time of year every year. She’d never actually been herself, but she’s heard stories about how lovely it is and her nerves suddenly started to deplete and were replaced by growing bubbles of excitement.

Y/N can’t remember the last time she had been to a fair, if ever in her life and she sort of felt like a little kid in a candy shop. The moment he parked the car and turned it off, she was quick to unlatch her seat belt and jump out of the car, eagerly hopping on the balls of her feet, waiting to get further into the fair. Harry laughed at her giddiness, holding his hand out for her to take - which she easily slid her hand into his - and led her to the ticket booth to purchase a few rounds of tickets for the rows of games and maybe a ride or two.

“I don’t even think Abby was this excited when I took her,” Harry noted, admiring how happy his date was at the sight of cotton candy and the various stuffed animals kids were holding or were still being hung up.

Y/N hardly heard Harry, silently routing for the young boy trying to win his own date a stuffed animal at the ring toss. “Sorry… I just - I don’t think I’ve ever been to a fair, so this is really nice,” she responded softly, looking up to see Harry with furrowed brows before she retracted her gaze and focused on anything but his saddened eyes.

She didn’t mean to sound so depressing. Thinking about her shitty childhood was the last thing she wanted on this night, and she certainly didn’t want whatever pity was brewing inside that head of his. But little to her knowledge, all he was thinking was how badly he wanted to make this night unforgettable for her. And how badly he wanted to get to know her.

“What do you say we start with mini golf then?” He questioned, pointing towards the miniature mini golf that only had nine holes. “Up for a little competition?”

“Up for a little loss?”

“Oh, oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be? Fine, don’t come crying to me when y’lose, darling,” he shrugged, giving the worker the desired amount of tickets before being handed two clubs and two balls, one yellow and one red.

He lost.

Quite badly too.

And Y/N was smug the entire time. But in a completely endearing way, because ultimately she felt bad at how bad he was at mini golf. It was a makeshift set up so all of the holes weren’t even difficult yet somehow Harry managed to never get below a two on his shots. And the entire time Y/N was smiling at him and poking fun, and even though the night had just begun, she didn’t want it to ever end.

And to think she almost said no.

“I should’ve figured you’d be competitive,” he scoffed, mindlessly grabbing her hand back in his as they walked to their next stop. And she didn’t mind.

“That was not me being competitive,” she laughed, pushing his shoulder gently with hers. “Trust me, you’d know when I’m being competitive.”

“If that wasn’t you being competitive, then what is?”

Y/N thought about it for a moment, wondering if it were worth opening up to him even if about this. She just knew the moment she opened her mouth he would have questions and they were all questions she never wanted to answer. But, against her better judgement, she tore down her walls just a little bit. “I’m a figure skater - or was a figure skater. I don’t take anything less than winning. But back there, I maybe messed up a few shots so you could catch up.”

“Oh, how sweet,” he feigned appreciation, bringing his free hand up to his chest as if he was deeply touched. He was about to ask her a follow up question, wondering what she meant by was a figure skater, but she pulled him to the balloon dart booth, geeking out at the little rainbow bear that was hanging above the worker.

“You should get that for Abby! Told me she doesn’t have a favorite color, and I think she’d love a rainbow bear from her daddy,” Y/N insisted, taking the correct amount of tickets from Harry and giving them to the very bored teenage girl.

“Shouldn’t I be winning you the bear?”

“You can win me another one if you want. This one is for your daughter.”

Harry knew Y/N for a total of three days essentially. And he’s spoken maybe a few sentences to her before tonight. Yet, despite the logistics, he so liked her. There was something about the girl next to him that was adamant he win the prize for his baby girl instead of her that made his heart flutter and made his mind swirl. He hardly knew her, yet he could just tell she had a heart made of gold. Every other woman he’s been on dates with over the years were always immediately turned off to the idea of him having a daughter, begging his attention to be solely on them. But not Y/N. She was embracing Abby with open arms both physically and mentally, and that was an automatic yes in his book.

Abby was his everything, his light at the end of the tunnel, his eternal sunshine. They were a package deal, and have been for the past four years. That much was clear to Y/N whenever Harry talked about her, or how his face basically lit up at any question revolving around her. He didn’t go into much detail, but Abby’s mom wasn’t particularly in the picture anymore, so it was just her and him. They were best friends and Harry wouldn’t change that for anything or anyone. And Y/N respected that a lot, absolutely loving how close they were and how much she meant to him. It was sweet and deep down made her envious, wishing she had a relationship like this with her parents.

When he finally won the little bear, he was so proud of himself and agreed that it was the perfect gift for Abby, holding onto it as they walked over to the food concession for something to eat. “I bet she’ll never get rid of it. When she’s eighty and reminiscing, she’ll pull out the bear and immediately think of you.”

“Please don’t say that; I don’t even want to think of her being five,” he shuddered, letting out fake weeps at the thought of his daughter growing up.

“What about her dating? Hm? Wanna think about that?” She teased poking his side causing him to look at her with the nastiest glare he could muster before promptly turning his head away with a huff, his chin sticking high in the air.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. No talk about her dating or growing up, I swear on it,” she held up her three fingers in scout honor, making him chuckle at her gesture.

“Can I say how good she’s doing in her lessons though? She has a real talent for skating, I think she should go somewhere with it,” Y/N mentioned, grabbing their drinks they ordered as he held their food and walked over to a clear table nearby. “A lot of kids her age or at her beginner level can hardly keep their balance on the ice but, Abby doesn’t need to hold the wall or my hand and that’s only after three lessons. I’m not kidding, Harry, I think she’s meant for this.”

He nodded at her words, surprised at the revelation that Abby actually liked something and was good at it. This wasn’t the first time his daughter gained interest in some hobby before turning on it just a week later. “We’ll have to see if she sticks with it.”

“Maybe you should tell her to. I just don’t want to see something potential be wasted,” she disclosed, dipping a french fry into her little cup of ketchup. Harry picked up on how strongly she felt about this, seeing her get lost in her own thoughts for a few moments before regaining her hold on reality and locking eyes on her date.

“When did you start?” He questioned, biting into the straw of his drink.

She swallowed her fry, twirling the ends of her ponytail around the pads of her fingers. “Started when I was six. It’s good that Abby started early, gives her more time to practice,” she nodded with a smile, and it was so obvious that it was a pained smile as she thought about whatever was going on in her head. And it was hard for him to not notice the obvious deflections every time he tried to ask her about herself.

“Practice for what?”

“Well… What if she can be in the Olympics one day? She’ll need as much experience as possible,” she shrugged back, her voice seeming to grow softer the more they talk about this.

“I assume the Olympics is the ultimate goal?” He wondered, his eyes dancing over the way her face slightly twitched into a frown before being masked by a laugh and bright smile.

“Uh, yeah! It’s every skater’s dream. It’s what we fight so hard for, or maybe that was just me, I don’t know, but wouldn’t it be cool to say your daughter is an Olympic skater or an Olympic medalist? Automatic dad points,” she joked lightly, her eyes hardly meeting her smile.

“Y/N did you ever… make it to the Olympics?” He wanted to ask, he felt he needed to ask, yet at the same time he knew he shouldn’t have. Immediately her fake smile dropped and a layer of sadness washed over her features, something dark flashing across her eyes as her gaze dropped to the table between them.

It’s every skater’s dream. It was her dream, her ultimate endgame, it was everything she wanted and it was within reach of her fingertips. She could practically hold the gold medal in her hand, could see the camera’s flashing, could hear the people cheering, and could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she skated along the prestigious ice.

But it never came true. And it never will.

Instead she’s a part time trainer, and a part time waitress. She can hardly afford her apartment and is just barely getting by. She was just within reach of Heaven, but then she plummeted straight to Hell.

Y/N shook her head softly, eyes glossing over with a light sheen of tears, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip to help her prevent the pesky tears from falling down her face. Her hands instinctively started tugging on the ends of her hair a little harder as she mentally beat herself up for her lost opportunity. “I, uh - had an accident,” she murmured, finally looking up to meet his stare again. There was something about him that made opening up so much easier than it usually is. Maybe it’s because he genuinely seemed curious and cared to know more about her. Y/N couldn’t exactly tell but for some reason she broke down her walls just the tiniest bit more.

“I fell on a landing at Nationals, which was my entrance to the Olympics if I ranked third or higher. I dislocated my hip and twisted my ankle and that was the end. It happened a long time ago though, I’m over it now, I’ve moved on,” she reassured with that same fake smile, taking a small bite from her burger that she’d barely had touched.

It was clear she hadn’t, but they didn’t touch upon the subject anymore.

“Anyway, what about you? What do you do?”

Harry’s main flaw - at least to him - was that he was such a nosey person. The way their conversation around her sort of just terminated abruptly did not sit well with him and that was because there was so much more to the story that she wasn’t letting on. He figures though that since this is only a first date, he can’t pry too much into her life because he doesn’t want to drive her away. Despite her being closed off about herself, he really liked her and he really didn’t want to mess this up.

“I’m a pediatric surgeon,” he spoke nonchalantly, as if it weren’t an actual big deal. But, when he looked up to see Y/N’s eyes bulging out of her head, he guessed he was wrong, it is a big deal.

“You’re a surgeon? Like Alex Karev from Grey’s Anatomy, pediatric surgeon?”

Harry laughed at the comparison. It wasn’t the first time someone brought it up. “Yeah, but a little more real.”

“That’s… Wow, that’s so cool. What made you want to do pediatrics?” She hummed, swallowing her final fry, and chasing it down with the last of her soda.

“Abby. When she was born she had a small abnormal murmur in her heart and I knew that from that moment I wanted to do everything I could for parents and their children.”

As if he wasn’t perfect enough, he just had to be a children’s doctor. It was as if he took Y/N’s heart and strangled it in love and admiration, then stomped on it and left it lying in the dirt beneath their feet. She didn’t match him on any level. She was far from successful and he was so far past it.

All Y/N could continuously think was how could this possibly work out? She was trying her best to look on the bright side, to think positive thoughts, but she just… couldn’t. Him and Abby deserved good, not broken.

The rest of their time at the fair went fairly smooth. They were happy and joyous aside from their little chat when eating and if Y/N didn’t overthink too much, she’d want to see Harry again. She was free in the morning and was tempted to ask him to breakfast or brunch or something. She didn’t want this to end, she wanted to live in this happy bubble for the rest of her life. But, she couldn’t be selfish and needed it to end. It would be good for both of them if they just put this behind them.

When Harry pulled up to the curb in front of her building, he put the car in park and was quick to run around to the other side to open her door before she could get the chance. He took her hand and helped her out leading her to the door that led to the stairway. And if it were being selfish, Y/N didn’t care as she asked him to walk her to her door.

They stood in the small hallway, right outside the old wood of apartment 2, neither of them knowing what to say. But, then in an instant, nothing needed to be said as Harry leaned forward slotting his lips against hers in a quick kiss, his hands coming to rest on the sides of her face as her hands held onto his firm shoulders.

It only lasted a few seconds, maybe five at best, but those five seconds said so much more than anything they actually spoke the entire night. Y/N knew there was no way she was going to be able to let him go, because he was the best thing to happen to her in a long time, and why should she have to give it up? Despite all of the negativity swarming around in her brain she still wanted to get to know him, and she definitely wanted to kiss him more. Maybe it would turn out to be a mistake, but what’s life without a little risk?

The moment Harry touched his lips to hers, feeling the soft plushy texture of her mouth that he had been dreaming of kissing since the moment he first laid his eyes on her hours ago, he knew he was whipped. He knew her for three days and he couldn’t imagine not being able to kiss. And maybe he was desperate or pathetic, but what’s life without a little leap of faith?

“Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

❊ ❊

Saturday’s became their day. It was Harry’s only full day off and Y/N’s only night off, so it became convenient for their dates that have now been on every Saturday for the past two months. And ever since that first date, it was easy for them to say they’ve never been happier.

Y/N’s still trying to find her footing in this whole relationship thing, still finding it hard to believe that some like Harry could possibly like her. She was coming around though. Abby made it a point to tell her every time she saw her when her father wasn’t with her that he says hello and wishes he could be there. Then Y/N would ask her the same every time she left.

The first week after their original date, Harry had walked in with Abby, and without even thinking about it, walked up to Y/N and planted a soft kiss to her right cheek, despite the gawking eyes of the mother’s behind him. They could practically feel everyone’s eyes on them, but it was okay, because it was just a little price to pay for happiness.

That same night he took her out to dinner - at her restaurant of all places, and the entire night was a mess of embarrassment as her coworkers sent her coy looks every now and again that Harry could also very obviously see. Y/N tried to pretend that she didn’t know any of them, but when their waitress also just so happened to be Kelly of all people, it was hard to ignore. And it made for quite the conversation when she had to tell him she worked two jobs and that’s why she hardly had time to even breathe during the week.

What surprised her most when she told him of her misfortunes, was how well he listened. He didn’t seem turned off to the fact she didn’t have one singular stable job, like other men have in the past, and rather he seemed like he didn’t care at all. It was a nice change of pace for Y/N to have someone who seemed interested in her rather than just sex.

Two months had passed and the topic of sex hadn’t really been brought up either. Which again was a total shocker to Y/N since she’s so used to guys asking as soon as they meet her. Yet, the only time she and Harry had mentioned it was when they had been in his car one Saturday night, things getting a little heated as she climbed onto his lap, their mouths dancing together as their tongues lapped over one another.

The make out session wasn’t even meant to get as intense as it did, the gentle rocking of their hips together and the sloppy kisses placed on each other’s necks while her fingers tangled into the curls of his hair and his palms rested gently on her hips right over the swell of her butt, all of it wasn’t even supposed to get that far. But it felt way too good to stop.

Y/N always put her romantic life on the back burner in regards to trying to navigate her actual life instead. Having sex or finding love was something she hardly let herself think about, but when she could feel Harry’s growing erection beneath her center, she forgot how badly she wanted this. It took everything in her to separate their mouths, a trail of spit connecting their swollen lips. It was too much too fast and she wanted to take it slow. She needed to take it slow in order for it to not end just as quick as it started.

And Harry respected her wishes. He didn’t want to mess things up just as badly as her, if not more, and if she didn’t want things to go further, he had no choice but to abide by that.

That didn’t stop him from thrusting his cock into his fist that very same night as he remembered the way she slowly grinded her center against his, the texture of her velvety tongue sliding against his. Those thoughts led him to imagine how her warm mouth would feel against his bright red tip, slowly sinking down further and further until he was grazing the back of her throat.

Since that night the topic of sex hadn’t been mentioned.

When this Saturday rolled around, Y/N was beyond excited for their weekly date night. With their busy schedules it is always hard to see each other during the week no matter how hard they try to fit in some time, so the weekend was always built on a bit of excitement to see one another. And this Saturday was no different, especially since it was Y/N’s turn to plan their night.

After he and Abby left from the usual Saturday lesson, Y/N told him to meet her back at the rink around eight. It wasn’t an expensive date and it doesn’t need a far in advance planning, but this night was truly going to make or break their relationship, because it was easily going to be the most important for Y/N. She planned on opening up to him more than she had with anyone else, and she needed to do that in the comfort of her sanctuary, because - for lack of a better term - she was shitting bricks.

As per usual Harry had arrived right on time. Measuring time had to be their biggest difference, because Y/N always felt like she had a lot more time than she really did, which resulted in her always being late for everything. Harry on the other hand was a very organized man and scheduled himself perfectly to go about his days. Yet the more time they spent with one another, the more they started to adapt to the other, Y/N not being so late anymore and Harry not being brutally early.

Though he did arrive just a minute after eight.

It was a start though.

From the time the rink closed at six, up until the moment Harry walked in the door, Y/N had been busy decorating every inch of the place, setting up their little picnic at one of the tables, stringing lights all around the rink it self, and mastering the best playlist that would be echoing around them until they leave.

Dinner consisted of Harry’s favorite chicken parmesan from her other job that he continued to rave about up until this day because it was just that good, as well as the cookie crumble dessert that had his mouth watering every time he thought about it.

When she saw him knock at the closed entryway, she took a deep breath before scurrying over to him, letting him in from the night time chill outside. They greeted each other with a soft kiss on the lips before she all but dragged him further inside. “Can you guess what we’re doing today?”

Harry’s jaw dropped in anguish, his eyes screwing shut as he whined about the impending future of their night. “Just because my daughter is a prodigy, does not mean I am,” he sighed as Y/N giggled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she stood on her tiptoes to try and match his eye level.

“Try not to worry, you’re in safe hands,” she spoke cooly, recalling what she once said to him about Abby. There’s a reason Abby is learning and - not to toot her own horn or anything - she wouldn’t be anywhere without Y/N coaching her through it.

So, how hard could it be to teach Harry?

The answer was very hard.

After they finished their dinner, sitting for a few minutes to let it settle within them, Y/N had to practically rip Harry off of the bench. It didn’t help that they both also had two glasses of wine coursing around in their veins, which raised Harry’s stubborn attitude from a seven to seventeen on a scale of one-to-ten.

He was nervous, that much was obvious, but if he didn’t relax everything was going to be a lot more difficult for the both of them. “Why don’t you skate your little heart out and I’ll just stay right here,” he gestured to the wall of the rink where he usually stood during Abby’s lessons.

“Where’s the fun in that? C’mon, you can even hold onto the wall. Please?” She begged, clasping her hands together under her chin as she pouted her bottom lip and giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

How was he meant to say no to that face?

Y/N must’ve gotten a few tips from Abby on how to win over Harry’s heart, because within a few moments he was caving in and ripping the pair of skates she picked out for him right out of her hands, grumbling a few not so innocent words under his breath. He sat on the nearest bench with a very exaggerated sigh, almost like a child trying to make their point that they were not happy. Y/N wonders if he took that out of Abby’s book.

Watching him trying to even stand on the thin blades was a sight in itself, and Y/N couldn’t wait to get him out on the ice. He looked sort of like a penguin as he waddled across slowly, hand clenched tightly in Y/N’s as he tried to keep his balance. “Y/N I can hardly even bloody walk on a stable surface, how d’ya think m’gonna manage on ice? It’s hard enough to walk on ice and now I’ve got skates on! I’m g’na crack my skull open,” he rambled on, throwing in a few more curses here and there. Y/N knew it was him trying to stall, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Will you relax, I won’t let you crack your skull open,” she shook her head, pushing open the gate to the rink and stepping down easily on the ice first.

The moment his first skate touched down, he almost slipped forward and almost collapsed in a split, making Y/N try her best to not break out into a heap of laughter. He grabbed onto her arm even tighter as he eased his second foot onto the slippery surface, probably leaving bruises for the next day.

“How the hell does Abby do this? M’scared shitless, hope you know,” he grumbled, trying to scoot a little past the wall, but again nearly falling on his ass.

“Hold my hand, let me pull you so you get a feel of the ice,” she contained her giggles. He was hesitant though as he stood in his place, slightly swaying back and forth as he tried to gain the courage to move his foot an inch forward.

Y/N looked at him with soft eyes, observing all of the nerves that were dancing across his features. Lacing her fingers in his, she raised her free hand to his face, getting him to look at her rather than his feet. “You trust me right?” she murmured, looking into his vibrant eyes.

He almost immediately nodded his head in response, a slight look of confusion carving into his face as his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes flashed between hers. “Of course, why’re you asking?”

“If you don’t want to fall, I need you to trust me,” she spoke reassuringly, leaning up to place a quick peck to his lips before joining him back at his side. Harry took a deep breath in, giving her hand a squeeze before he followed in her instructions and guided along the wall at a slow pace.

Trust was obviously the most important aspect to any sort of relationship, and especially to Y/N. Through her whole life she struggled keeping trust in anyone, and she felt she spent so much of her life getting people to entrust her, yet she can’t remember trusting anyone like she trusted Harry. And it was such a refreshing feeling to see that he trusted her just the same. That’s why this night meant a lot to her, because if he could trust her with his well being and his daughter’s, then it was only right to return the favor.

After his initial fear and trepidation, Harry finally developed a basic movement that helped him in his skating endeavors. He was beginning to gain pride in himself for not falling on his ass yet. They slowly made their way around in one lap after about twenty minutes of missteps and yelps in anxiety. The biggest thing they were going to take away from this experience though was how much fun they’re having. If anything, it’s always good to look on the bright side of things and appreciate the good amongst all of the bad.

When they made it back to the gate, Harry declared that was enough for one night on his part, and couldn’t get off the ice any faster. Y/N was about to follow him, when she mulled over an idea in her head, looking back to the ice. He noticed she wasn’t trailing behind him, and wondered why she seemed stuck in her place. She looked lost in thought, looking around her as she bit her lip in concentration before finally snapping her gaze to meet his after a few calls of her name.

“Is everything oka-”

“This has been my life, my entire life. I don’t know a world outside of this and I’ve kept myself closed off for years. Before you, I don’t think I’ve been on a genuine date… ever because I’ve always been so scared,” she rambled, pacing herself back and forth on the ice.

Harry kept quiet, standing next to the wall now, leaning his upper body down on his elbows. “I’ve been so scared of people getting to know me and my past and my fucking demons that I’ve never given myself the chance to be happy. I grew up privileged, I had - or my parents had money and I was blessed to be able to skate without having to worry about prices or anything of the sort. But, that came with a price which was my parents never letting me breathe and pushing and overworking me, telling me that since they were spending so much money on me that I couldn’t settle for less than the best.

“And I mean, I wanted to be the best anyway; everyone does. But knowing they would be disappointed if I were to get second because I was a tenth of a point behind, hurt like hell. Then, Nationals came and if I placed in the top three, I was going to the Olympics. I was the most confident I had ever been. I knew the choreography, I knew my timing, and I knew how to fucking land… but then I fell. Hard. Twisted my ankle and shattered my hip and it was safe to say I wasn’t going to Russia.”

Y/N looked to her feet and let out a mocking laugh, not even caring that a few tears managed to escape her eyes as she rehashed her past. “As soon as I was able to walk again, my parents kicked me out. Tossed me to the curb and told me to never look back. No money, no friends, no idea of what to do.”

Harry’s heart yearned for his girlfriend. He could tell she had some murky past that always kept her quiet and avoided the topic at all costs, but he never would've guessed it to be like this. He tried to butt in but she held up her hand to stop him, asking him to let her finish. He retracted himself, allowing her to continue on. Harry’s heart yearned for his girlfriend, but it also swelled in pride as she felt comfortable enough to want to share this with him.

“I find it hard to trust anyone because I’m always scared they’ll hurt me like my parents did. If my parents could treat me that way then what’s stopping anyone else?” She took a breath before inching herself closer to Harry, coming to stand right in front of him. “But… then I met you and I find it so easy to let you in, and I think that scares me more than anything. You’re the only person I’ve told this too and I’m working on opening myself up more, I am, I just - it’s gonna take some time. My heart is in your hands, Harry… and I’m begging you to please take care of it.”

Y/N finally finished, swallowing down the clump in her throat, her forehead involuntarily pressing against Harry’s as silence swarmed them. Her doors were opening and her walls were falling down and anxiety traveled up her spine as she slowly stepped out of the dark and into a world she’s never known; A world filled with comfort and happiness. If someone told her two months prior that she would be feeling like this, whatever this is, over a man that was way out of her league, she would’ve laughed in their face and tell them to kindly fuck off.

A few tortuously slow seconds passed by, tears still slowly trickling down her face that Harry took upon himself to brush away. With her doubts and self-deprecating thought process, she was sure he was going to turn around and walk out of her life, leaving her to suffer and wallow alone, just like she was used to. But, then she felt the soft press of his lips against hers, and her body broke down into a pile of tears and cries as relief flooded her.

Y/N grabbed onto his face and pulled him harder against her, their kiss filling with passion and ardor. He held her close, not letting her slip away from him as they broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other again, their noses brushing and their breaths mingling. They smiled at one another, mutually agreeing that actions speak louder than words.

“I promise, I’m gonna take care of you, Y/N.”

And then they were kissing again, this time not as intense but the adoration for one another still leaked through the seams. At this moment, right now, this is exactly where they belonged. In one another’s arms, holding on tight to that trust and pushing aside their worries.

This was all that mattered.

❊ ❊

“I know you’ve got your lavish lifestyle, so please, bear with me,” she cautioned him as she shoved the key into the lock of her apartment door. Y/N had been to his house and it was beautiful as she expected it to be. There was actual room for people to walk around and not feel like they were crowding each other.

Y/N hadn’t actually ever had anyone to her apartment, but even alone she felt crowded in the tight space. When stepping in, the door to the bathroom was on the right, and her living room / bedroom was ahead while her small kitchen and little dining table sat on the left. (this is how i imagine it to look)

The grey blue paint of the walls were chipped in certain places that Y/N has been meaning to fix but hasn’t gotten around to doing. The carpeting looked old and in a certain spot right next to the couch there was a stain from when she accidentally spilt red wine and never was able to get rid of it. A few chinese take out cartons littered her table that she never cleaned from the night before while a few random clothes were strewn about on the floor or her bed. She mentally slapped herself for not thinking ahead and cleaning up after herself, hoping he doesn’t turn around now at the pigsty of an apartment.

“I’m not always this much of a slob…” she grimaced, quickly throwing the empty cartons in the trash, smiling sheepishly at Harry.

“If I didn’t have Natalie, I’m sure my place would look a lot worse,” he brushed her off, looking around at the books she had stacked on a shelf and the small collection of CDs. “I like you, Y/N, a lot. A messy apartment won’t change that.”

Y/N took in a calming breath and nodded her head, trying not to run around and fix everything that was out of place. Instead, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, and watched as he shuffled through the CDs, wondering who piqued her interest musically. Just when he was about to tell her he admired her taste, she turned his body around to face her, her soft eyes gazing up at him, lust dancing across her irises.

“Harry?” she coaxed, a hint of flirtation laced into her voice.

“Hm?”

“Can we have sex now?” she wondered, tilting her head to the side by a fraction, like a little puppy or a curious cat.

Harry’s eyes widened slightly at her forwardness, her question making him gulp in shock. They both knew this was exactly why they came here, but just thought that this was happening was enough to send a chill down his spine. His hands came up to cradle her jaw, desire flooding his veins as various images of her naked body circled around his brain, and as he could practically hear her whiney moans filling the air.

His mouth connected to hers in a fast movement, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip to allow him access to meet hers. She greedily opened her mouth, walking them over the few feet to her bed. The back of her knees met with the mattress, her almost falling over, but Harry held her up. One of his hands wrapped itself into her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her neck to him. He peppered wet kisses along the skin of her jaw, before trailing down to the collar of her sweater.

“Can I take this off?” He mumbled, tugging on the hem of the purple sweater that adorned her torso. Y/N ushered out a small ‘yes’ bringing her arms above her head as he brought it up and tossed it to the side somewhere. His eyes fixated on her chest, her breasts nestled into a black lace bra. Harry was practically salivating at the sight, immediately his mouth pressing against her chest, and he traveled down until his lips met her navel, his knees touching the soft carpet beneath them. His hands caressed her bottom, softly kneading the flesh clad in her leggings.

His eyes met back up with hers as an unspoken agreement was shared, him pulling down the soft black material as it pooled at her ankles. Soon they too were tossed aside, leaving Y/N in her matching underwear set that had Harry seeing stars. Normally, she would be nervous about someone seeing her in such a vulnerable state, but just like everything else lately, she’s never been more comforted in the presence of her lover. The way he looked at her body as if it were heaven, his eyes roaming over every inch without a look of apprehension or disgust.

Harry pushed her to lay back on the bed, keeping her feet on the ground as her knees bent at the edge. He placed a kiss on her covered pubic mound, his mouth ghosting over her pulsing core as he bit down softly into the flesh of her thigh, just next to her core. A small whimper left her mouth as he breathed a line of cool air to her heated center before sucking on her other thigh, again going right over where she wanted him most.

His fingers hooked into her panties, bringing them down her thighs, leaving her completely exposed to him as he then spread her legs wide enough for his shoulders to fit between. “So beautiful,” he purred, eyeing her wet pussy with fervor.

Then a second later he was licking a broad stripe through her folds, the tip of his tongue circling around her clit. A moan escaped her throat as she rocked her hips gently to gain more friction against his tongue. He took her legs and draped them over his shoulders as he began to mouth away at her dripping hole, gathering up all of the wetness dripping out of her. He moaned at the taste of her, the vibrations of his noises hitting against her and causing her to shiver at the sensation before a moan of her own was let out.

He reached up to hands, bringing them to his hair, urging her to tug on his curls when he dipped his tongue inside of her cunt. Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands fisting his hair and pulling on his roots harshly, the sounds of their groans mixing together.

“Harry,” she cried out, her heels digging into his back as she tried to push him impossibly closer to her heat. “Shit... you’re so go-good at this.”

She could feel him smile against her from her words before licking away at her and sucking her clit into his mouth. One hand remained on her thigh, holding on tightly while his other met her pussy, one finger dipping into her and thrusting in at a slow pace. She whined as he added another finger, quickening his pace as he could feel her walls clench around his digits.

“You’re so tight, love. Can’t imagine how y’gonna feel against m’cock,” he grinned, looking up at her through his lashes, leaving one final wet kiss to her clit before removing himself from her completely, her feet falling back to the floor with a thud. She gasped at the loss of contact, eyes rushing over his figure as she tried to coax him back to her.

He giggled at her impatience, stripping himself of jeans and sweater, the bulge in his briefs looking like it hurt as it strained against the material. He palmed himself, a whimper leaving his throat before he leaned down over her and moving themselves further up the bed. He grinded his center against hers, his precum and her wetness leaving a patch of moisture at the front of his briefs. Y/N gulped at the feeling of his covered cock, measuring in her head just how big he was. She assumed he had some length and girth to him just by his aura, but she didn’t expect this big.

When he finally kicked off his underwear, his bright red tip slapping against the underbelly of his bellybutton, Y/N’s jaw all but fell off at the sheer size of him. Immediately she wondered if he was even going to fit inside her or how badly the burn of the stretch of her walls was going to be. It had been a while since she had sex, and now she was nervous.

“Are you even sure that’ll fit inside of me?” She questioned, nibbling at her bottom lip as she looked into his eyes with a little worry.

Harry pursed his lips to contain his smile, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss before whispering, “We’ll take it slow.”

They engaged themselves into a soft make out session, the final piece of clothing being her bra thrown over his shoulder, leaving the two of them completely and utterly bare and vulnerable for the other. No part of this entire night felt rushed and neither of them had this urge to just get it over with. No, instead they took their time with each other, allowing themselves to get used to this new step in their relationship. This night solidified just how serious they were about each other, and taking things slow helped that. It wasn’t about reaching that orgasm or the amazing feeling that comes with it. It was about them and how much this meant.

After he rolled a condom down his length, he positioned himself at her entrance before lacing their hands together and settling them on either side of her head. Then slowly and tenderly, Harry pushed himself in, cries of pleasure leaving their mouths as he stretched her walls. He didn’t thrust himself all the way in at one go, instead rocking his hips slightly back and forth, pushing just a little bit further each time he reentered her allowing her time to accommodate his size. When he was finally all the way in, Harry nearly passed out as her tightness squeezed around him. He stilled himself for a moment, giving her a second to breathe before he pulled back and thrusting back in with a harsher movement.

Y/N was right when she knew there was going to be a burn as her muscles widened around him, and she felt wetness prick at the corner of her eyes before she blinked them away before he could notice. She raised her head to capture his lips in a kiss, looking to distract herself as the pain slowly dissipated into pleasure. Their tongues lapped over one another as Harry quickened his pace, his hips slapping against hers in a more feverish manner. Soon enough, all Y/N could feel was immense pleasure as her once denied orgasm began to build back up.

The tip of his dick, reached so far into her that she could feel him brush against her cervix, a hazy feeling clouding her brain. When he felt her thighs tighten around his waist, and her walls began to flutter around him, he brought one of his hands to her clit, rubbing quick circles on it with his thumb. “G’na cum for me, baby? G’na let y’self go?”

Y/N moaned in response, her eyes screwing shut as he delivered a hard thrust to her special spot, her climax flooding her body quick and hard. She’s never felt herself get off that much, not knowing that she was even capable of that grand of an orgasm. The moment her body calmed down, she felt herself go into a dreamlike state as exhaustion hit her like a train. Harry continued to pound into her, working himself to his own high. Y/N quivered at her sensitivity, but urged him to continue because she wanted to see how beautiful he looks when he comes undone.

His jaw dropped open in the slightest as his abdomen clenched and his prick twitched, the familiar feeling starting in his balls shooting up through his spine before he released into the condom. A lewd string of curses fell from his lips as he gently continued to ride out his orgasm, his body completely spent as they both panted out quick breaths.

Slowly Harry removed himself, taking off the worn condom and tossing it into the garbage before joining her back in bed. “Should get cleaned up,” he muttered, still catching his breath and calming down.

“Mm,” Y/N hummed, turning herself over so her legs tangled with his and her arm draped over his sweaty torso.

Minutes went by when neither of them said anything, and Y/N was convinced he had fallen asleep as his breaths became more steady. But there was one thought on her mind that she needed to get off of her chest, because ever since they started dating it’s been eating away at her. She wanted to get it out of the way as felt her eyes getting heavier.

“Harry?”

A few moments pass before he softly answers, “Yeah?”

“What does Abby think of me? Not as her trainer but y’know… your girlfriend? She tells me how close she is with her mother and I just - I don’t know,” she shrugged, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him.

Harry looked at her, his one hand gently pushing the hair away from her eyes. “She’s the one that told me to take you on that first date.”

Y/N was shocked at this, her eyebrows shooting up at his confession. She knew the little girl liked her as her teacher and the one showing her how to skate properly, but Y/N never knew how she felt about her being the girl her father was dating. Kids don’t always understand how relationships work and Y/N feared the little girl would end up hating her since she was with Harry and her mother wasn’t. “Really?”

He nodded, “She admires you, Y/N. Yeah, she’s close with her mother but in all fairness I think she likes you more.”

“Oh, don’t say that!”

“Why not? It’s true. She can see how happy you make me and I think that’s all that matters to her,” he surmised with a shrug of his shoulders. At this, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss before her eyes fluttered close as she nudged her nose against his in a little eskimo kiss.

She was convinced he was her happy ending. He was the voice she loved hearing, and the person that made her life just a little stressful. And boy, she was happy Abby decided to take up skating lessons.

“You make me happy too.”

#WOW #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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volexis · 3 years

Text

⤷ december 12 ▸ i have fillings for you ft. sugawara

summary: in hindsight, staying up till 2 am might’ve not been one of your best ideas. that is, until you get a call from your very frantic boyfriend asking for your help in baking cookies. what could go wrong?

warnings: there’s like one quasi-suggestive sentence but other than that pure fluff (i hope)

wc: 1.5k

a/n: lowkey ngl i don’t really like how this turned out but she’s here! i was in a suga mood a couple of weeks ago and i wrote this and somehow it turned into me creating this event lmao

note: find the rest of the advent calendar here!

You all but sunk into the mattress as you let out a deep sigh. After an exhausting day, all you wanted was to let sleep overtake you as you bundled yourself in a slew of snug, cozy blankets. Your room was peaceful. The dark emptiness of the night filled you with balmy, heady delight as you shut your burning eyes for the first time in what seemed like days.

A dull buzz rang through the room, sharp enough to pull you out of your half-asleep state. You groaned and rolled over, praying whatever noise dared interrupt you would stop soon. It did, and you smiled in relief, snuggling back into your bed. The noise returned not a second later, this time, accompanied with a bright, blinding light. You reached over to your bedside table, staring at the culprit, your phone, through bleary eyes.

Twenty-four new messages alongside seven missed calls, all from the same person: your dear, loving boyfriend. You clenched your jaw after a glance at the clock, irritation clouding your mind. You answered the incoming call with a growl. “Suga, you better have a good reason for even thinking of calling me at—”

“(Y/N) thank goodness you’ve answered, I need your help!”

Any other day you would’ve hung up on him after thoroughly berating him for calling you at such an ungodly hour, but his words were saturated with desperation and something you hadn’t heard from him in a while: unmitigated panic. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

You could practically feel the warmth from his relieved smile through the phone, and you couldn’t help but glower. “Tell me what happened.”

“So, you remember I have a holiday party at work tomorrow, right?”

You confirmed, and he continued, practically tripping over his words as they sped to leave his mouth all at once. “Ikindasortaforgotthatineededtobakecookiesforthekidsand—”

“I’m stopping you right there. I did not understand a single thing you just said. It’s too early for this,” You felt bad, but you couldn’t help but laugh at your panic-stricken boyfriend. He resembled one of his students before giving a class presentation. “Please, can you slow down and repeat that?”

He took a shaky breath. His next words were slower, sounding them out in a bashful, apologetic tone. “I kind of, sort of, maybe, forgot that I promised the kids I’d bake cookies for their winter party... now all the stores closed and won’t open until after school starts…”

He tapered off as his voice softened into silence, words practically drenched in nervous anticipation. Your irritation bled into a temperate ire as you processed his words. “Let’s see if I understand this. What you called me for, at two in the morning, was to help you bake?”

His silence was answer enough. Your anger faded as his words sunk in, in its place a resigned smile. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Anyways how’re we even going to get this done? Where are we even going to mee—”

“I’m already outside.” You swore you’d murder him one day.

You swung the door open unceremoniously, not at all surprised to see him towing bags of supplies with what could’ve passed as a sheepish smile if you didn’t know him well enough to see the gentle yet smug grin lying beneath it.

You followed him as he strode through your apartment, wincing as he upended the contents of his bags on your counter with a resounding crash. He dusted his hands and turned to you. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

You smiled, and he mirrored it with one of his own, quickly settling into a practiced rhythm beside you. He was in charge of shaping the cookies and monitoring the oven while you mixed the ingredients. The silence that soon enveloped your kitchen was nothing if not comfortable, a perfect backdrop to the soft clatter of your latest midnight endeavor.

“Babe, I’m almost out; can you pass me that flour over there?” Nothing.

“Babe? Suga? Kou?” You turned to face him and almost dropped your bowl. His hands were still; fingers wrapped tight around the scoop, dough dribbling off its edge while his eyes glued to your figure. He sported a smile sweet as sunshine, brimming with tender adoration.

“Kou?” Your breath caught in your throat, voice barely above a gentle whisper. It was enough to snap him out of whatever reverie absorbed him.

As if embarrassed to have been caught staring so unabashedly, he turned away quickly to face the bowl in front of him, pointedly avoiding your inquisitive glances. You wouldn’t have guessed Suga was feeling so flustered if it hadn’t been for the warm tint spreading over his cheeks and up to kiss the tips of his ears.

“What was that all about?” your tone dripped with the same teasing lilt he’d use to croon sweet nothings in your ear in your most intimate moments. It never failed to send electricity singing through your every nerve, and you hoped it would affect him the same way.

“Can’t I look at my beautiful partner?” His words were more brazen than you expected, having recovered from the ruffled state he was in just seconds before. You swiveled to gawk at him, scowling as he snickered at the mild disbelief in your eyes.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this,” you motioned to your attire: rumpled pajamas far too large for your frame paired with mismatched socks, and, to top it all off, a starchy lime green apron. “The epitome of beauty.”

Suga's smile melted into something tender and compassionate as he let go of his utensils; his lithe fingers reached to cup your cheeks and tilt your head to meet his gaze. You held your breath, incapable of tearing your eyes from his.

“I don’t care what you’re wearing, you could be wearing nothing at all, and it wouldn’t change the fact that you’re absolutely radiant.”

He firmly pressed his lips against yours, chuckling softly at your jolt of surprise. The two of you part, and he leans back to look at you, hands drifting to hold your waist and draw you closer. He kisses you again, and again, and again; fervently as your mind spins into delicious emptiness.

You’re both brought back to reality as a timer beeps obnoxiously loud beside you. Suga laughs against your skin and reaches over to check his phone, eyes widening in horror as realization crashes over him. He peels away from you and rushes to the oven, fretting over the condition of his treats.

You smile from your place on the counter, lowering yourself onto one of the nearby chairs to watch your boyfriend dart around the kitchen. You check your phone, and it dawns on you that you’ve been baking for the past four hours. Exhaustion envelops your every sense, and you yawn widely. Suga notices and looks down, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, love. We’re almost done, though. I think this is the last batch. After that, we can go to bed.”

You nod numbly and rest your chin on your palm, eyes slipping shut as you gently succumb to your long-awaited slumber.

You’re woken by soft, dim sunlight streaming through the cracks in your curtains. Almost out of habit, you reach over and search for your phone to turn off any alarms. Instead, you find a plate of cookies, delicately frosted. A small card rested by their side, the ink partially smeared in Suga’s hurry. You laughed quietly. He must’ve woken up late.

Dearest (Y/N),

You don’t know how much I appreciate your help last night. It was extremely unfair of me to call you so late, but you responded regardless. You turned what could have been an evening of inevitable disaster into a memory I’ll treasure forever. You fell asleep after we put the last batch in so don’t worry, I cleaned everything before heading out! Thank you again, really. I can’t wait to see you when I come home; love.

Yours always,

Kou

A fond smile makes its way across your lips as you scan his neat yet rushed handwriting. You dropped the card on the table with a sigh, almost missing a small post-it note attached to the back. Eyebrows furrowing, you flip the paper over to read the words, gentle and deliberate in its delicate script.

P.S. Ironically, I wrote this before I wrote what’s on the card, which makes this more of a pre-script rather than a postscript? Anyways, I’m rambling, on to the actual message.

I got to thinking after you fell asleep last night. Your words stuck to me. I never once stopped to consider you might not believe me when I remind you of how gorgeous you are. You’re my everything; my heart is full of you, so full my words fail me even now as I write this.

I said it once, and I’ll say it eternally. You are beautiful. Though you may not see it, I’ll make sure to repeat it every day until you learn how beautiful you are.

taglist: @tsumuseum @amoroushero @mrslordexplosionmurder @ssat0ris @osamusriceballs @seraphgabrielle @1642lux

additional note: event taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added <3

#sugawara x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara imagine #haikyu!! imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyu!! x reader #hq x reader #sugawara x y/n #sugawara koushi x y/n #haikyuu fluff #sugawara koushi #sugawara fluff #e: writes

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

The Ranch {7}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We are absolutely blown away by how much y’all enjoy this story. We’ve loved writing it for you and we get just as excited for a new chapter as y’all do! Enjoy. xx

The Ranch Masterlist

Nesta hated going to school.

She felt so overwhelmed, so crowded, so completely lost in the sea of people that filled the halls of Velaris High School. Elain and Feyre had always found their place within those halls fairly quickly, absolutely, but Nesta floated. She went from one class to the next, sticking her nose in a book every chance she got. She didn’t make friends. Didn’t have acquaintances.

She did have one go-to, but he didn’t go to VHS. He was in the next town over.

Tomas Mandray.

As soon as she sat down at her desk in algebra, she pulled out her phone. She had three missed messages.

10:31 - Hey. I’m planning on picking you up later.

10:42 - We could stay in, if you want. (;

10:56 - I’ll be out of town this weekend, so spend time with me now.

At first, Nesta almost didn’t reply, but then she typed back, I’ll be ready at 7.

She hated that she loved Tomas Mandray.

———

At seven o’clock on the dot, there was a knock on the front door of the house.

“That's Tomas, I’ll be home later!” Nesta hollered, trying to get out of the house before her father could drag her boyfriend into another conversation about the merits of a lightweight rope versus one with more snap.

“Hold on just a minute!” Isaac called, coming from the kitchen. “That boy is headed to Guthrie this weekend.” Nesta groaned as she pulled open the door and her father practically yanked him through the threshold. “You planning on bringing home a buckle?”

“Yes, sir,” Tomas smiled, shaking his hand. “Always.”

Isaac nodded and said, “Damn straight, I remember my trip to the National Championship, granted, I rode Broncs, mind you, but-.”

“Dad, we have to go. We have reservations,” Nesta coolly lied. “I’ll be home around 10:30.”

Her father waved her comments off. “Nah, don’t worry about a curfew tonight.” He rested his hands on Tomas’ shoulders. “It’s not everyday your future son-in-law makes it to the National Junior Rodeo Championship.”

Nesta’s cheeks burned. “Right. Well, we really have to go.”

She was hurrying out the door, dragging Tomas by the hand as she did so.

“Good to see you, Mr. Archeron!” Tomas called, as Nesta shut the front door behind them. “I like talking to your dad.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t,” Nesta said. She hated when Isaac talked to Tomas. He was so certain that he and Nesta would be together forever, and the thought often made her sick to her stomach yet hopeful at the same time. It was a strange combination.

She climbed up into the passenger side of Tomas’s truck and leaned back as he took off.

“I missed you.”

Nesta nodded. “You, too.”

He reached across the middle of the seat and took her hand. “So, will you be coming to watch me this weekend? It’s the National-”

“-Junior Rodeo Championship, yeah, I know,” she finished.

“Damn, what’s stuck up your ass?” he muttered.

“Nothing,” Nesta sighed. “I wish we could, but dad says we have two couples staying the whole weekend.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost relieved when her father told her that a group of friends had booked the weekend last minute. The last thing she wanted to deal were the buckle bunnies in training that followed the rodeos around. She wouldn’t have to deal with the cheap beer and the greasy food and tobacco spit and the blood and sweat and (usually) tears.

His thumb rubbed a circle into the back of her hand. “Well, maybe just you could come. You could leave with me after lunch tomorrow. You know your dad would sign you out.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, they need me to cook for the guests.”

It was true. No one else in the house had an ounce of culinary ability, and it just so happened to be Nesta’s favorite thing in the world.

Tomas frowned. “No one else can cook for the guests?”

Nesta shook her head. “None as good as me. Besides, I love cooking.”

“Cooking is a stupid thing to love,” Tomas said, and Nesta stilled. “Why cook when you can come watch me win a national title?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have an answer that would please him.

“Besides, after we graduate, you’ll be coming with me on the road all the time,” he went on. “May as well get used to it now.”

“I’m not sure I want to go on the road all the time,” Nesta said. “You know it’s my dream to open my own restaurant, I can’t really do that if I’m travelling with you.”

Tomas shook his head, laughing quietly. “Come on, Nes.”

“Come on, what?” She asked, turning to look at him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Is my dream not as important as yours?”

“Of course not, that’s not what I’m trying to say, babe. It’s just,” he reached over and skimmed his knuckles across her cheekbone. “If you stay here and open a restaurant, and I go pro, we’re never going to see each other.” They came to a stop at a red light. He turned to her. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, I do.”

“Then you need to come with me. So we can be together. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Nesta only nodded, agreeing that yes, she would think about it, but she already knew it wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t made for the rodeo life.

Just like her mother hadn’t been.

It was because of her mother that they even had the ranch, because she loved Nesta’s father, but didn’t love the city to city, night to night lifestyle he lived in the professional rodeo circuit. So after they got married, and Nesta was on her way, her mother had convinced Isaac to hang up his ropes and buy the ranch. And he’d loved it.

And it worked for them, Nesta’s parents. Isaac found his love in ranching, they got to be together and raise their girls. But Tomas would never be that. He was too hard headed, too stuck in the rodeo life. He loved it, and Nesta had to admire that, but she didn’t have to give up her dreams for that admiration.

She was going to become a chef.

She was going to stay put, in the city, or maybe go somewhere like Paris or Barcelona or Tokyo. All she knew was that the last place she wanted to be was stuck in a truck, driving from city to city for the fucking rodeo.

She just didn’t know how to tell Tomas that, because Tomas never accepted an answer that wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

Nesta was so caught up in her own thoughts that it took her nearly fifteen minutes to realize they weren’t on the way to the restaurant. But it took her only a few seconds later to realize where they were going. “Tomas, please, not tonight. We can’t have one night without it?”

He gestured to the arena. “It’s a round robin, babe. I’ll run eight head max and walk out of here seven hundred dollars richer.” Nesta only rolled her eyes and looked out the window. He went on, “Plus, I heard from Beron there will be sponsors here tonight. Granted, they’re here for some big headed jock from VHS, but once they see me, he won’t matter.”

Nesta stopped listening, but subconsciously, she knew that Tomas talked until they parked.

“You don’t even have your horse,” she said, as a last ditch effort. She knew this fact hadn’t somehow escaped him, but she didn’t understand what he was hoping to accomplish by being here without Rain.

“Oh, I’m buying one,” he laughed, as if that was such a minor thing to forget. “Yeah, that’s the whole reason we’re here. So, I can test out this horse. If she’s got some crack to her, I’m not putting a national championship on the line.”

Nesta couldn’t believe him. He’d taken their last night home together and hijacked it.

Pulling into the dirt lot, Nesta breathed a heavy sigh. Tomas hopped out of the truck and reached into the backseat, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and popping the top. She laughed incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you something, too,” he smirked, lifting the wine coolers out of the ice. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that she was looking to drink, too. It was that, once again, she’d been overshadowed by roping. “Come on, I gotta go warm that horse up.”

“I’ll be right there,” Nesta said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing her sister’s number. “I need to ask Elain something real quick.”

“Alright, well, hurry up,” he said, smacking the roof of the truck. “I want you to get some video of me I can post.”

Grinding her teeth, she nodded, and put the phone to her ear. Tomas shut the door and Nesta lowered the phone back to her lap, never even having pressed the call button. She looked out the truck window, out over the fields, that rolled on and on, and just saw...nothingness.

Without thinking about it, Nesta hopped out of the truck, threw her purse over her shoulder and began walking towards the road.

The rustic back roads of Velaris weren’t lit with street lamps, so she pulled her phone out and used it as a flashlight. After about fifteen minutes of walking, her phone died and she was left in the dark.

An older truck, heading in the direction of the arena, stopped when they saw her walking along the side of the road. An unfamiliar voice called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“Miss? Do you need a ride?”

She kept walking and ignored the truck, passing it and disappearing into the darkness.

————

At quarter after midnight, Nesta finally walked up the worn wooden steps of the ranch house. Her phone had been dead for hours and by the time she reached the city, she knew her family would be asleep.

She wondered if Tomas had noticed her absence. She wondered if he’d tried to call her.

She unlocked the front door and crept in, trying to miss the creaking board by the living room doorway.

“That you, Nes?”

She sighed, hoping he wouldn’t come into the foyer, where she stood with one door already on the first step. “Yeah, dad.”

He groaned as he sat up on the couch. “Tomas with you?”

She swallowed heavily. “No, sir.” She started to ascend the steps. She looked like shit, he couldn’t see her like this, covered in dust and who knows what else. She didn’t want to tell him what happened, didn’t want to deal with him telling her that Tomas was the best thing to ever happen to her. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She hurried up the stairs and shut her door with a soft click.

Begging herself not to cry, she slipped off her clothes and slipped into a cozy pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She should take a shower, but she didn’t want to wake her sisters by turning it on. So, instead, she trudged across the hall, into the bathroom, and wiped herself off with a wet cloth.

All she had wanted was one thing: to go to a nice dinner with her boyfriend. Instead, she was left alone for the night in a place that she hated, expected to cheer Tomas on in a sport, in an environment, she couldn’t care less for.

And Tomas didn’t even seem to care or notice. At least now she would get a weekend alone, a weekend spent in the kitchen, a weekend creating dishes that people would praise her for. And it wasn’t that Nesta needed the praise, but when her world revolved around Tomas’s accomplishments, it was nice to be the one appreciated for once.

When her phone finally booted up, she didn’t have a single text from Tomas.

—————

Friday went by pretty uneventfully. She was exhausted, yes, but she was mostly distracted by the fact that Tomas hadn’t responded to her text message that morning.

She had bumped into someone in the halls, between economics and chemistry, and after she’d apologized, he’d stopped her and asked if she was alright. His hazel eyes were bright and his voice was kind. She’d given him a quick nod and gone on her way.

After school, she went straight to the store, gathering ingredients for delicious baked goods and savory recipes she’d been dying to try. Just as she was getting into a good mood, excited to bake for hours on end, she got home, and that mood went straight to hell.

“We’re going to surprise Tomas.”

She had just set her bags down on the kitchen counter when she froze, her father’s words making her smile fade into nothingness. “What?”

“I’ll drive you down, go pack,” he said, waiting for her to be grateful. “Tomas wanted you to go so badly, and I know you want to be there to support him. So, I worked it out, bought tickets, booked a room….Come on, Nesta, take a little roadtrip with your dear old dad to support your boyfriend.”

Nesta frowned. “I- I can’t. I just bought all of this to make for the guests-.”

“I called your aunt to come stay with your sisters and take care of the guests,” Isaac replied, beaming. “Come on, Nesta. This could be life changing for him, which means it could be life changing for you. You want to be there, don’t you?”

No, she thought, she absolutely did not want to be there.

She was fairly sure, if Tomas lack of communication was any indication, that he didn’t want her there either.

“I can’t, dad,” she said, grasping for any chance to get out of this. “I’ve got a final paper due on Monday and I haven’t even started it.”

“You can work on it in the truck,” he replied, packing a cooler with the essentials - beer, of course - and patting the top of it when he flipped the lid closed. “Now, go pack. If we want to see the numbers ceremony, we have to leave before four.” He hefted the cooler up, and was out the backdoor, going to load it in the back of the truck.

Nesta sighed, knowing that her father was just as hard headed as she was. She wasn’t going to win this battle.

She dialed Tomas number one more time, seeing the other three times she’d tried to call him, unsuccessfully, and listened to it ring. When the voicemail started, she said, “Hey, it’s me. We need to talk about last night and I- I need to talk to you. Can you call me, please? I love you.”

------------------------------

It was a four hour drive to Guthrie, Oklahoma. Four hours to sit on her phone and scroll through her timeline. Four hours for her dad to listen to shitty music and act like this was a fun, little trip they were taking. Four hours to flip through recipe boards and save things she wanted to try next. Four hours to call Tomas with no answer on the other line.

Nesta couldn’t even lie to herself and pretend something had happened, couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t getting her texts or calls. He was still posting on Facebook, still sharing pictures he found funny, still going about like nothing was wrong.

And then, with a little less than an hour left in their silent drive, they blew a tire.

For the first time since they began their journey, Isaac’s smile faltered. They pulled onto the side of the road and Isaac turned off the engine. Nesta still had her bare feet up on the dash, still was scrolling through her phone when Isaac got out of the truck.

He was muttering something under his breath but Nesta didn’t pay him any mind. She was too bitter that she was there to begin with.

Maybe they wouldn’t have a spare and they’d be stuck there for the entirety of the weekend. With any luck, they would have to call Elain to come and get them and take Nesta back home.

That hope faded when Isaac pulled a tire out of the back.

The tire was changed, the flat caused by a deep gash from a nail they hit along the road at some point, and they were back on their way. It cost them nearly two hours, though, and by the time they pulled into the skeezy motel her father had booked a room in, the first night of the rodeo was all but done.

Isaac kept apologizing, saying they’d get to the arena early the next morning, that was she could find Tomas before everything began. Nesta wasn’t stupid though, she knew her dad’s old roping buddies were all here, all with their sons or daughters, if there were here for breakaway or to run barrels. She was sure he was excited to tell them that the up and coming Tomas Mandray was his soon-to-be son-in-law. Or so he thought.

The last thing she heard him say before he fall asleep was, “Man, I can’t wait to see his face.”

Yeah, she thought. Me either.

She didn’t sleep at all that night and when morning came she was completely exhausted. On top of that looming exhaustion, she felt nauseated at the thought of Tomas seeing her. She had called him once more before she’d “gone to sleep” the night before but got his voicemail, once again.

As Nesta hopped into the truck with Isaac, she thought she was going to puke all over the floorboards. Her father was so excited at being back at the rodeo that he didn’t even notice his firstborn's silence or discomfort.

Nesta hated him for that, hated him for not noticing, for not listening.

She hated him for forcing her to be here, for forcing her into this life, just like he had her mother.

Tomas was just like her father.

And her? She was just like her mother.

Two people who were attracted to one another but shouldn’t have a future together, because that future would be shit, no matter how hard they tried.

By the time Isaac parked their truck, Nesta was paralyzed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could hardly breathe.

Perhaps she should be the bigger person. She should go and find him, apologize, and tell him good luck. But even though that’s what she should do, the thought had her hands shaking at her sides.

You can do this, don’t be an idiot, she told herself. She should consider herself lucky. At seventeen, she had found someone who loved her.

At least, he told her he did.

Until he got pissed and stopped answering her calls.

“Coming, Nesta?” Isaac asked, grin wide, tapping on her window. He was ready to go dwell in his safe haven. Nesta had to follow him. She was his excuse to be there, after all.

She nodded, and took a deep breath before opening the passenger side door and hauling herself out.

Nesta and her father gave their tickets to the man at the door and walked in. Isaac stopped and stood there, breathing it all in.

All Nesta could smell was horse shit.

“Isaac Archeron, you son of a bitch, what are you doing here?”

With that one sentence, her father was whisked away, into conversations with his old rodeo friends, seeing people he hadn’t seen since before Nesta was ever even thought of. And she was on her own.

Nesta sat down in the stands. She fiddled with her phone, not wanting to scroll through Instagram for the fiftieth time that day, but having nothing better to do.

Until her phone rang.

His name flashed up on her screen. She’d been trying to get in touch with him for three days, yet now that he was calling her back, she couldn’t make her hands work, couldn’t remember how to swipe her finger across the call to answer the phone.

She answered, but her voice was hesitant as she said, “Hello?”

“Nes? Hey, sorry, my phone hasn’t been working.”

Bullshit bullshit bullshit.

“It’s okay,” she lied. She stood, walking down the bleachers and looked towards the entrance. Her father was still where she’d left him, telling war stories and talking about the good ole days. She could see the stables behind a tarp with the rodeo association's name on it. She asked, “Are you warming Rain up?”

“Nah, he’s good to go. I got a ride in this morning. Just getting him brushed down.”

He hasn’t said a single word about her leaving the other night. Had he not noticed? Was she that insignificant that he hadn't even realized she was gone?

“Well that’s good.” She sighed. “Can we talk for a-?”

He cut her off. “Hey, babe, I gotta get going. Wish me luck?”

“Oh, I- Okay. Good luck,” she said. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you, too,” he said, already pulling the phone from his face. “Bye.”

Nesta stood still as the line went dead. With a deep sigh, she shoved her phone into her pocket. He must be getting ready to make his debut for the day, maybe she would be able to catch him, surprise him, before he went.

He wanted her to wish him luck.

Maybe she would, if only she could catch him in time.

She wandered around the bleachers, dodging people who looked like they lived and breathed watching underage rodeo championships.

She had never seen so much hype. The rodeo was somewhere she hoped to dodge as often as possible even though, obviously, she wasn’t always blessed enough to do so.

Either way, she continued on her journey to finding Tomas, but she came up short.

Looking down at her tennis shoes, which were covered in dust and dirt, she scolded herself for not packing different shoes. Not only were her sneakers filthy but her feet hurt like shit from all the walking.

Another name was called to get on deck, but she didn’t hear Tomas’, so she went on her way. Maybe he was off somewhere trying to clear his head.

With that thought, she went around to the back of the bleachers, where trucks and trailers were lined up. She passed people laughing and celebrating in deep conversation, but they all ignored her, thankfully.

She turned the corner at the end of the row, though, and froze.

She had found Tomas, but he wasn’t getting ready.

At least, he wasn’t getting ready alone.

His lips were stuck to a girl’s neck, whose head was thrown back, her eyes closed. He was palming her breast beneath her tied up flannel shirt.

Nesta tried to say something, but she had once again been paralyzed, frozen in place.

“‘Scuse me, ma’am.” An older man leading a horse stepped around her, and the horse whinnied as it passed.

The sound got Tomas’ attention.

His eyes went wide as he saw her standing there, in the doorway to the stables. He blinked a few times, and the girl didn’t realize their fun was over. Her hands roved over his body and she kissed his neck. Nesta began to shake her head and walk away.

“Ne- Nesta, wait!”

She turned and it took everything in her not to break into a run. She wanted to leave. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream.

She wanted to cry.

Her entire future, that stupid future she was dreading so much, but the only plan she’d ever had… it was gone.

“Baby!” His voice was much closer than it had been and his hand closed around her wrist. “Baby! Baby, baby, baby. Hey, it’s not what it looks like.”

Her voice was small, but she said, “Get your hands off of me.”

He didn’t. Instead he gripped her shoulders and said, “Whatever you thought you just saw, I promise you’re wrong.”

“It’s a little hard to misinterpret that,” Nesta snapped, snatching her wrist free. “You ignored my calls. Made me feel like shit for the other night. And while I was feeling like shit...you were getting….” Nesta’s words trailed off, and she laughed, loudly, humorlessly. “Fuck off, Tom.”

“Hey,” he begged, brushing her hair back, the hair that had come undone from her ponytail. “Don’t do this.”

Nesta hated herself for crying in front of him, for shaking her head, for taking a step back. “It’s over. I never want to see you….never want to see you again.”

Her voice broke, and that only made the pitiful scene worse.

Nesta Archeron walked away from Tomas Mandray, and she never wanted to look back.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #toab tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian

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fallingfor-fics · 3 years

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Teachers pet-chapter 22: forbidden forest

All chapters

Chapter 21

It was the next day and id not gone to breakfast or any of my classes. It was Lunchtime and I was supposed to be in Snape's room for lessons. But after last night, I didn't have the energy to get out of bed. I didn't know what it was but I just couldn't seem to move from the spot. Hermione had come to check on me after I had missed breakfast and I just told her I wasn't feeling well. I know she didn't believe me, but she didn't press any further. I felt guilty for not telling Snape that I was gonna be absent from our tutoring sessions today. I guess I could send a note. I reached out for a journal in my bag and tore out a piece of paper.

Dear Professor Snape,

I'm afraid I've come down with something and will not be attending our lessons, or class today. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Y/n

I forced myself to get up folding the note and opening my window. I got Hera out of her cage and gave the note to her, she took it in her beak and I walked her over to the window. "Get this to Professor Snape please. She cooed and flew off my arm out the window. I went and crawled back into my bed pulling the covers up over me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see him after last night, it was too embarrassing, and him not talking about it only made it worse. How did he feel about me now? I thought about what Dumbledore had said. But there was no way the universe would give me the opportunity of me earning this man's affection. I closed my eyes in hopes to just fall asleep so I wouldn't have to worry about these petulant thoughts. But with my luck I couldn't. I remembered the book Ruth had given me and lazily grabbed it from my bag. I looked over the title once more, laying back down and began to read it.

Hera flew to Snapes window landing on his windowsill with a small flutter. He looked up over at her and opened his window. He didn't recognize this owl and was a bit confused at first, he was wondering where you were and why he hadn't seen you all day. He took the note from the owl and looked it over. Had he messed up giving you those lessons? Did you feel violated from him entering your mind the way he did? He was afraid he'd overstepped. He grabbed parchment and a quill and began writing back to you. Halfway through he realized you'd probably not want to speak to him. Unless you were telling the truth and he was just being foolish, and you really were sick. He pondered for a moment before getting up and walking over to his potions closet, he found a small versatile antidote for any common illness and walked back over to his desk, handing it to Hera. "See to it this gets to Ms. L/n" he said as the owl took off out his window and he sat back down at his desk.

I saw Hera flying back in and sat up holding out my hand for her to land on, I noticed a small vial she was holding and she dropped it in my hand. There was nothing else though besides a note that read:

Ms. L/n

This should help with your illness, be careful and don't drink too much or you may get drowsy. I hope you feel better.

Professor Snape

I gave a small smile at the fact he cared enough to send me this, I guess he really did think of us as friends. If only I could get him to think of me as more. I mean it couldn't be too hard could it? Getting the lonesome, cold, and mean Professor to return my feelings. Easier said than done I guess. I thought back to that book I took. Make him jealous? Could that even be done? I shook away the foolish thoughts and opened the vial. "Well i'm not actually sick so should I really take this?" I said, talking to the only person in the room, myself, and Hera I guess. She just looked at me and turned her head. "Well that wasn't a no" I took a swig and almost threw it up immediately. "Holy shit for a potions professor he really gave me the worst tasting potion ever." I took one more sip not sure how much was too much and put the cap back on, sticking it in my trunk at the end of my bed. I grabbed my book again and continued reading it. It was very interesting so far. It was about an older gentleman, very intelligent living in Paris, and he had a particular taste in women, for they weren't women but young girls. I squirmed at the thought, what kind of grown man would like 12 year olds, it's very gross, but I couldn't help to think about the way he talked about his feelings. I hated to say it, he was a bad man, but he didn like them in nasty horrific ways I guess. I paused for a moment thinking about my Professor. He was what 36? And I'm 16 almost 17. Well when I put it that way it definitely makes it worse. He would never love me simply for the fact I'm a child. I got about halfway through the book throughout the day, fighting the sleepiness I began to feel. He had now met Lolita and was explaining how he felt for her, and how she felt for him. In the beginning I was repulsed by the idea of him and a girl. But she loved him and he loved her, it wasn't focused on the idea she was young, just how he felt for her in his heart. This gave me the smallest bit of hope. Maybe if Severus liked me for me and looked past the 20 year age gap it wouldn't seem like such a big deal. I mean this is all irrational thinking anyways since he'd never actually develop the feelings I'm hoping for. I looked up out my window and quickly got up realizing it was already dark. I had missed dinner, and usually this is when Id go for more lessons with Snape. I still could make it if I tried, but it doesn't change what had happened last night and if we were... normal again. I decided against it and took out the vial, sipping more than last time, and layed down. I felt myself grow very sleepy and drift off into sleep, hoping I could just sleep the rest of the week.

I woke up dazed and confused, how long was I out? I looked around and saw it was still dark outside. I looked over at my clock and it read midnight. Is it midnight today? Or of tomorrow? I slowly got up and walked over to the calendar Ruth had taped to the wall next to her bed. Ok so it's still Tuesday, well I guess Wednesday now since it's past midnight. I went to the bathroom and realized I was still in my nightgown, never having changed out of it. I felt nasty though, it makes sense since I was in bed all day. I went to my trunk grabbing my shower bag and new pajamas. I took a quick hot much needed shower and brushed out my hair. Slipping on my underwear, dark green silk pajama pants and a matching silk black tank top. I exited the bathroom letting all the steam out and opened my window a tad. When I did I noticed a note that was on the windowsill, but since it was on the outside it fell and I reached to grab it but it fell outside, I huffed looking down at it and leaned back inside, slipping on some socks and putting on a black knit cardigan, and grabbing my wand. I quietly tiptoed out of the common room into the dungeon hallways, I guess I could have just used magic to grab it, but I needed the air after being in my room all day. I quietly illuminated my wand and began walking to go outside. I didn't see any teachers so far, thankfully. It was kind of late so I doubted there would be a lot of them walking around. As I walked I looked at the dimly lit paintings and such, admiring all of them. I walked out the doors and shivered as I walked into the cold air. Holy fuck its cold, it thought as I walked around to wear my window was. I saw the note on the lightly sodden ground and quickly ran over to it picking it up and unrolling it.

But when I got it open I realized it was blank. I furrowed my brow looking on the front and back, why would this be delivered to me if it had nothing on it? I had assumed it was from Snape about not coming to our evening lessons, but it had nothing on it. I pulled out my wand and held out the note, "Aparecium" I whispered hoping maybe the note was written in invisible ink or something. Sure enough a short note began to appear. But all it said was "Go here" after I read it a small map began to appear. Ok what? There's no way this is real, someone must be messing with me. I looked around me, still outside, but saw no one. I looked back at the paper trying to figure out where it was going to lead me. I looked back up looking around for any students that might be pulling a prank but didn't see any. This could be a very bad idea I thought to myself. I don't wanna get into trouble, but then again I figured it might be important. I began to study the map once more and looked at it intently, it was a very vague map, I wasn't sure where anything correlated to. I began to walk back inside and noticed an arrow on the map move as I moved, I turned and walked th either direction and it still followed me. Wow so I guess i'm just supposed to trust this random arrow to follow the lines. I looked around once more and decided I would at least need my shoes, I looked up to my window and summoned my boots, I slipped them on and let the map guide me.

I took me around the outside of the school and down towards Hagrid's hut. Hmm maybe Hagrid sent it and thought I wouldn't remember how to get to his house. But then again I go here all the time for class, and why wouldn't he just come get me? I kept following the arrow and it took me past his hut and over to the Whomping willow, I knew better than to go there so I stopped. This is weird. Why is it taking me here? I looked at the tree and walked very far around it. The arrow followed and I continued on its path as I got in safe distance from the scary tree. I could see my breath in the cold air and was certain my cheeks and nose were red. I'm sure it didn't help that I had wet hair. I beard the end of the map, my supposed destination and looked up to see where it led me. You have got to be kidding me. It took me right to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Ok this has to be a joke, no way i'm going in there" I said out loud looking around for any sign for what I should do. I looked back at the map and flipped it around trying to figure out if I had gone to the wrong place. But the arrow had turned into an x and I looked back up at the forest. I knew of all kinds of creatures that inhabited this forest, Unicorns, centaurs, werewolves, and hippogriffs to name a few, I was fairly skilled in DADA. But I don't think I could fight off any of these by myself. And Hagrid had told me the stories of the students that disappeared in the forest, so why in my right mind would I listen to a random note and go in. Harry had even told me of the time he and Draco were sent in to find a injured unicorn and ran into The Dark Lord himself, I mean there's no reason the dark lord would want anything to do with me so I highly doubt id see him but the thought still carried in my mind.

#snape imagine #severusnape #professor snape #snape #severus snape #severusimagine #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #hogwarts #slytherin #Snape slowburn

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translightyagami · 3 years

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Mikalight Week fic: 24-Hour Gym

a short mikalight fic for, what else, @mikalightweek. wrote it sort of quick? and its not explicit but is very sensual and there’s a lot of body talk and you can basically assume they fuck after the fic (i was TOO LAZY to write the smut). Anyway.

This fic is rated BPBB, for Bench Pressing Bodacious Babes.

Quiet and soft humid air filled the gym. From the window, Teru watched him with his standard issue NPA duffel bag slung over his shoulder, laughing at a text on his phone. When he looked up, they almost met eyes and Teru turned, facing his reflection in the wall-length mirror. His black hair hung in lank strands beside his face; his grey T-shirt collar darkened into a full-leaf of sweat over his front. The gym door bells jingled as he came in, cheeks pink from the mid-winter outside and a wary smile on his face.

Of course, Teru recognized him. Kira. Light. Above the brown trendy haircut floated his full name, the kanji confusing for a minute until – congealed and solidified – the meaning existed. While Light checked in with the sleepy front desk clerk, he talked loud and high-pitched. It was a voice unlike the one Teru heard in the warehouse, the one that told him after the police and that little white haired boy were dead, to go home. To make up an alibi. And to meet him, at this little 24-hour gym, in ten days.

Watching Light’s mirror twin walk to the back lockers, Teru lifted his dumbbells on autopilot – eleven, twelve, twelve, no wait – before setting them down, grabbing the towel he tucked into his jogger’s waistband. Nervous sweat and exertion sweat mixed together, all mopped away by a monogramed hand towel. When he glanced back up, Light was at the rowing machine.

For twenty minutes, they waltzed: Light moved to a machine, doing his reps, while Teru went to a different machine, did his own program. (An unceasing eye for detail made note that Light lifted about ten under Teru’s lowest weight.) Having shed a jacket now that he’d warmed up, Light worked in a loose white tank top that hung low in the sleeve holes. Every so often, when he reached to grasp a bar, his chest swooped in and out of view. Teru caught scar tissue, though never a long enough glimpse to know its shape. He stood from the arm extension machine and walked to the bench press. All the way he felt two sharp eyes peering at him from a leg machine.

Teru set the plates: two 10 kg., and then two 2.5 kg. plates, an unusual though not overwhelmingly larger weight than he lifted on a normal night. Foolish and near school-boylike, he wanted to show off in front of the other man. After setting the weights, he leaned back and rested his head beneath the long metal bar – and waited. The sound of God walking, a long stride with confident footfalls, was familiar in Teru’s ears. Head haloed in florescent, Light bent above the metal bar with arms outstretched.

“Do you need a spotter?” His tone suggested a joke – ha, ha, who else but me – but Teru only heard the question in serious.

“Yes,” he said, and it was then he realized these were the first words he’d spoken to Light in public. How apt, how right, that their exchange be God extending his hands to help Teru carry such a heavy burden. Light hovered his palms just around the silver length, eyes trained on Teru as he wrapped fists at either end and – oh! – lifted. Every rep, staring directly into a brown-eyed microscope, and Teru almost shook, lost his strength, when their hands nearly brushed. He managed ten reps before gently resting the bar back in place. Sweat dripped off his neck and above him, it made gems across Light’s forehead.

“Wow,” Light said. “You’re pretty strong.”

“T-thank you,” Teru cursed his stutter. He didn’t expect the compliment and it made a little flower burst inside his concrete encased heart. The flower only grew the longer Light looked at him, smile just a pink curve, eyes unnervingly genuine. It was a look that fake people in movies gave each other – Teru hated how much he liked to trust it. God had to be genuine – a kingdom of justice would never stand on false ground. Light’s stare trapped him with a weight deeper and heavier than any dumbbell, and when he glanced away, Teru gasped. His breath had flattened in his chest.

Light left first, at midnight, and when Teru went to his own locker at one thirty am, he found a note shoved into the air slits. On the note was a phone number and curt letter L for a signature. He folded it into the smallest triangle he could, having memorized the number, and set the paper beneath his tongue. As Teru packed his things, nodded to the gym employee, walked into a cold and calamitous city sidewalk, the paper poked and scraped the inner wet flesh. Pain in little bites followed him on his walk – each bright moment a moment of God beside him. Do you need a spotter? A question, a divine extended hand. Wow. You’re pretty strong. Strong, a warrior disciple, God’s most beloved. And, at the platform for his train home, he swallowed the dissolving note – communion.

Teru started working out in high school, when a gym teacher suggested a natural physical ability like his could use sculpting and recognized in him a perhaps genetic inability to play on a team. Ever since the first time, he took to the regimentation, the preplanning and trackable results of gym life. Within the walls of his usual club – the membership to which took up an embarrassing but necessary amount of his pay – Teru found ritual. A work out was an offering to the divine in his own body, and now it became religious practice, a modeling of himself into a better tool for Kira’s will.

This late night arrangement became weekly. On Tuesdays, Teru and Light worked out in the same hole-in-the-wall 24-hour gym, just them and one employee. Two owls dancing around the machines, Teru knew both their stares were gobbling each other’s body behaviors like so many tasty mice. He saw in Light a similar high-school athletics resolve, although the way his muscles smoothed rather than fit into shapes spoke more to sports than targeted workouts. Teru resisted his own snobbery in this observation – though he found a dedication to the perfecting of the body rather than to sportsmanship more pleasing. Kira had his reasons, maybe, for choosing athletic pastimes. There too was a certain leanness to Light’s body as well. Even with a layer of more authoritative muscle, he looked vulpine, foxlike in his lithe frame. His posture retained the slight slouch that many people who were slim in their young adult hood had; in fact, Teru only recognized it since he himself trained it out of his own habits a year prior.

And, yet, the flurry of observation – itself a thrill in its artificial intimacy – didn’t compare to those few minutes where Light leaned over, put his elegant hands out, and spotted Teru’s bench press. He took to doing them more often than his usual schedule. Combined with the bigger weights, an unevenness grew in his routine that Teru would never have allowed before. He couldn’t stop himself though. Anything for a few moments close enough to Light to see the split of his lips, the sweat trickling over his flushed cheeks.

On the fourth week, while Teru wiped down the leg press after he used it, Light approached him.

“Hey,” he said. “Isn’t weird how we’re always in this place together, but we’ve never learned each other’s names?”

“Mikami Teru,” Teru said. The tone was straightforward, and his volume normal – and still he imagined how imprudent he sounded. “I don’t usually go to this gym.”

Light narrowed his eyes and shook his head, just enough to say not the plan. Up his back, Teru’s spine stiffened. It was no joy to disappoint Light.

“Well,” Light said, slick voice untwisting the frustration in his gaze and presenting a smile that bordered on pretty. “I’m Yagami Light. I’ve really admired your routine. Maybe sometime we can meet up. I’m no good with workouts, not like you.”

“Oh. Yes.” Teru nodded. Meet up? Before he could ask a clarifying question, Light spoke over his concerns.

“Call me tomorrow,” he said. “I’m free after five.”

He walked away, not leaving a number except the one boiled in Teru’s stomach. No matter how heavy the weights he lifted, no matter the volume of the baby crying on his bus home, all Teru thought of was his phone and tomorrow after five. His palms itched.

He called at five twenty the next day, having rushed home after a meeting went long, and Teru never heard a worse noise than the ringing before Light picked up. On first answering, his tone was unpleasantly gruff, accusatory – a man in the drag of an older, wiser man. It clashed with the smooth youthfulness of Light’s voice in the gym, which only returned when Teru tentatively said his own greeting.

“Oh! Mikami,” Light said, a balm over the scratches left behind by his put-on masculinity. “You’re calling so late. I thought maybe you forgot.”

“No,” Teru said. “Never. I don’t forget important things.”

“Mm,” Light said. Behind his voice was a tapping sound, someone hitting paper with a pen. “I’m honored to be an important thing. Say, I didn’t catch it before, but where did you say you lived?”

Teru sat on a kitchen stool; he’d been standing, impatient, in the breakfast nook as though preparing to run to wherever Kira needed him. But the question set him down – why did Light want to know? And was it safe to say over the phone? Realizing he’d left dead air too long, Teru muttered that he lived further south – about an hour from the 24-hour gym.

“Oh, I see,” Light sounded mildly perturbed to be have been waiting. “I was just thinking, my girlfriend is making cookies and I thought I’d send you some. Do you have an address that’d be good?”

His girlfriend? Teru didn’t press but his stomach sank. However the phrase stung, he listed his apartment address in dutiful detail. In his ear were the soft scratches of Light’s pen writing everything down and, once he finished, Teru coughed. He didn’t want the phone call to end.

“Did you play sports?” His question flowed out in a proper, clear way, and Teru congratulated himself on how normal he sounded. “Maybe in high school?”

Light went quiet and when he spoke again, the words were cold.

“I played tennis,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I only wondered because,” Teru scrambled for something less damning to say, “you’re in such good shape but don’t like to work out. And usually that’s because of sports, I find.”

“Ah,” a low simmer melted Light’s voice. “You like to work out, don’t you, Mikami?”

“Mm,” Teru said. “I enjoy the time to work on my body. Physical fitness is a key to leading a good, worthwhile life.”

“Interesting,” Light said. He tapped his pen before popping his lips. Their wet click was at once disgusting – the body, the spit, the base physicality of it – and alluring – the body, the spit, the parts of Kira blessed by his own inner spirit. “I’ll send those cookies tonight. Expect them at your door around midnight, hm?”

“Oh.” This wasn’t about cookies. “Yes, I’ll look for them then. Thank you, Light. That’s very kind of you.”

“I’m always kind to my friends,” Light said.

At midnight, Teru heard the curt knock of the one he waited for. Standing in the hallway of his apartment building, wrapped in a coat, green sweater and black jeans, was Light. He smiled when Teru gestured for him to come inside – a good, well-raised smile. In a small childish part of himself, Teru wished to return such a pleasant smile. Instead, he nodded and raised his eyebrows as Light pressed a plastic box into his hands.

“I wasn’t lying, before on the phone,” he said, shaking off his coat. “My girlfriend was baking. She insisted I take some to meet my new friend. My recommendation?” Light swung around, coat on his finger and a wryness to his expression. “Toss them. Misa can’t bake.”

“How unfortunate,” Teru said. I’m a passable baker, he thought.

Light walked further into the one-bedroom space. He put his coat onto the black lacquered hat rack’s lower rung, ran a finger across the tight gray rectangle couch, and complimented the large entertainment center Teru built. When he let it slip that, in fact, he’d built it himself, Teru saw a curl of interest in Light’s gaze.

“I’ve always liked building too,” Light said, shrugging. “But never something so well constructed.”

He wandered into the sitting room and looked to his feet, a play-acted shyness. Nothing in his body language bar the glance down suggested timidity. Teru followed, although he knew his own behavior was less confident. Light flicked his eyes up and stilled Teru’s movements.

“I’m proud of your actions,” he said. “How well you served me, served the kingdom Kira hopes to build.”

A tremor worked through Teru and he sat, unable to keep his legs steady. To be acknowledged made him eager and fraught. Without thinking, he bowed his head, and a warm palm pressed over the back of his neck. Light murmured something.

“What did you say?” Teru asked, eyes going blurry the longer he stared at his own lap.

“I said,” Light slid a finger beneath his chin, tipping Teru up and into his line of vision. “Do you think you could bench press me?”

“I,” Teru frowned, his instinct to refuse presenting weakness. He fought past it. “I can try.”

The smile from before – polite, the kind a mother asked for during family pictures, toothless – warped into the brilliant split Teru recognized from the yellow warehouse. Light smiled in high volume, loud and greedy.

“Perfect,” he said. “Let me undress.”

“Undress?” Teru’s resolve wavered and he stood.

Light shrugged, already popping the button of his jeans.

“Won’t you need better traction?” He asked. “My clothes might cause your hand to slip.”

Breathless, Teru watched God strip down to a pair of black briefs. Shirtless, the two pink scars he saw glimpses of before swiped just beneath Light’s nipples, which hardened in the air-conditioning. Mental deduction took Teru up to chest surgery, although he couldn’t pinpoint the reason. As he stared, Light’s eyes took on impatience not unlike when Teru slipped up in the gym.

“Do I not please you?” Light raised his eyebrows, swinging out his hands. “Do you find God wanting in some way, Mikami?”

“No, no,” Teru covered his mouth. “I apologize for the imprudence. I only was curious.”

“Keep curiosity to the cats,” Light said. “Now, lay back and we’ll try this.”

Teru pushed his coffee table to the side and laid himself down on the sitting room rug. Flat on his back, Light leaning over him almost nude, a strange helplessness infected him. No matter what happened next, he had no real choice other than what Light chose for him. It didn’t help that Light’s gaze had an almost lepidopterist’s leer – staring at a captured butterfly and wondering what pins to use on its corpse. Teru shook himself inside; Kira didn’t think of him as a butterfly. He was a servant, a faithful one, and Kira found him strong.

Stretching up his arms, Teru cupped his hands and met Light with his own stare.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, “slowly place your waist in my right hand and your thigh in my left.”

Light nodded, walking around to stand next Teru’s shoulder. He bent in a gentle arc and his waist was the first thing to touch against Teru’s palm. In a shift, the confidence of before didn’t echo in Light’s actions now. He was cautious, still leaving one foot on the ground as he laid himself into Teru’s grasp. A muffled groaned left Teru; even with his weight distributed away, Light was still heavy.

“Um,” Light said. “Is it okay to let go?”

The question was human, quiet, and Teru wanted to file it away suddenly. He took a deep breath, wiggled his fingers where they held Light, and nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Light gasped as he lifted his leg. Balanced between Teru’s straining arms, he hovered untouched by anything but air and the other man. Teru was in pain – not just from the difficulty of holding up an adult man but from how good Light felt. He was warm, soft, and yet at the same time hard, solid muscle beneath the skin. Gritting his teeth, Teru heaved and lowered his armload until Light’s hip was just above his mouth.

He couldn’t help himself; Teru kissed the bare skin. His lips slid just so over goosebumps, tasting hints of salt and body lotion. Even partway through, he wanted to kiss the vulnerable hip again – memorize the flavor of Kira against his mouth. Light trembled and let out his name in a rasp.

“Mikami,” Light whispered. “Fuck.”

No answer occurred to him, so Teru lifted Light back up. As charged as the moment was, a small part of him celebrated being strong enough to, in fact, perform one bench press of another human. Light squirmed in his hands, too much, and without warning, Teru’s grip loosened. God fell out of his palms and landed hard on Teru’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“Ah,” he shouted at the same time Light yelled, “Fuck!” They sat in sore heap. Teru rubbed his hands together, over and over. He’d failed; he let Light fall, hadn’t been strong enough to keep him stable. With trepidation, he glanced toward the other man prepared to see anger in God’s eyes, but instead Light stared back at him with arousal. His eyes were hot, molten, and his movements became languid.

“You’re so strong,” Light said, and now his voice was like nothing Teru ever heard before. There was a wildness mixed in with hunger. Light looked at him, and Teru wanted to be devoured.

“I knew the moment I saw you,” Light crawled up Teru’s aching body, his words like lava poured from his mouth. “You would be my strongest one.”

“I want to be strong for you, God,” Teru let out. “I want to serve you, be your sword.”

“Oh,” Light laughed, and it was an abrupt sound. Teru couldn’t say he liked it but the brightness in Light’s cheeks was good.

“You’ll serve me very well,” Light said, brushing Teru’s hair away from his ear so he could speak into it. His voice burned into the delicate shell. “Mikami.”

“Teru,” his voice came out a little weedy, yet Teru met Light’s hot gaze with his own resolve. “Call me Teru.”

#me me me #subtextual #death note #my fic #mikalightweek #mikalight #mikami teru #light yagami #sorry if mikami is out of character or any other number of complaints a person could hv about this fic!#he's a character i rlly struggle with and i tried to write him with as much humanity as possible!#anyway! enjoy Mikami Bench Pressing a Half-Naked Light

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years

Text

10. You confessed your feelings and we’re about to kiss but we get interrupted

36. Friends with benefits and both people catching feelings

Wavetide

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E (we’ll be working up to it) Chapter: 1/7

Summary:

She never tells anyone. Well, she admitted it to Ned once because he caught her staring at Peter in a way that was too difficult to deny, but she’s never confessed to the fact that her love for their friend isn’t a solitary tsunami of longing; it sweeps in and out in waves.

Michelle Jones’s life is a world-record attempt at most times falling in love with the same person. She’s loved Peter Parker on-and-off dozens of times since they were 10, and they’re only 12 now, so it’s almost a weekly thing. He’ll make her laugh right when they’re coming in from recess and she’ll love him. He’ll pick her for his squad when they’re doing wind sprints in gym and he’s her thoughtless best friend again. She never tells anyone. Well, she admitted it to Ned once because he caught her staring at Peter in a way that was too difficult to deny, but she’s never confessed to the fact that her love for their friend isn’t a solitary tsunami of longing; it sweeps in and out in waves.

When they wake up, Peter will be 13. A teenager. They’re camped out in the Leedses’ living room in anticipation of the big event. His aunt and uncle are going to host the actual party at their apartment tomorrow, with cake and balloons and everything, but tonight, the three friends have Ned’s pup tent set up indoors (was supposed to be outdoors, but it’s raining). The scenario feels strangely like a farewell to their mutual childhood and Michelle’s having a hard time falling asleep.

Ned’s been asleep for half an hour, but she doesn’t realize Peter hasn’t joined him until she rolls over on the air mattress and he turns his head to look at her. Ned’s on the far end; they always banish him to the edge for snoring. Peter’s hair shushes against the cotton pillowcase as he adjusts, still watching her.

“Do you think it’s after midnight?” he whispers.

“Maybe. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

He smiles at her and Michelle draws her knees up to her chest inside her sleeping bag, hugging them in place. She’s grateful that the three of them are still allowed to do this, have sleepovers in confined spaces and all sleep on the same air mattress.

Peter garbles something through a large yawn and she snickers, shuffling closer. The confusing tug of her reluctance to grow up eases when she concentrates on him.

“What?” she asks.

“I wonder if it’s still raining,” he repeats.

“We could go see?”

Ned’s house after dark is weighted by dense silence. Michelle doesn’t have to ask if Peter feels it too, because they’ve discussed it on other occasions when Ned was the first to conk out for the night. The Leedses’ home is a fascinating place for two kids who’ve grown up in apartments. The lowness of every window looking out on the ground floor, the quiet of no neighbours on the other side of the wall. It’s almost creepy.

They shift their weight carefully, wriggling off the air mattress like commandos crawling under barbed wire, trying not to jostle Ned in his slumber.

“Bouncy castle,” Peter hisses at her and pumps his arms against the mattress to make them both sway on their hands and knees.

“Stop it,” she says, giggling as her eyes flick to Ned. It’s ok, he’s still asleep.

With a rub of nylon, they slither out of the tent. Peter darts his arm back in to snatch his sleeping bag. Michelle glances sideways to see how he’s bundled about half of it into his arms as they pad across the carpet. Ned’s mom drew the blinds and Michelle shuffles over to part them, but Peter pulls her wrist and they go to the back door instead. With a flip of the lock, he slides the glass door open, letting the sound of chittering insects pour through the screen. The rain’s done. There’s a big oak in the yard and Michelle can see the bright lightbulb curve of the moon above its crown before she and Peter sit cross-legged on the floor.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“No.”

But it’s nice when Peter unzips his sleeping bag all the way so they can pull it around their shoulders like two kings with one luxurious cape. Michelle grips the corner over her left shoulder, Peter over his right. Even a year ago, this might’ve been the moment where she confessed to how tired she was and felt him gather her close, making sure the sleeping bag tucked around to cover her knees. Tonight, she has a soft white bra under her pajama top because she’s too aware of her friends being boys to take it off, even to sleep. Under that, she has a heart that gushes and swells with this feeling she gets whenever she sneaks a look at her friend’s sleepy face, the hair that tumbles onto his forehead and curls up above his ears.

“Fireflies,” Peter points out, scratching his finger against the screen when he gestures too fast and misjudges the distance. He’s right. They’re blinking yellow all over Ned’s yard.

“Yeah.”

“You think they’re lucky?”

“Not that lucky. They only live for two months. I read that,” she says. There’s a mosquito bite on the back of her arm that makes her currently unsympathetic towards bugs.

“But what if I want to make a wish on them?”

“On a firefly that’s going to die in two months? Why would you?”

“Lit birthday candles last way shorter than that,” he counters, “and we make wishes on them.”

“Well, that’s just because men are obsessed with demonstrating their dominance over fire. Man master of fire!” Michelle elucidates in a Neanderthal grunt.

“That’s not really why we blow out candles, is it?” Peter asks. She shrugs next to him. “It can’t be,” he says with more certainty. She doesn’t respond. “Still, they’re pretty.”

Michelle looks to see him watching the fireflies, eyes darting to each flare of light in turn. She’s on the dock of her childhood and she can spot the next wave rolling in.

“What would you wish for?” she asks.

Peter scoffs and twists a little so he can focus on her.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You can as practice. The wish only doesn’t come true if you talk about it after you blow out your candles. Allegedly,” Michelle adds, because they aren’t children anymore and she, for one, will not be taken in by nonsense on the arcaneness of birthday wishes.

“A real lightsaber.”

“That’s dumb.”

“It’s not your wish!” he says.

“No kidding.”

He shrugs off her sarcasm.

“I don’t really want anything.”

“Don’t pout just because you can’t be a Gemini.”

“Jedi.”

Oh, she knows what they’re called. She’s employed this particular taunt many, many times.

“Pick something,” Michelle urges.

“I do, uh…”

Peter drops his gaze and plays with the string dangling from the edge of the sleeping bag. This is suspicious behaviour. She studies him, attempting to recall the information on reading body language she’s picked up from true-crime books and fake-crime TV shows. Her parents don’t like her reading or watching that stuff ‘at her age,’ but she’s a firm believer in a running start to teenage rebellion.

A warm breeze rustles the oak’s green leaves and washes over their faces.

“I do want one thing,” he mumbles. It’s barely spoken―the gentle wind is making more noise.

There’s something off and it makes Michelle nervous. Everything inside her, apart from her brain, thinks it knows where this is going when Peter licks his lips and flexes his hands briefly like he does when he’s making a decision. She’s waited for this. She’s scared of this. How it’ll change them. She almost wants to go back to five minutes ago, when they were side by side in the tent with nothing to make them feel older except her feet hanging off the end of the air mattress when she scrunched down to get her head aligned with Peter’s so they could talk softly in the dark. Michelle asks her best friend what it is he wants, but only in her head.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, looking at her.

“Why?” she blurts.

“I just do.”

Her heart’s galloping. The wave’s about to crash.

“I guess it makes sense,” Michelle bluffs. Her whole body feels numb with the anticipation.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll be starting high school in a year and people are going to start getting together so I guess I get why you don’t want to be left behind or whatever.”

Peter faces forward again and she can see him well enough to watch his throat jerk as he swallows.

“MJ, that’s not why.”

“Sure it is. You want practice.”

“It’s not like that,” he says and she’d bet he heard that somewhere, all the old movies he watches, because it sounds too grown up for her Peter.

“Do it then.”

His head snaps up and he looks at her.

“What?”

“Do it. Kiss me.”

She tries to square her shoulders and be the self he knows her to be. The Michelle who steps between bullies and her boys. The Michelle who isn’t scared to hold a bug or go to the section of the Halloween store with the really disturbing rubber masks that have, like, eyeballs dangling out of their sockets.

“You want me to?”

“Yeah, I want to see if you’re good at it,” she says toughly, chin up in a challenge.

“You’ll probably be good at it,” Peter mumbles under his breath as he scoots to face her instead of the door. Michelle mirrors him.

As he leans towards her, she can feel herself inside the wave―water all around and her twirling in a complicated pattern as it decides what to do with her. Not wanting Peter to get all the credit for going through with this, Michelle bends in his direction. Their knees make contact and she glances down at where her best friend’s shins cross. She sees fine brown leg hair, then squeezes her eyes shut as she tilts her face up, scared of however he appears in this moment. She’s surprised that she doesn’t flinch when his fingertips touch her cheek. He exhales in a soft puff, close.

“I really like you,” he murmurs.

Michelle’s underwater and can’t speak.

And then, “COOKIE!” someone yells in the night. A dog yaps sharply in response.

Michelle and Peter spring apart at the sound of one of Ned’s neighbours. Are they going to persevere? Get back in kissing distance and find out if they have some kind of spark that’ll tell them they’re meant to be more than friends? That’s how it seems to work in the old movies she watches and doesn’t tell the boys about. She’s not sure yet where rom-coms fit in the image of herself she’s only beginning to sketch, so she keeps them quiet.

Because she’d rather make a wrong action that’s all her own than react to whatever Peter decides to do, Michelle scrambles swiftly to her feet.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she says. It seems like the least romantic thing she can say. Peter stands too, eyes searching hers uncomfortably. The shared sleeping bag is neglected at their feet.

She strides off and he doesn’t try to grab her to stop her. She’s not sure what she’d do if he did. The bathroom’s down the hall and when she looks back, she sees him in his t-shirt and pajama shorts, scooping up the sleeping bag. A distinct longing to swim out to him surges inside her, but the wave of more-than-a-friendship-kind-of-love flings her away and she faceplants on the beach of Unrequited Crushes. Maybe… soon… they can still try? Because they’re both too embarrassed tonight when she eventually returns to the tent. And she acts like nothing happened during his birthday party. When his uncle dies suddenly and terribly, she can’t put any kind of expectation on Peter for them to be anything but friends. He needs her as a friend. The memory of him standing at the back door with his arms full of sleeping bag lingers. In Michelle’s mind, she turns away from the ocean. If she doesn’t look, she can’t see the wave.

To be continued!

#my writing #Wavetide #spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

may I request taichi with friend/crush reader? reader asked taichi to help them dye their hair, and while the hair dye is processing they start to awkwardly flirt/joke with each other to the point that they don't notice how much time passed and the dye became too dark. i'm sorry if this is too specific, but thank you so much in advance if you do write it! take care! c:

hi hi, anon~ ☆ thank you so much for requesting! this made me sososo #Happy because taichi deserves all the love in the world 💗 !! ∪･ω･∪ please give our baby puppy nanao your heart 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 he deserves it! you also deserve love, anon~ ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) please accept all my #Love 💖✨ for this prompt! thank you for everything, i love you lots, okay? :D 💕

summary: when your best friend, taichi, texts you there’s an emergency, you come running to a bad hair day

author’s note: please love taichi lots, reader! that’s all~ have a good rest of your day and remember taichi & i will always love you sososo much !! (>◡<♡).:｡

word count: 3,055

music: dream boy – waterparks

bad hair day!

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

“where is he?!”

sakyo stared down at you, opening the door after waking up to repetitive pounding that nearly shook the whole dorm

you were still in your pajamas and out of breath—did you run over here?

before sakyo could angrily swear at you for making no sense just past midnight, you ducked underneath his arm and escaped around the corner

although some dorm lights were on, most of the rooms were pitch black as expected of it being a school day tomorrow. you were about to sprint into the slightly ajar door of room 105 before omi stepped out, an amused smile greeting you

“taichi’s in the bathroom, if you’re looking for him.” omi gestured towards the shared bathrooms at the end of the hallway, to which you gratefully thanked him and ran off again

(omi looked after you, a smile upon his tired expression. “kids these days.” omi yawned, heading back into his dorms and shutting the door softly behind him)

you didn’t take as much consideration into your actions before you slid into the communal bathroom, slamming the door behind you with uncontrollable force. you leaned against it, panting as you finally saw him

nanao taichi was sitting near the sink with three (3) boxes of random hair dye on the counters, very obviously confused and distressed

“taichi, what’s the emergency?!”

“my hair dye isn’t the right shade!”

“... are you serious?”

this was it. it was hair–dye day

except this time, it wouldn’t be just taichi’s hair transformation—you were getting a new look, too!

how did you get yourself into this mess exactly? maybe sleepily reading an urgent message from your best friend late at night declaring he was having an “emergency” wasn’t a good idea after all...

there was something about taichi’s big puppy eyes that couldn’t make you say no despite all your frustration, so here you were, tiredly following an overexcited boy down the aisles of the local convenience store

did i mention it was way too late? on a school day, by the way? i didn’t, well, now you know!

“taichi,” you called out, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes and tried not to wince at the bright led lights of the display. taichi barely paid attention, humming an incoherent answer as he browsed the rainbow shelf of hair dyes in front of him

“don’t you think... we should wait until tomorrow?” taichi seemed to process your words a moment late, because he turned towards you, bewildered as if you were the crazy one

yeah, you were crazy. taichi definitely wasn’t holding three wildly different boxes of hair dye and debating between all of them. he also definitely didn’t mislead you into thinking something happened when all he had was s bad hair day. you knew you had to intervene or else his usual red would become kazunari’s palette

“tomorrow? what’s wrong with now?”

“it’s almost midnight, we have school in nearly seven hours, and i know for a fact you didn’t do your homework.”

(taichi flinched at that and you were unsatisfied to see you were right, as always)

“i know that, but!—” “it’s midnight.” “hey, new day, new you, right?” “we have school in a few hours.” “think of how cool you’ll be showing up with dyed hair!” “you have homework.”

“i know, i know,” taichi shrugged, holding the boxes up to his line of sight with serious consideration as he glanced at you. with one look at your tiredness, taichi put the red cart down and completely faced you, putting his hands on your shoulders with a pout

“come on, don’t be like that!” taichi whined, nearly stomping his feet when you just huffed and looked away. jumping so he stayed in your view, it was like a pet wanting attention and using its cuteness as its charm

“hey, hey, look at me, please~?” taichi dragged out, moving his hands so they cupped your cheeks. he made you look at him and all you saw was a backwards baseball cap on a head of nearly half black hair and wide cyan eyes. he looked fully awake, you wondered where his infectious energy came from

“turn that frown, upside down!” taichi turned the corners of your lips up with his pointer fingers, making you automatically smile with the way his giggle got louder. “that’s my best friend!” taichi patted your cheeks again and bounced back down to his heels, rocking back and forth on his worn down sneakers

“look at us! we’re two high schoolers about to make an impulsive decision! nothing could go wrong!” taichi laughed and although there were a million things that could’ve gone wrong, you just sighed with a smile on your face

“you’re right.” you said even if he wasn’t. taichi just picked the cart back up and tilted his head towards the dyes, asking for your opinion on what colors you liked

you chose red, too. when taichi questioned why curiously, you patted his head and responded with, “so we can match!”. the boxes of hair dye you both bought were red just like taichi’s face when you answered honestly

sneaking back into the bathroom to avoid the “you have school” lecture from a very pissed off sakyo who still couldn’t go back to sleep, you and taichi failed at hushed whispers. everything felt like a joke and it didn’t exactly help taichi found everything you did hilarious and comical

setting down the boxes like it was second nature, taichi let out a sound of excitement at the colors. even if you were running on little to no sleep, you felt the same with the adrenaline of looking like a new person in just a few hours

“we’re gonna look so cool!” taichi squealed, taking his time mixing the dye color with the bowl and brush quickly

you sat on the sink counter, swinging your legs as taichi leaned onto the surface next to you, rambling away about how popular red was this season and how all the students will fall in love with his trendiness

used to your friend’s lovesick, hopeless romantic antics, you fondly rolled your eyes as you stretched, stifling a yawn

“is that why you decided to dye your hair tonight?”

“... maybe. there was advice that having perfext roots would attract any woman in my favorite love advice column!”

“...” “do you think people will like my hair?” “they might think we’re a couple since we’re matching.”

taichi suddenly stopped mixing, staring at the bowl wide eyed at the red dye. you were about to ask what happened, before taichi nervously laughed and looked towards the ground

“u–us? a couple?! no way...” taichi blurted out, avoiding your eyes as he began mixing even faster

“do you want me to change my color then—?” you cautiously started, about to change your mind before taichi interrupted hastily, almost knocking the other boxes over by waving his gloved hands

“no! i mean, haha... no, no, it’s fine! don’t worry about it!” taichi laughed so you slowly nodded, not buying it but deciding to go with the flow anyways. you were too tired to think about it too hard

you both unanimously agreed that taichi would dye your hair first. after all, he had more experience doing this by himself until you came along

one thing though, you didn’t want to ruin your pajama shirt. after rummaging through his closet quietly, you felt a t–shirt land on your head and heard a victorious laugh from the doorway

lifting the shirt, you recognized the one–eyed monster graphic design on the front, its tongue sticking out with some graffiti text above its head

“are you sure? you always wear this one?” you hesitated to take it before taichi forced it back into your hands, his expression easy and humorous

“take it, it’ll look better on you, anyways.” taichi casually said and you wondered how many smooth pick up lines he’s been reading. but, one look at his light smile and you could tell he genuinely meant it

returning back into the bathroom wearing a black t–shirt, you had changed into his t–shirt as well. while you were making sure all the dyes were separated to avoid any accidents, you barely noticed taichi stop dead in his tracks

(how come you looked so... good, in his t–shirt? maybe, he should give you his clothes more often... taichi gulped, wondering why he was suddenly feeling this way. it must’ve been the lack of sleep, the tiredness of staying up past his usual bedtime, that’s all!)

“are you ready for the best hair day ever?”

unexpectedly, taichi was quiet for the next hour or so. you could tell from the way he carefully applied just the right amount on your roots to how he knew the time on the box without even looking

maybe it was the way neither of you had proper sleep schedules, but you nearly fell asleep when taichi began combing your hair. after letting it develop, taichi began evenly distributing the red color while humming a popular pop song from his playlist in the background

you didn’t know when you dozed off, but you woke up to a flash of a camera and heard taichi’s snickers right in front of you. rubbing your eyes, you sat up straighter to notice a plastic bag was wrapped around your hair with an empty bowl of red dye discarded in the sink

“morning, sleepyhead~!” taichi greeted way too happily at this hour, making you groan as you stood up. “you didn’t sleep, taichi?” you wondered out loud, noticing how he scrolled through his phone aimlessly with a nonchalant sound

“yawn—i mean! i’m not even tired, gotta wait for your timer to go off to rinse your hair!” (it was his rule that he was always the last person to sleep if he was with you) taichi proudly held up his phone and showed you the screen, as if you could see it from there

(maybe if you could, you would’ve prevented the disaster about to occur in the very near future)

“your turn, puppy. come over here.” you stretched and taichi squealed, running over just to nearly knock over the chair from excitement. taichi always liked doing things with you, and you pampering him made him feel a lot happier than he’d like to admit

“can you stay still?” “i’m trying~! geez, so mean first thing in the morning... uuh...” “awww come on, don’t act like a kicked puppy, taichi!” “woof...”

it was the saddest bark you’ve ever heard. you smiled even if taichi was squirming in his seat and pet his dry hair, your best friend automatically leaning into your touch with a content sigh as he closed his eyes. oh, finally! taichi went still, letting you start the dye process quickly

just like you, taichi was on the verge of staying awake and falling asleep. it was nice to have someone taking care of you like a little kid, not to mention how neither of you have slept for more than half a hour at time. as you applied the rest and making sure all the sections were even, taichi stirred in his sleep with a cute yawn again

“i’m cool, right?” taichi mumbled, seemingly getting closer and closer to snoring. you held back a snicker, nodding your head as you kept going with the dye. for your first time, it wasn’t even that bad

“yes, of course. you’re the coolest boy at o high, taichi.” you reassured truthfully, to which taichi pouted like a kid, crossing his arms and leaning his head back. you made sure none of the dye dripped off before you started painting the bright red on again

“that’s not true... juza and tenma go to o high... they’re so popular, everyone loves them.” taichi added on sadly, but you knew he meant it and it wasn’t just fishing for compliments. wondering why a boy as amazing as taichi would have an inferiorty complex, you frowned and tried to focus on applying the dye

“well, i think you’re the coolest to me, then. after all, juza and tenma don’t have this cool red hair!” you almost ruffled his hair but stopped, knowing it’d mess up the part. taichi must’ve sensed you were about to do so, because he let out a loud, sudden laugh with a big smile

“hehe, you’re the coolest to me, too!” taichi trailed off into a low voice, about to fall asleep for good. you wrapped his head to make sure the hair stayed in place, satisfied with your hard work and dedication to your best friend’s appearance

“do you say that to everyone you meet?” you joked, but taichi just shook his head vigirously, entering sleepy puppy mode anyways

“no, just you, you know why~?”

“why?”

“‘cause... i like y...”

taichi snored, his head falling lower as he fell asleep for good. you didn’t even process it, deciding to take the seat next to him without checking the time

time to get some shut eye...

you slowly woke up, realizing that you were now laying your head on top of taichi’s. he was almost drooling on your shoulder, even breaths leaving his lips as he continued sleeping. you lifted your head to look around for the reason why you woke up, until you noticed the constant ringing of taichi’s phone on the sink counter

“puppy, wake up, it’s time to rinse our hair.” you pushed taichi off, automatically waking him up as he rapidly blinked, trying to focus his blurry vision as he yawned

“... has the sun always been up?”

you froze, staring at taichi’s casual expression before it morphed into shock, his wide eyes finding yours with urgency. don’t tell me...

you rushed off the chair, nearly hitting it to the ground as you grabbed taichi’s vibrating phone, looking at the screen. instead of a timer for rinsing, it was labeled for starting the school day

“taichi.” you said, slowly turning to see him staring back at you. the realization dawned upon both of you severely. “we have school in less than a hour.”

mankai bathrooms were always chaotic in the morning, especially with twenty (20) plus boys all sharing one space. yet, today might’ve been the worst day to use the bathroom yet

you and taichi immediately began cleaning up and rinsing your hair at the same time, losing your minds over the lack of time as you two knew both your hair could not be saved

“what if i’m not cool anymore?!”

“can we focus on going to school on time?”

(banri and juza were exchanging their usual harsh morning greetings to each other, walking side by side to the bathroom only to hear taichi’s pierching shriek and your immediate scream back. they shared a look before collectively going back to their room, not wanting to know. it was the first thing they agreed upon in a while)

taichi dashed out of the bathroom with half a hour to spare, quickly putting on his uniform on without noticing omi who stood by the door, holding onto taichi’s backpack with an amused glint to his eyes

when taichi finally found his o high dark green blazer and pants (his dress shirt buttons were mismatched, but that wasn’t important), he was about to run right past omi before omi put his arm out, stopping taichi from leaving

“forgetting something?” omi held out taichi’s backpack with a packed lunch, making taichi exhale with relief as he took it gratefully. “omi, you’re the best ever!”

omi instead shook his head and crossed his arms, gesturing towards the bathroom where you were still cleaning up the red mess

“no, they’re the best. make sure you tell them that.” omi scolded gently, ruffling taichi’s hair but suddenly narrowing his eyes, looking the teen up and down with a confused look

“huh...? didn’t you dye your hair, why isn’t it that red?”

“don’t remind me, omi!”

(fun fact: leaving hair dye on for longer than 45 minutes will in fact, make the color much darker than intended)

(also... dry hair...)

you luckily brought your uniform, thinking the big emergency would require a sleepover. you stepped out of the bathroom and apologized to the bewildered and incredulous line that formed outside, rushing off to find taichi shoving a piece of bread in his mouth

“here! catch!” you assumed taichi tried to say, because his words were muffled as he threw you something from the kitchen. you caught it with ease, putting it in your pocket as you and taichi said goodbye to everyone in the dorms

you two didn’t even bother addressing why taichi’s hair was many shades darker and why yours was red as well. you two just left and prayed to whoever was listening you’d make it to school on time... or else

half way through making it out the door, you and taichi finally caught each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, nearly falling onto each other in the middle of the sidewalk like a bunch of weirdos

“yo! look at our hair!” taichi spluttered out, reaching up to touch your now red hair. you wheezed, trying to not cry from the sheer audacity of the strange situation at hand

“dude, look at your hair! it’s even darker!” you laughed and even though his bright red hair was apart of his identity, taichi couldn’t stop laughing just because he went through it with you

“am i still cool?”

“definitely, even cooler now, i think.”

the laughter died down and taichi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, grinning like there was no tomorrow

“you’re the best. i’m so lucky to have you.”

you suddenly remembered something you didn’t respond to just mere hours ago, and figured it was better late than never

“i like you, too.”

when taichi overcame his visible shock and multiple “are you serious?! don’t play with my feelings like that!” and figuring out you were being honest, he slipped his hand into yours with a visible jump to his step as you two walked to school

even if he wore gloves, his hands were still somewhat stained red from the hair dye that started it all

(“did you do the homework this morning?”)

(“... we had homework?”)

(“oh, taichi...”)

#nanao taichi #taichi nanao #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #taichi x reader #a3! taichi #a3 taichi

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