Tumgik
#the fact that he says it in front of cream makes this so much funnier omg BDMDBDNDBDMDDBMD
Text
BASKETBALL | CHENLE
Content: Fluff, Basketball Player Au, Athlete Au, Highschool Au, Suggestive Content
Summary: Just moments with the man you’re in love with.
Tumblr media
IMAGINE
Chenle loved playing basketball, mostly because he was good at it. He’s part of the varsity team in my school and everyone would easily understand why he got the spot out of 200 other students. After convincing me to play with him with chocolate and ice cream I decided to finally agree.
You see, I’ve watched a ton of his basketball games and cheered him on with the cheesy posters he asked me to make, something he did just to make fun of me. When we hang-out, sooner or later you would expect a basketball game coming up on the TV. After dating Chenle, I went from knowing one or two things about basketball to shouting at the screen when a player misses a free throw.
I’m not complaining though, I enjoyed the way we bonded over something he loved. Something that was his passion next to music, which I didn’t know about until six months into the relationship. We always focused on what I liked, what I wanted and I can see how much he wants me to be spoiled with attention and gifts but I wanted to give back as well.
So here I stand in the middle of the empty gym, seven at night wondering when my boyfriend would run out of energy. “Ok so you go like this” he stands beside me and does the action on how to shoot the ball. I slowly copy him making sure that I don’t drop the ball accidentally.
“Now jump and throw, focus on the net!” He reminds me before I did my first try, the ball flew up and landed on the rim, it circled around quite a few times and as it did, I wondered whether it would fall in or out.
Thud! The ball fell in. “Ah!” Me and Chenle screamed in excitement, lady of luck was truly by my side today. He engulfed me in his arms, lifting my legs up the air and wrapping it around his waist. “You’re amazing!” he compliments, giving me a loving peck on the nose.
Butterflies. 
“Put me down” I whined even when bits of me wanted to stay. He pouts and I grin, cupping his face and kissing him. He melts into it, his lips molding with mine like it belonged there. 
Well...it did. 
The boy finally puts me down with an evident smile on his face. “Now let’s play!” he runs to the ball that rolled away. 
-----
“Did you have fun?” Chenle asks as he sits on the driver’s seat, shutting his side’s door. “Yeah” I replied as I looked at the time on my phone. It was already nine in the evening and I was tired. He noticed that with the way I replied. 
He connects his phone to the plug in his car and starts to search through his playlist. He bites his lip as if this was the most important decision he’s making today. I rolled my eyes and grinned tiredly. 
“Ah! Here we go” he mutters as he presses on a random song that I wasn’t able to read. 
As the first second of the song played, I felt my heart softening. It was the song we slow-danced to a few years ago, who would’ve thought that I was gonna be with him now.
“Don’t you tell me that it wasn’t meant to be” he sings along, making sure to look me in the eye. “Call it quits, call it destiny” I sing along and we chuckle. He places his head on my shoulder, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers together. 
“Just because it won’t come easily, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try”
I shut my eyes, falling asleep.
---
“Y/n” he says my name with his lips dangerously close to my ear. “What?” I muttered continuing to read through the doc my professor sent. “I think you’re cute, will you go out with me?” he asks and I feel a grin coming up my lips but I fight it off. 
“I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend” I rejected and I felt him pout. “But I’m better than him!” he whines and I try to hold in my laugh.
“I’m smart”
“He’s smarter”
“I’m funny”
“He’s funnier”
“I’m handsome”
“He’s more good-looking”
“What else?” he asks with a grin and I laugh.
“He plays basketball”
Chenle laughs happily and wraps me around his arms. “What can your boyfriend not do?” he asks and I turn my head to face him, the puppy eyes he gave softened my heart. 
“He can’t sleep without me saying, I love you”
The boy snuggles into my neck and I turn my head away to continue reading the doc. He rubs on my waist lovingly, humming against my skin. “Your boyfriend seems cool” he compliments himself and I laugh.
“He really is” I agree and we both laugh together. 
____
“Let’s go Chenle!” I screamed as he dribbled the ball into their court. He steps to the side avoiding the other team and shoots it, his form looking perfect. The crowd screams once more knowing that we’ve won already. 
It’s cringey how people talk about everything going in slow motion when they make eye-contact with their partner but that shit’s real. It felt like time stopped and my heart beat fastened to the beat of the ball hitting the gym floor.
It was less than a minute before Chenle easily stole the ball from the opponent and gracefully avoided the rest of them, he found himself stuck in between tall players so he decided not to shoot but instead to pass to another great player, Mark Lee.
The boy across him catches it with ease and takes a step back, bending his legs and fixing his form. He shoots the ball into the hoop but it misses by an inch. The crowd groans but there was still a 25 score gap between each team, us winning.
The sound of the whistle going off and the cheerleaders running in the middle to perform in the half-time gave an ease to my mind, he can at least rest till the fourth quarter because his coach doesn’t want him to get worn out by the third quarter.
He sits on the bench in front of me. I reached my hand out and gave him a light massage, hoping to comfort his tired body. “You’re doing so good” I reminded him and I watched as he nodded.
“It’s ‘cause you’re watching” He turns his head and gives me a grin, making me grin back.  “Don’t want to disappoint my princess do I?” He asks and I scoff playfully, hiding a smile beneath a pout. 
“I swear, we win every single time I watch your games” I reminded him with pride in my voice and we chuckle together. “You’re my goodluck charm, I need you everywhere I go” he says playfully but deep down the boy meant it, you knew he did and you felt the exact same way. 
——
“Who was that?” I asked calmly but if you stared at my face hard enough, you’d see the crease between my brow and a forming frown on my lips. Some cheerleader walked up to him and started talking but that itself was nothing to me. What mattered was how she stealthily turned her back towards me and tried to hold Chenle’s hand, the only way I found out was when Mina, my friend, passed by and told me in a whisper, making sure to speedily walk away.
“That was Yuna, rumor says she’s interested” he replies, placing his hands behind his neck, stretching his arms and back. “Ok” I try to brush it off so I look down and continue scrolling through my feed. I feel Chenle’s gaze on me, I feel the way he’s trying to figure out if I was actually fine with it or if I was hating it. With my peripheral vision, I watch as his hands crawl up my thigh, rubbing on the covered skin as a sign of comfort.
“Hey” he speaks but I don’t look at him. I do raise my brow as a sign of acknowledgement. “Hey,” he says again, I hum as a reply. “Hey” he calls out and as I let out a defeated sigh, I turn my head towards him.
 “Don’t overthink it, she’s nothing.” There was a brief moment of me searching his eyes for a sign of fear, for a sign of doubt. I stopped because it felt wrong to think that, to think that someone who never failed to stay by my side would even cheat; so this time I nod, facing the flashing device once more.
_____
Chenle pushes me down the bed, ignoring the fact that I hadn’t changed into comfortable clothes. Leaning closer, he leaves pecks on my cheek, my jaw, then down my neck, nipping on the skin to leave love bites.
“Is he trying to make up for what happened?” I thought to myself but before I could process anything further, he gently grabs my chin and turns my head to face him, pressing his soft lips against mine. 
I muffle a moan as his hands crawl down to my neck, wrapping his fingers around that part with his cold metal rings sending internal shivers down my body. The rest was a blur but all I knew was that I fell asleep right after.
___
92-89
The crowd screams as the ball enters the hoop the last few seconds. “We won again!” I yelped excitedly, jumping up and down my spot. “Congratulations to Seoul University for getting into the nationals, we’ll see you soon” The announcer officially ends the game and with excitement in my eyes, I shove my things down the seat and I run down the steps to the court. 
“You did it!” I screamed, opening my arms wide, mirroring Chenle’s movement. He pulls me off the floor and wraps my legs around his waist like he normally does. Instead of us screaming together, he leans forward and with a smile on his lips, he kisses me.
It was gentle and slow, it felt right. The crowd turns silent and murmurs of awe echo through the gym. Slowly I pulled away but we never broke eye-contact, instead I stayed there telling him how much I love him without needing words.
5 more months and he’s leaving. 
____
He intertwined our fingers together, leaving a soft peck on my knuckles. “I’ll see you soon alright?” he whispers, one enough to shatter my already broken heart more. “Okay” I reply, trying to swallow the sobs and the voice crack. 
“I love you” he whispers, “I need you, I want you” he reminds me and I feel the motor on my chest fastening. “Fuck I can’t do this” I let go of his hands and look away, the view of the Incheon Airport exit before my eyes. 
He walks closer to me and wraps his arms around my body just like the way he does to catch me off guard. “No” I croak as I feel a single tear slip down my cheek. Chenle gulps frustratedly but he didn’t stop holding me. 
“I’ll see you soon” he says and I nod, convincing myself that it was alright. 
He gently turns my body to face him and when our eyes met, I swear if I stared harder, I’d drown in his tears. “I love you so much” I cry against his chest and I feel him shaking into the hug. 
“Y/n, you’re all I need and nothing else, so don’t worry,” he sobs. “and  just in case you forgot, I am never not thinking of you and it’ll stay that way, you’ll be my inspiration for university and when it’s time, we’ll live in a house far far away, just like you wanted. Trust me on this one alright?”
“Flight 307 to New York, now boarding, please enter gate 14”
I nod into his chest once more, trying to remember his scent even in the million times I’ve smelled it. “We’ll get there,” he kisses me. “You promise?” I ask and he smiles.
“I promise”
213 notes · View notes
babybluebex · 3 years
Text
waiting [robin of loxley]
pairing: robin hood/robin of loxley x fem reader (y/n)
summary: when robin of loxley is sent to fight, y/n figures out what he meant to her, and how the anti-hero named the hood factors into her lost love. 
word count: 7700+ (oog sorry)
warnings: d*eath mentions, ab*se mentions, v*olence mentions
a/n: so this took a HOT MINUTE to get out, but i was surprised at the response to my teaser about this. hope you enjoy!!
tag list: @nolmao89​ 
Tumblr media
“Rob!” I cried, huffing out in frustration. “You’re so much better than I am, why do you need my help?” 
“I didn’t really need your help,” Rob began, the tip of his tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrated. “I figured helping me train was better than whatever you were supposed to do.” 
He was right, of course. What else did I have to do? My mother would want me to master my needlepoint-- a skill that noble women were expected to know, for some reason; my father would want me to be praying. Neither option was too great, so, of course, when Rob asked me to help him practice archery, I jumped at the chance. 
Before I could react, Rob released an arrow, and it whistled through the air before burying itself deep into a tree across the clearing. He had me draw a crude bullseye on the bark with chalk, saying that I should do it because I have a steadier hand, and his arrow was just centimeters off of the exact middle. “Good job,” I told him. “I can’t do that.” 
It was my turn, and I notched the arrow in the bow. I wasn’t lying for the sake of making Rob feel better. I was truly rubbish at archery. My arrow landed inside the target, thankfully, but nowhere near the accuracy that Sir Robin had. Rob was two years older than I, making him nineteen, but we had been close since we were little. There weren’t too many noble families in Nottingham and, as soon as I was born, Rob and I were matched. I have always known him as the man I would marry as soon as I turned eighteen, but I never considered Rob my “boyfriend” or whatever other girls my age would call him. He was my best friend, through everything that we had ever done. 
Rob laughed. I was sure it was at me, because we both knew that archery was not my strong suit, and I chuckled along with him. “You’re getting better,” he told me. “I think, within a year or so, you’ll be cracking.” 
I sighed. “I don’t want it to take a year,” I said. I marched over to the tree and gripped the thin arrow, and I yanked it out of the tree. Mine hadn’t buried as deep as Rob’s had, and he followed me and easily retrieved his own arrow. “I would very much like to hit the bullseye before our wedding.” 
“I’m sure we can manage that,” Rob laughed. “It might be a fluke, but--”
“Rude ass,” I said with a smile, hitting his shoulder with my fist. “You don’t think I could learn in six months?” 
“I’m sure you could,” Rob began. “But I wouldn’t bet money on it.” 
“You’re so mean to me!” I gasped, and Rob smiled so widely that his eyes wrinkled up. “Why am I marrying you?” 
“Because you have no choice?” Rob offered, and I shrugged. 
“You’re right,” I said. “Annoying, but right.” 
Robin smiled, and he ruffled my hair up. “I believe that you can learn by the wedding,” he told me, notching another arrow and letting it fly within seconds. Another bullseye, just off of the exact middle, and Rob scowled. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”
“Why did you doubt me, then?” I asked. 
“It’s my duty,” Robin said, cocking his head as he examined the target. He suddenly seemed serious, all mirth in his voice gone. “As a man. A husband.” 
“To tear me down?” I questioned, my eyebrows drawing in confusion. 
“So my father tells me,” Rob said. He let the arrow go, and it landed next to the first one. “He tells me that a husband has to show dominance in every situation. If my wife dares to even make a joke that’s funnier than mine…” He paused and trailed off. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Quite so, I’d say,” I agreed. “Who’s your father to tell you how to treat me?” 
Robin nodded. He studied the target for a moment more, then strung up the remaining arrow in his quiver. He took a deep breath, then released it, and I watched as the arrow sailed easily to the direct middle of the target. The scowl remained on Rob’s face as I retrieved the arrows, and I noticed how forlorn he was as I replaced them in the quiver on his back. “Rob?” I said softly. “What’s the matter?”
Rob turned to me, his jaw set tightly. His eyes were set on mine, and I saw the glossiness at the edges. “I have to go,” he mumbled. 
I took a step back. “Did I say something?” I asked. 
“No,” Rob started, and he pulled off his quiver. He let it, arrows and all, clatter to the leaf-carpeted ground before he wiped his hands down his face. He looked tired, and his forehead wrinkled as he set his jaw once more. “No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong.” 
“What do you mean, then?” I asked. “Where are you going?” 
“Y/N, please!” Rob said. He had never raised his voice at me like that before, and I knew instantly that whatever was wrong was bigger than me. He drew in a deep, rattling breath, and I took his arm in my grip. “I didn’t want to tell you like this. I wanted you to be happy, I wanted myself to be happy, Goddamn it all--” 
“Robin, you’re scaring me,” I said softly. “Just tell me, please-- 
“I was drafted,” Rob said suddenly, his voice low and quiet. 
I was quiet as I absorbed what he said. Drafted. The word swam around in my head, and my vision became blurry with tears. My Rob was drafted. “Rob,” I whimpered. “No. Please, you can’t--” 
“I don’t have a choice, Y/N!” Robin told me. He was cross with me, I knew it, and I expected him to lash out at any moment. I had never seen it before, but my friends who were already married told me about how often their husbands corrected them with a hit. I was waiting on the day that Rob began to treat me more like a wife and less like a friend; if there ever was a moment like that, it was now. “I have to go.” 
I took a deep and steadying breath, but the ache in my chest and stomach was too great. Robin was a great fighter and obviously skilled in archery, but he was too kind. He could never kill anybody. The Crusades would be Sir Robin of Loxley’s undoing. “How long have you known?” I asked softly. 
“A month,” Rob told me, looking at the ground. 
“A month!” I exclaimed. “You’ve known that you have to go fight in the Crusades for a month, and you never told me? Robin!” 
Rob didn’t respond, urging me to move a step closer to him to extract an answer. His eyes lifted from the ground to my face for only a second before retreating downwards once more, and I sighed. “When do you leave?” 
“Tomorrow morning,” Rob told me. 
I let his words sink in. Tomorrow morning, Rob would go to war. Tonight would be our last night together. I took in a deep breath and stepped even closer, and I put my arms around Rob. It hurt my heart so immensely to know that this might be the last time I saw my best friend, and I sniffled away my tears. Rob had a habit of getting upset himself when he saw me getting upset, and he had been that way for years. Even when I was little and would cry as toddlers were wont to do, he would do the same. 
“Hey, hey,” Rob whispered, lifting my face out of his neck. His eyes were rimmed with red as he tried to hold in his emotions, and he swiped his thumb across my cheek. “No tears, please, my love. I don’t want my last memory of you to be a sad one.” 
I didn’t want to tell him to not let it be. I didn’t want to tell him that, deep down, I hoped that our last memory would be in the morning. I hoped to see him off, to kiss his hand and call after him as he left. I didn’t want to tell him all of that, because I’m sure he knew. Instead, I hugged him, and I breathed in his smell. “Please come back,” I gasped, my fingers tearing at his shirt. I needed him close, and he complied. “Please, Robin… Please.” 
“I will,” Rob whispered, pressing his cheek into mine. “You have my word.” 
I think we both knew, in that moment, how empty his oath was. He had no control. Nobody did. I didn’t believe in God in the way that my father wanted me to but, that night, as I sat in my bed, I prayed for my Robin. I had always assumed that Robin would be around for me, and I could hardly bear the thought that he wouldn’t be just a woodland clearing away. 
The sun baked my body when I woke up, and I felt nauseous and stuffy. I had laid awake for hours, crying and praying and wishing and hoping, and I desperately needed a drink of water. My mind was foggy as I splashed my face with warm water from the basin next to my window, and I pulled my hair up off my neck. The birds chirped beautifully, and I wondered what time Robin would be over. He always found a way to sneak in without my father knowing to steal an apple and tease me and convince me to train with him. Whether it be archery or sword-fighting, Robin loved training. It was probably the only thing in life he really cared about. 
I began to pull off my sweat-soaked nightshirt, and I spied a small envelope on my desk. The paper was smooth and cream-colored with a sprig of a musky herb stuck to the back with wax. Robin’s handwriting was on the front, my name emblazoned with patches of running ink from where Rob had likely shed tears whilst writing the letter. 
My love, the letter began. As much as I would enjoy seeing you one last time before I leave, I can’t bring myself to ask you to meet me in the town square. It would hurt you too much to see me. My father cut my hair just before I began writing this, and I look like a fool. I don’t want your last memory of me to be looking like a court jester. It hurts me to write this, but we both know that I won’t be returning home. Even if I physically make it back to Nottingham, I will not be your Rob. I want you to remember me as Rob. Remember the time when you cornered me during a sword fight, knocked my own sword from my hand, and laughed. I love thinking of you like that; joyful and victorious and invincible. You looked beautiful that day. I can still feel the bark of the tree against my back as your hair fell in your eyes and you jested with me to “try again”. Have you ever heard of a sore loser? You’re a sore winner, my love. At the time, I told you that I let you win, but that is far from the truth. You won. Not only did you outsmart me (and let me know that I keep my legs fairly unguarded, which I will put into practice later), but you helped me learn something that I had been repressing for nearly as long as I have known you. I love you. Through and through, for the rest of my days. I love you. I wanted to tell you this morning in the woods, but I felt ill at the fact. It’s easier to admit this over a written medium. I knew the exact moment you cornered me with your sword that I loved you. I’ve never loved anybody more than you, and I doubt I ever will. I have to live with the fact that I’ll never know if you love me back. If you do, though, promise me this: stay true to me. Have a home for me to come back to, a bed to call our own, and a love to last for eternity. You, my love, are everlasting. All of my love, Rob. 
My tears caught in my throat, and I choked them down with a horrid gagging. I let the letter drop to the floor as I scrambled to get dressed, throwing my dress on and phishing my shoes onto my feet. My corset was loose around my body as I ran, and I barely heard my mother greet me before I was out the door. My feet slapped the grassy ground as I ran, and the bouncing of the corset against my back was enough to make me strip of it and leave it behind me. I heard the bustling of the town in the square as I approached, growing louder and louder as I drew nearer, and a ragged scream came from my throat. “Robin!” I yelled. There was a mass of people at the entrance to the square, and I knew that my sharp elbows were no match against the older, portly men who blocked my way. Through the crowd, I saw the soldier’s white uniforms, and I sobbed. “Rob.” 
“Y/N?” A distant and faded call came from the soldiers. I would recognize the sound of my name on his lips anywhere. “Y/N!”
“Rob!” I cried, and I stretched my arm out to try to catch any part of my soldier. My outstretched hand was suddenly filled by a strong and warm hand, and I looked through the crowd to see my Rob holding my hand with the tips of his fingers. His face was pale, his tawny hair barely existent, and his green eyes alert. 
“Oi!” he said to the crowd. “I-I need to see my wife!” 
Finally, we were pressed together. My face went to his neck as I held him close, and my skin tried to find something to recognize. His uniform, blindingly white with a bright red cross on his chest, was too rough. It wasn’t him. None of this was Rob. “Didn’t you read my letter?” Rob asked, speaking loudly over the crowd cheering for the departing soldiers. 
“I did!” I told him. “I just--”
“Oh my days, what are you wearing?” Robin chuckled, but I heard the weakness of his voice behind it. 
I couldn’t form words to answer him. Instead, I clutched his face and drew him to me, and I kissed him. Robin didn’t hesitate for a second before putting his arms around me and kissing me back. His hands were firm on my waist, his lips soft against mine, and I felt dizzy when he pulled away. “I love you,” I told him breathlessly, and those dimples appeared in his red cheeks. Rob had the best smile I had ever seen. I was a fool for not knowing years ago that the warmth that Rob gave me was love. I loved Rob. 
“I love you too,” Rob told me. There was a tug from behind Rob that drew him away from me, and he looked behind himself to see another soldier, older and who had obviously fought before, pulling him back. “Your ring,” he began quickly. “It’s in my room at my parents’ estate, on my desk. Please--”
“I’ll wear it every day until you come back,” I told him. “I swear to it!” 
My body tingled with a sting as Rob was pulled away from me, and I watched as he looked over his shoulder at me one last time. I choked on a sob and I nearly fell to my knees, but several pairs of arms were wrapped around me. My maids, as well as my mother’s maids and my mother herself, were surrounding me, draping coverlets over me to protect me; even though I wore a dress, the fact that I had thrown away my corset and lost my shoes on the run basically meant that I wore nothing at all. I knew that my mother wanted to scold me on how improperly I had acted, but she seemed to know the pain I was in. She hugged me tight, pressing my head into her chest, and she let me cry. I wasn’t sure that I would ever stop. 
Tumblr media
A year passed painfully slowly. I had found the ring that Rob had indicated and wore it on my left hand every day. It was light and easy, and I imagined Rob’s father standing disapprovingly over his shoulder as he told the blacksmith how to make it. I tested it, and it easily withstood the strain of archery and sword-fighting. I knew that he had it made small so that we could continue our training together once we were married. 
The first six months were easy; slow, but easy. I had convinced myself that Rob would be discharged for any number of things and come home to me any day. In my imagination, he would mouth off to a superior-- as he so often did in his youth-- and he would be sent home for disorderly conduct. I foolishly believed the little lie I had concocted. I went about my days as normally as possible, but I never realized how often Rob filled my days until he wasn’t there. I constantly found myself wondering what he was doing before I reminded myself that he was not just on the other side of the clearing. 
Then, six months hit. I remembered the exact day we were supposed to be wed, and I could barely bring myself to get out of bed. The day felt like a day of mourning. The entire household was gentle with me, which was expected, but I especially hated it. I sat at breakfast with a blanket over my shoulders, absently listening to the conversation, and it wasn’t until my father barked my name that I truly began listening. “Look at the state of you,” he sneered. “How do you expect us to find you a suitor when you look like that?” 
“I have a suitor,” I mumbled. “Robin?” I saw the clench of my mother’s jaw when I mentioned his name, and my heart sank. “What?” I asked. “Why make that face? Mother?” 
“My dear…” She started. “We got the news late last night.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered. My chest hurt, my stomach hurt, and, if I wasn’t sitting, I surely would have fallen. I didn’t have to ask to know what the news she spoke of was. 
“You were already asleep,” Mother began. 
“Already--!” I started, but held my tongue when I saw my father’s eyes flash with a warning. “You mean to tell me that Rob… Robin is dead?” 
“He was badly wounded in battle,” Mother began. “My dear, there was nothing that anybody could have done.” 
“And you tell me this on the day…” I started. My words failed me, and I put my hand on the wooden table. I bit my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, and my hand closed slowly into a fist. 
“The day? What day?” My father asked. 
“They were to be wed today,” Mother said. “If Sir Robin had not been drafted.” 
I sniffled and wiped my eyes with my fingers. I was done with weeping and sobbing. I had had enough of crying, I decided. “I assume that you have already found a replacement,” I mumbled, anger beginning to replace my sadness. 
“Of course,” Father said. “We have always had a second option. Sir Robert of Rainault.” 
“And who is that?” I asked. “Not from Nottingham, surely?” 
“Yes,” Father continued. “The Sheriff.” 
I blinked a few times. “The… The Sheriff,” I repeated. “The Sheriff of Nottingham. You want me to marry him? Father, he--! He is older than you!” 
“He is the only other nobleman in town,” Father said. “You are not marrying below your station. Even that Loxley boy was a stretch; his father had lost nearly all of their property. They were squarely 50 acres away from having their titles stripped of them. And Sir Robert agreed to let us keep your dowry.” 
“I refuse,” I said quickly. “I absolutely refuse! I’d much rather be sent to a nunnery instead!” 
“You just might be!” Father said. “There are no further discussions! You are marrying the Sheriff, and that’s that.” 
I met him the same night. The Sheriff was a tall man with thinning hair and wandering hands, and I felt sick being in his presence. He wasn’t my Robin. I had sworn to Robin that I would be true to him until he came home and, even though he wasn’t going to return to Nottingham, I intended to keep that promise. I knew better than to explain this to Sir Robert, though. He would have none of a silly little girl who was in love with a dead man. I also knew better than to keep calling him The Sheriff. He told me that Rob would do just fine, and I swore I saw a twinkle of recognition in his eyes. He had to have known that that was what I had called Robin.
We were married exactly a week later. Usually, brides were happy and full of joy. I was shrouded with a veil, and I liked it; nobody could see me cry. The Sheriff’s kiss was nothing like Robin’s. Robin’s kiss was eighteen years in the making, full of unspoken words and harnessed emotions, his mouth salty with tears. The Sheriff kissed me like it was a chore, and I could almost feel the resentment at his core. Robin’s simple ring was replaced by something bigger and more terrible, and I’m sure my husband thought that I had lost Robin’s ring after the wedding. That night, I bit my tongue and cried for Rob. The Sheriff knew, I was sure, but at least I was saying the right name. There was nothing for him to complain about.
However, my husband was wrong. I had not forgotten Robin’s ring. While it was nowhere near as opulent as my wedding ring, it meant the world to me. I couldn’t keep it in our manor, because a maid-- or worse, my husband-- would find it, so I nestled it in a small handkerchief and buried it beneath our tree. The tree with the chalked target for Robin’s archery was the same tree that he had mentioned in his last letter, so I buried the handkerchief there. My tears bubbled up and spilled down my cheeks as I worked to dig with my fingers, and I clenched my sore hands together and mumbled prayer after prayer. I wasn’t sure exactly what I meant by my prayers, an endless stream of ‘please, please, please’, but I hoped that whoever was listening for that sort of thing heard them. 
Days passed at a snail’s pace, starting before I wanted but ending before I was ready. Sir Robin of Loxley frequented my dreams, and I would wake my husband up by screaming for Robin. I thought about him more than I did my husband, and, a few months into our marriage, he began to show me what he thought of it. If I even dared to mention the Loxleys in any manner, I was hit. The Sheriff was never particular about where he hit me; wherever was nearest for him to reach was his go-to. I took to wearing sleeved dresses to hide my bruises and cuts (my bastard husband wore rings that left me with scrapes all over my body), even during the warm months. That wasn’t the only change to my wardrobe. My husband insisted heavily that I wear a veil to cover my hair, citing how cruel certain men were when they saw a vulnerable woman. That procured a genuine laugh from me, and a swift hit in the face from him. 
When I visited my parents, my mother always held my hand the entire time. She knew how badly I was hurting without Robin. Even if I hadn’t loved him so, he was still my best friend. She explained in hushed tones how my father could never understand what Robin meant to me, and that she wouldn’t either, if she had not followed me out of the manor that day he left. She told me that she saw us kiss and reach for each other until we couldn’t anymore, and she told me about how her own heart hurt when she saw how broken I was over him leaving. Mother never came right out and told me that she regretted helping set up my marriage, but I knew my mother. Her watery eyes when she would pat my cheek and see my wince of pain said all that I needed to know. 
Two years after Robin left, nearly to the day, his mother grew very sick. Doctors said that it was a sickness of the brain, associated with Robin’s death and her grief, and she requested that I visit her. As much as Robin was her son, I was her daughter. I read to her and spoke to her about whatever came up, and I saw her getting better. The color returned to her eyes, the same shade of jade that Robin’s were, and I saw the life return to her. The next day, she passed away. I was sitting next to her, reading from a book of fairy tales, when she reached for my hand and took it with a surprising grip. “Y/N...” she began softly. “Was I a good mother to you?” 
“Yes, Lady Loxley,” I replied gently. “As good as any.” 
She nodded. “That’ll do,” She said, then closed her eyes and swept away amongst the wind. By the end of the year, Robin’s father was gone as well. Two years had come and ravaged the Loxleys. I tried my hardest to follow my rule of not crying anymore that I had made eighteen months ago, but I cried when Robin’s father was laid to rest next to his wife. The Sheriff stood at my side, trying to seem as if he were comforting me in a time of great distress, but, in the privacy of our own home, he scolded me for even keeping in touch with them. “You never even married this boy,” he sneered. “Why do you care for him so much?” 
“I was betrothed to him the day I was born,” I said firmly. “I was supposed to marry him, yes, but he was my best friend. I love him, in a way I’m not sure you can fully understand. Your heart is made of ice, Robert.” 
Finally, my years of training swords, knives, and archery with Robin came in handy. The Sheriff wound up to hit me, but I dodged his arm and found my own arm wrapped around his throat. “You are a cruel man,” I spat at him. “Do you not understand love, even in its simplest form as childhood friends?” 
“I will have your hand cut off for this, stupid girl,” The Sheriff told me. 
“I wish you would,” I huffed. “Why did you marry me? You could have left me as I was; alone, heartbroken… You could have left me to be a spinster.” 
“Before Loxley, you were betrothed to me,” The Sheriff said. “Your mother and father were married, and the child from that union was promised to me. Then, those damn Loxleys had that child, and he was of higher standing than me. So, you went to him. You were mine before him.” 
My grip faltered for long enough to allow The Sheriff to throw me to the ground and wrap his sharp hands around my throat. My father had said it himself; there was always a replacement in the wings. Tears leaked from my eyes as I came to a realization that made me sick, and I drew in a shaking breath. “You control the Crusades’ draft in Nottingham,” I whispered, my voice tightening along with his hands. “You control who is registered, who gets called to service… You did this. You killed Robin.” 
Tumblr media
I woke up in the morning to the distant sound of my husband shouting. That was usual. When not physical, he was verbal. I pulled myself from the bed and got dressed, making sure to slip a pair of trousers on under my dress. I planned to visit the long-forgotten Loxley estate as I often did, trying to find any remnant of any of them to keep, but every search came up empty. It was eerie, walking through the estate, all previous owners gone to history. It felt wrong. The tapestries on the wall were faded by the sunlight pouring through perpetually open windows, birds roosted in empty corners of the elegant halls, and books had turned brittle. I was surrounded by ghosts whenever I visited the Loxley manor. My favorite place was the attic, where all of the most valuable of their possessions were held. Usually, it was locked with heavy-smelted doors, but I knew Robin’s father well enough to know where he hid the key. 
Just as I suspected, my husband was throwing a moody when I came into the dining room. “That damned Hood!” he scowled, holding his newspaper so hard that I was sure it would crumble. 
The Hood was a menace to The Sheriff. He stole from all of the more noble in Nottingham and distributed the wealth to the people who lived in squalor on the outskirts of the town. I admired what The Hood did, but I knew better than to admit that. “If I ever catch that bastard, I will have him killed.” 
“For what exactly?” I asked. 
“What not?” The Sheriff scoffed. “Thievery… Other things.” 
“There are plenty of thieves in Nottingham,” I replied. “You don’t like The Hood because he constantly evades capture and embarrasses you.” 
My husband looked at me with cold eyes. He studied me, trying to find something to take problem with, and he finally said, “Leave.” 
I left for the Loxley manner soon after. I was never sure what I was after when I went there. Maybe to find a forgotten memory of some kind. The stone was crumbling, ivy was growing uncontrollably up the side, and the entire place was in complete disrepair. The moment I walked into the warm attic, though, I knew something was different. Everything looked the same, but the energy in the air was different. I stepped carefully, trying not to disrupt the dusted floor.  The closer I looked, the more inconsistencies I found since the last time I had visited. That chair had not always faced the wall. The painting of Robin’s father had a small hole in the nose; moths could be to blame, but I doubted it. The differences were small, but I saw them. Someone had been there. 
I sat down at a small table, and I tilted my head to see the dust-covered tabletop free of dust in one place. I placed my hand gently in the middle of the clean patch, and I saw a clear handprint. The hand was larger than mine; a man’s hand. I clenched my jaw and carefully palmed a small dagger, and my eyes darted to all sides of the attic. Who else knew where the key was? I heard the gentle coo of a mother pigeon far off, and the rustling of feathers, and my nerves went on high alert. Pigeons were common in the old attic, but never in the morning. “Who’s there?” I shouted, standing suddenly and pushing my chair over with a thunderous crash. “Whoever’s there, you’re trespassing!”
I heard the rustle of a very non-birdlike entity behind me, and I turned just in time to have a knife sail by my head. There stood a large man, easily seven feet tall, skin dark and marked all over with scars. He wore a long coat and held several knives in one hand. His other hand was gone, his arm ending in a haunting nub right above the wrist. “And what about you, my sweet?” he asked in an accented voice as rough as rocks, and he let another knife sail towards me. Robin’s voice whispered in my ear as it always did, telling me what to do, and I threw my arm up to meet the knife in mid-air, knocking it off its course and making it clatter to the side. “You’re trespassing as much as I am.”
“This--!” I began, and paused to dodge another throwing knife. “Is my family’s manor!” 
“And what family would that be?” The man asked smoothly, one knife left in his hand. 
“My husband!” I yelled, and the final knife sailed by me, and my arm stung as the sharp blade cut my arm on its way past. It began to bleed immediately, and I groaned in pain. “Ah! Fuck!” 
“English!” The man shouted, and three arrows buried themselves in the wooden floor just in front of my feet. I looked upwards, tracing the arrows as I had been taught, and my eyes found a dark figure in the beams of the ceiling. They had a large bow and arrow around them, and they traipsed down to the floor with the skill of someone who has always done those sort of stunts. Another arrow was cocked and flew before I could fully finish registering this new person, and it whizzed past my head with an uncomfortable lack of distance. They notched another arrow and let it go within a second, and I dodged it by leaning backwards. My back was not at all ready for the sudden test of flexibility, because I toppled backwards into the table and chair. In my breathless state, I was able to see my new attacker. All skin was covered, from their legs to their hands to their head with a heavy, black hood. The Hood. I had heard my husband speak of him enough times to know him by looks alone. His face was covered by a blue cloth, leaving only his eyes visible. Startlingly green, rimmed with red and purple exhaustion, trained on me with murder in his eyes. The next arrow that flew buried itself right next to my head, and the man stepped closer and closer to me with each arrow. He walked easily, firing arrows with precise expertise, and the larger man shouted at him. “Hurry now, English!” he yelled. “Finish this!” 
I was frozen in plain fear by the time the man was right on me. I was shaking as I stared up at him, and he trained an arrow at my face. I scrambled backwards, trying to escape in any capacity, and my hand slipped from under me when it caught on my veil. It slipped off of my head and I fell backwards and smacked my head against the wooden floor, and my eyes watered with pain. When I looked at the archer next, those hard green eyes had softened, and his arms went slack for a split second. That, the moment of hesitation where he realized that he was about to kill a married woman, was all I needed. I hooked my feet around his leg and kicked the back of his knee, and he crumpled on top of me with a cry of surprise. The knife in my hand went to his throat, and I wrestled him to the floor. My knee went to his stomach, forcing a gasp from his chest, and my knife nestled easily in the hollow of his neck. “English!” The man yelled with fervor, but the archer-- The Hood, the man called English-- only stared up at me. His chest barely moved, but I could feel his heartbeat against my blade. Scared? Nervous, perhaps? Unsure of what to do when bested by a woman? 
I took The Hood with a hand around his throat and forced him to his feet. My knife found home in his neck again, and my eyes trained on the large man across from us. “Who are you?” I asked. 
“A better question would be who are you?” The man asked. 
“I am Lady Y/N Loxley,” I answered with a bite. “I own this manor.” 
“Loxley?” The man asked, a glimmer of recognition in his dark eyes. “As in… Robin of Loxley?” 
After four years, the mention of his name no longer fazed me. However, the name seemed to trigger something in The Hood, because he jolted hard enough to force a pained gasp from my mouth as I struggled to restrain him. “Yes,” I replied quickly. “What’s it to you?” 
“You were married to him?” the man asked. 
“Would you like me to procure a marriage certificate?” I snapped. “Who are you?” 
“Take off your captive’s hood,” the man told me. “I’m sure he would be happy to explain.” 
I scrunched my nose in frustration, and I huffed, “A name. Now.” 
“Yahya,” the man answered. “Little John.” 
“Nothing little ‘bout you, mate,” I chuckled lifelessly. “And yours?” I cocked my head to look at The Hood, and I noticed that his hands were up and fingers splayed. He was showing me that he had no weapons. “English, is that what he called you? Or do you prefer The Hood?” 
“Take it off,” Little John told me. “Quickly, my lady.” 
I stared at Little John for a moment more, then I removed my weapon-free arm from around The Hood’s waist. I tugged his hood backwards and off, and came across the cloth he covered his face with. I worked to unwind it with one hand, and my heart stopped when it passed my face. The smell. I could never forget it. I didn’t have to see his face or hear his voice to know. The smell of him was enough to force tears to fall. My Robin. 
I was frozen as Robin took off the rest of his disguise, and he turned to me with wetness in his eyes. My mouth was open in shock as I tried to process what I was seeing; my Robin was no child of nineteen anymore. He was freshly twenty-three now, a seasoned veteran of the Crusades, his whole body firm and built in a way that my little Robin never could have dreamed of. I felt sick. My knife fell from my hands and to our feet with a metallic racket, and I closed my mouth. “Robin,” I choked out. 
Robin took a step towards me, and I took a step backwards. No. It couldn’t be. “No,” I whispered. “No! Y-You’re dead--” 
“My love,” Robin said, and I drew in a wrecked sob. His voice was lower as well. He was so different from the boy who had left me, but I knew that he was the same on the inside. “Who told you that?” There was hurt in his green eyes, and I couldn’t control myself anymore. I carefully approached him and put my hand on his cheek, and the warmth of his skin finally convinced me. My Robin was home. 
“Where have you been?” I asked shakily. “W-What happened to you?” 
“I was there this whole time,” Robin told me, his eyebrows furrowing. There was a small scar at the arch of his left eyebrow that left a small bald patch. “Have you not gotten my letters? I wrote to you every day.” 
I shook my head quickly. “No,” I told him. “I never received any letters.” 
“What happened to this place?” Robin asked. “Where’s my mother?” 
My heart fell into my stomach. He didn’t know. “Robin,” I whispered. “Your mother and father passed away several years ago. It’s been empty since.” 
Robin’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head in disbelief. “No,” he said. “I would have been told, even though… It’s true?” 
“Robin, I’m so sorry,” I murmured. 
Robin’s arms went tightly around me, and he unleashed sobs into my neck. The sound of his crying hurt my chest, and I followed him as he sank down to the floor. My poor Robin had been through so much. He still had a lot to learn, though. 
Robin pulled himself from my neck, and I wiped his cheeks with the corner of my sleeve. “Why did you wear that veil?” he asked. “I thought only married women…” 
“Robin,” I started, wincing. He would be hurt, no matter the way I phrased it. “I didn’t want to. I truly, truly did not want to get married. I was happy to keep my promise to you, but… My father arranged a marriage for me, and I had no choice. I said no, but we were married just the same.” 
Robin was quiet, and he hastily took my hand and examined it. My rings were on my hand, no sight or even tan line from his, and he stared at my hand, chewing on his bottom lip. “You promised me--” 
“I know what I promised you, Robin,” I sniffled. “I know. I tried to contest it at every turn, but it still happened. If it is any consolation, I do not love him. I’m not sure he loves me either.” 
“Do you love me still?” Robin asked gently. 
“Of course I do, you absolute toff,” I whispered. “You have no idea how long I’ve mourned you. I waited for you every day. Even after getting married, I still waited for you.” 
“Would you leave him?” Robin asked. 
“You know I can’t do that,” I whispered as I gently pushed his tawny hair aside. “A woman of my standing, leaving her husband… It doesn’t happen.” 
“You called me--” Robin started but stopped in his tracks. “You called me The Hood.” 
I nodded. “Everybody in Nottingham knows you,” I told him. “You actually stole quite a bit from my husband. Honestly, he deserves it.” I managed a small smile, but Robin’s discomfort continued. 
“No, no,” he said. “I only steal from the rich.” 
“Robin,” I began. “I am the rich. Even if I was not born to the family I am, I married into a wealthy family. Formerly wealthy, that is.” 
“Who?” Robin asked firmly. “Who took you from me?” 
I sighed. “Rob- -“ 
“No!” He cried and stood up. “Who makes you wear that veil? Who did I steal from? Who took you from me?” 
My eyes flickered from Robin’s face to the floor, where his bow and arrows lay forgotten. “Sir Robert of Rainault,” I answered. “The Sheriff.” 
Robin looked at me, watching me, looking for a sign that I was joking. When it was obvious that I was serious, though, he let out a heavy breath. “You’re married to that man,” he began carefully. “Does he hurt you?” 
“Define ‘hurt’,” I mumbled. 
“Y/N!” Robin shouted. “You know what I mean! Does he hit you?” 
“Yes,” I hissed. “He does! What do you want me to say to you, Robin?”
“I want you to say my name,” Robin said. “You used to call me Rob.” 
“I did,” I acquiesced. “I used to. But that was four years ago. We were different people then, Robin. We-we were children. I’m not seventeen anymore, and you’re not nineteen! Robin, we can’t pick up where we left off because that was worlds ago. I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything. I wish I could. I wish I could find a way to annul my marriage and be with you, but that’s…” I groaned. “That’s impossible. I love you, but there’s nothing we can do about that.” 
“English,” John said, and Robin turned to him. As he turned, I noticed a large, raised scar on the back of his neck, and I bit my cheek. He had been through so much. “We have things to do.” 
“I’m sorry, John, but I’m busy,” Robin sighed, gesturing to me. “Reuniting with my wife? This is important. You can wait.”
“Can they, though?” John asked, tossing his hand out in frustration. “Living off of their last cents, they need our help.” 
“Who?” I asked. 
“The lower classes,” John told me. “That is why English does what he does.”
“What?” I said. “Steal from the rich to give to the poor? Is that what you call honorable?” 
“Don’t you even gripe about honor,” Robin laughed ruefully, turning back to me. “You get no say.”
“Why?” I asked. “Because I was forced into marriage?” 
“Because you didn’t keep your word,” Robin said. “You swore to it, Y/N! You swore to wait for me!”
“Get it through that thick skull!” I cried. “I did not want to! I was forced! Does that mean anything to you? I was either supposed to get married or go live as a nun! You know me, I would never survive in a nunnery! It was the only thing I could do! I don’t know how to make you understand, but I didn’t want to, and there’s no way for me to get out of it! Robin, I…” I took a deep breath and clenched my hands into tight fists to calm myself down, and I softly said, “I love you. I always have and I always will, but there is literally nothing that either of us can do. I am trapped.” 
Robin watched me cool down from my outburst, and he carefully approached me. His blue face cloth was still in his hand, and he gently wiped my wet cheeks with the corner. “You always cry when you get frustrated,” he whispered. “You have always done that, ever since you were small. My love, I am so sorry.”
I sniffled. “I tried to wait for you,” I told him. “I tried as hard as I could, but… You never came home. I was told that you died and there was no point in waiting for you, but I did. I never stopped waiting. Never.”
Robin carefully raised his mossy green eyes to mine. “I never thought I’d see this place again,” he admitted gently. “I never thought I’d see you again.” 
“Well,” I said, my eyes watering. “Here we are.” 
166 notes · View notes
hstyleshoney · 4 years
Text
flawed - h.s
Tumblr media
AU she has a new roommate and he’s not the worst 
Wordcount: 13K // slow-burn fluff with a small hint of angst and mutual-ish pining I suppose, strong language, alcohol use, sexual content
AN: This is my little College/Uni AU piece for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration writing fest! And I got carried away. I’ve had the start of this in my drafts for like two years and this challenge kind of just got me motivated to finish it. I’m really happy with some parts of it and some I’m not so sure about...I hate endings... BUT I had really fun writing it and that is all that matters and hopefully someone will enjoy it. I’m just happy I managed to finish it after such a long time. I’d also really really appreciate some feedback on it so please share your thoughts! I don’t have too much experience writing like this so be nice pls haha. ENJOY! <3 
Tumblr media
“Harry, you left your dirty dishes by the sink...  AGAIN!  Dunno how many times I have to remind you to clean up after yourself Put it away. Thx. :)”
Y/N took a deep breath to calm herself down and re-read the pink post-it note infront of her. He was going to be the death of her. He really was. Harry was in every other way the perfect roommate, well perfect was perhaps a bit excessive but he wasn’t the worst, except for the fact that he never took care of his stupid dirty dishes. It drove her mad. It took all her willpower to not smash his stupid little kermit the frog teacup into tiny little pieces whenever she saw it.
And yes, maybe it was irrational of her to get so worked up over a few dirty cups when everything else was going so well. But Y/N liked it when things were in order.
In the past two months that she had lived with Harry she had lost count of how many times she had asked him to wash up his used pans, plates and cups. The first time it happened she didn’t really mind. The second time -- also fine. But the third? That was when she started to get a little bit bothered. Because not only was it his dirty dishes from the same day. No. The plate and cup from the day before were still there on the counter as well. That was the first time she asked him to clean up after himself.
It was still fine though.
Y/N just told herself it was because Harry had previously lived in a student accommodation with a bunch of unruly boys and wasn’t used to picking up after himself. It was fine. He’d soon get it.
Only, he didn’t seem to get it.
Because weeks later she still had to remind him to wash up after he was done in the kitchen. It was like what she said to him went in one ear and out the other. It took her another week before she started suspecting he was leaving it out on purpose to irritate her, which well, it worked. It only annoyed her further.
The amount of tea that boy drank was truly worrying. She had been told she drank a lot of tea, but she seemed to have met her match in Harry. At least judging by all the cups he left around the flat. They were everywhere. Literally. She had even found one under the bathroom sink just a couple days ago and she didn’t even bother asking him how it got there. She had simply just left him a post-it note asking him to put it away.
Because she was certainly not going to go around and pick up after him. He was a grown boy and therefore capable of cleaning up after himself. She wasn’t his mother.
It was basic housekeeping.
She ripped the little pink post-it note off the pad and stuck it up on Harry’s bedroom door so he couldn’t possibly miss it. She stared at it for another minute, pleased with herself, before getting her backpack and left to go to her lecture. It was her own way of telling him off; leaving post-it notes for him. A more passive-aggressive approach had always been her preferred strategy, it made her feel slightly less annoying, and anytime she had left him a note in the morning the dirty dishes had magically disappeared when she came home later.
So there was no reason for her to stop leaving them for him.
--
Apart from that Harry really was the best roommate she could’ve asked for. The best one in the short amount of time she had had to find a new one anyways. Lexi, her very good friend from home and roommate before Harry, had decided to drop out of uni a week before courses were due to start again after summer; leaving her alone with a flat she couldn’t afford on her own. Y/N couldn’t be mad at her though because she knew how unhappy Lexi was in Manchester. She wasn’t enjoying her course and she missed her family. Y/N couldn’t force Lexi to stay just because she didn’t want to find a new roommate. She wasn’t that selfish.
It just wasn’t ideal. Everyone she knew already had a place to live and she was feeling pretty defeated about the whole thing. She liked her flat and didn’t want to give it up. Her parents offered to help her pay rent until she could find someone to live with again but she didn’t want to take her parents money. It didn’t feel right. So when her friend Lucy mentioned that her boyfriend Nate had a friend who needed a place to live she offered the mysterious man Lexi’s old room without a second thought.
Then Harry showed up outside her door two days later with a large suitcase and a couple of moving boxes.
They didn’t really talk all that much their first week of living together. He mostly kept to himself, trying to get settled in and get used to being back at uni after a long summer. All she knew about him at that point was that he was the same age as her and that he was studying music. Something she probably would’ve figured out sooner or later on her own, because every evening she could hear him play his guitar from inside his bedroom. She couldn’t complain though. It was quite soothing actually, and she wanted to tell him that.
But she also didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable knowing she laid awake listening to him play and then stop because he didn’t want her to eavesdrop.
So Y/N never said anything.
Their second week of living together was when she picked up on his annoying habit of leaving the kitchen a mess. It was also that week he offered to make her a cup of tea for the first time and she would never admit it outloud but it was probably the best cup of tea she had ever had.
But since he left his own cups all around the flat she also refused to tell him that.
By the third week they started having dinner together and asked each other about their days. They were slowly getting to know one another and Y/N realised for the first time that she did in fact enjoy Harry’s company. That Sunday they spent the entire evening binge watching the first season of a scandinavian crime drama on netflix and shared a tub of ice cream.  
Then they were suddenly in the same group of friends.
Because with Lexi gone Y/N started hanging out with Lucy more and Lucy was dating Nate and Harry was always hanging out with Nate. Which all just led to Tara, Declan and Connor always being around as well. Their flat had, since Harry moved in, turned into the hotspot for the gang to hang out at. She didn’t mind much, because she liked them and she had never really been a part of a group like them before. It was nice. Lexi moving had in a weird way been a blessing in disguise.
So there really wasn’t anything else to complain about when it came to Harry as a roommate.
Well, maybe one more thing.
And she usually met that reason every Sunday morning in their kitchen after a night out.
That Sunday however took a different turn than what she had gotten used to.
“You told me you didn’t have a girlfriend!”
“Harry,“ Y/N said slowly and narrowed her eyes at him. The girl next to them, whose hair was dyed a rich red color, was only clad in one of Harry’s old band t-shirts and stared at the two of them with frantic eyes.
“Y/N, babe, I’m so sorry,” Harry said and stared at Y/N pleadingly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on!?” The red-haired girl demanded and crossed her arms over her chest and Y/N could’ve sworn she did a little stomp. “You told me last night that you were single!”
“Yes Harry, I’d love an explanation,” Y/N said and mimicked the redhead by crossing  her arms over her chest. She probably would’ve laughed if the situation had been any different because the stranger in the kitchen was glaring at Harry with such a hatred in her eyes and Y/N had never seen a girl look at him that way before. 
And it was still funny, but it would’ve been funnier if she wasn’t a part of it. Harry on the other hand only ignored the angry girl and kept the lie going, focusing on his roommate.
“Love, I’m so fucking sorry. It didn’t mean anything! I swear, I was drunk and-”
“Ugh, oh my god,” the redhead cried out, interrupting him. She was fuming and her face was as red as her hair. Before Y/N had the chance to say anything else, to resolve the situation, the redhead stepped forward and slapped Harry across the face. “You’re such a fucking asshole!”
Then she turned around and Y/N’s first instinct was to take a step back because that was how intimidating she looked with her red wild hair and red cheeks. But Y/N, very unexpectedly, found herself being embraced in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so sorry! I swear I had no idea. He told me he didn’t have a girlfriend. You deserve so much better! Leave him.”
And just like that the girl was gone, marching back to Harry’s room to get changed into her own clothes again, and left the two of them alone in the kitchen. Y/N at loss for words and Harry rubbing the side of his face.
It didn’t take very long before the sound of the front door being slammed shut echoed through the flat and made the walls around them shake.
“You’re disgusting,” Y/N muttered then and walked past him to put the kettle on. She had a headache from all the wine she had consumed the previous night and whatever it was that had just happened hadn’t exactly helped her feel any better. She had only wanted a nice cup of tea, and maybe some toast. She had definitely not been prepared, nor expected, to be part of a terrible made-up triangle drama. Not this early.
“Aw, c’mon,” Harry laughed and finally let his face break out into a grin. “I’ve tried to get her to go home all morning but she wouldn’t take any hints. I had no choice.”
Y/N turned her head to glare at him and pointed a warning finger in his direction
“If you bring a girl back you get rid of her yourself. I want no part in your disgusting shenanigans,” she told him. “You deserved that slap.”
“I didn’t even say anything to her,” Harry said and hopped up to take a seat on the counter. “She just assumed.”
“Why would she even assume that?” Y/N asked and eyed him suspiciously “If I was your girlfriend I wouldn’t randomly appear in the kitchen the next morning in my pyjamas. You must’ve told her something.”
“I didn’t,” Harry denied and put his hands up, still grinning. She rolled her eyes. “I swear! She just assumed.”
“Yeah well, you shouldn’t have let her,” she told him and took out two slices of bread to put in the toaster. “Besides, do you have to bring a girl back every weekend?”
“Do you have to go on like five dates a week?”
“I don’t,” she glared at him again. Harry raised his eyebrows at her knowingly and she looked away from him as the next few words left her lips. “It was only three this week.”
“Oh right,” Harry laughed. “Excuse me.”
“Shut up.”
“At least I’m getting something good out of it,” he continued to laugh. “I still don’t understand why you have to go on so many dates all the time. What do you get out of it?”
“I wanna find love,” she shrugged. “Is that so bad?”
“No, not at all,” Harry told her. “But dating douchebags ain’t gonna bring you love.”
“Yeah because sleeping with someone new every weekend is so much better,” she replied sarcastically and watched as Harry slid down from the counter when the kettle made a small noise to let them know it was ready.
“Like I said,” he started with a smirk and took down two tea cups from the cupboard. “At least I get something good out of it. You should try.”
She rolled her eyes again but didn’t say anything else as her toast popped up from the toaster. Her dating life was a running joke among her friends and she had learned to ignore the comments they made. She wanted to find love, so she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it. Some may say she was a bit desperate, and maybe she was, but it wasn’t her fault every guy she met was wrong for her. They were all either too clingy or too uncommitted.
Or maybe she was just a bit too picky.
Either way, she did go on a lot of dates when her schedule allowed her to. She wanted what everyone else around her seemed to have. Her parents acted more in love with each other every time she saw them, even after 30 years of marriage. One of her sisters had just gotten engaged to her long-term boyfriend and her oldest sister had been married for three years already and was expecting her second child. Her younger cousin got married that summer. Any time Y/N traveled back home all her relatives asked her when she was going to find herself a nice young man. It was exhausting. Y/N was stressed. Pressured. So she dated a lot. There was nothing wrong with that, yet people liked to mock her for it, especially Harry since he was the one who she came back home to after a bad date.
He’d usually burst into her room after a date, wanting all the details only so he could laugh about everything that had gone wrong. But then he also always made her a cup of tea and got her some biscuits.
He wasn’t the worst.
“Hey,” Harry said and held out the tea he had made for her. “You wanna watch an episode of The Bridge?”
Y/N stared at him for a second and for the first time ever her heart skipped a beat. It was no secret that Harry was unbelievably attractive, the kind of attractiveness that terrified you before you got to know him. If he hadn’t showed up outside her door she never would’ve had the guts to talk to him. After getting to know him though he was just Harry; her roommate.
But there was something about him right there and then, dressed casually in sweats and a plain t-shirt as he handed her a cup of tea in their kitchen, that just got to her. She quickly snapped herself out of her thoughts to stop her mind from wandering too far and took the tea from him. Must be the hangover.
“Sure, but only one episode,” she replied and picked up her plate of toast as well. “I have to read some shit for my seminar tomorrow and I can’t keep procrastinating.”
--
They ended up watching more than just one episode.
And Y/N never got around to reading the chapter she needed to read. She only skimmed through it on her way to her seminar, which is why she made a fool out of herself when the lecturer pointed straight at her and asked her to share her thoughts. She wanted to disappear.
And her day didn’t get any better when she stepped in dog shit on her way home.
And it certainly didn’t get any better when she accidentally knocked over her cup of tea and spilled it all over the rug. So instead of getting to lie on the couch and feel sorry for herself, like she had planned, she had to try and save the white rug from getting a stain. It wasn’t a great day.
It was also at that moment Harry came back home; when she was sitting on the floor, scrubbing the rug furiously and muttering profanities under her breath.
“You know,” Harry began to make his presence known. “There’s something about what you're doing right now that’s really turning me on.”  
Y/N stopped her scrubbing and looked up at him, not impressed by his joke or by the stupid smirk on his face.
“Oh fuck off,” she swore and simply raised her hand and her middle finger at him. “Or make yourself useful and get some baking soda or something.”
“Bad day?” he asked while putting his guitar case down. She only glared at him.
“What do you think?”
“I’ll just get the baking soda.”
“Good choice.”
They cleaned the rug together and after a good half an hour of scrubbing and googling the best tricks to remove tea stains they managed to save it from getting ruined. Y/N slumped down on the couch again, exhausted and defeated, and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down.
What a shit day.
Harry made her a new cup and put away everything they had used to get rid of the spilled one before joining her on the small couch.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked and squeezed his brows together, uncertain how to approach her.  
“I just had a shit day,” she sighed deeply. “Completely fucked up my seminar.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Ha!” Y/N scoffed. “No, I did. But it was my own fault though, so I can't really cry about it.”
“Well,” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Can I do anything to make you feel better? We could get some pizza and watch a movie or something?”
“I can’t,” she grumbled. “I have an assignment I have to finish by Wednesday and considering how shit I did today I have to focus. I can’t fuck this up too.”
“You have to eat something though.”
“Yeah, I will. I’ll just heat up some of that leftover pasta later or something,” she assured him and maybe if she hadn’t been so frustrated with herself she wouldn’t have confused the way her heart was racing inside her chest with stress; when in reality it was beating extra for the green eyed boy next to her.
Y/N stayed in her room for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, reading and typing away. She wouldn’t say it was going well, but she didn't want to throw her computer out the window and she always appreciated those rare moments.
She could also hear Harry roaming around in the rest of the flat and later on the low strum of his guitar. She smiled to herself when she heard it and didn’t even realise she was humming along to the melody he was playing until he stopped.
And it wasn’t until her stomach growled loudly that she remembered she hadn’t actually had any dinner yet. She made sure to save her work, hitting ‘save’ an extra time because you could never save a document too many times, before closing her laptop and standing up. Her muscles ached from how long she had been in the same position and she winced a little as she stretched them out.
Then her stomach rumbled and she was once again reminded of how hungry she was. It was nearing 11 pm and she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was not good, and she kind of regretted not accepting Harry’s offer about getting pizza before.
But when she made it into the kitchen there was a pink post-it note on the fridge, only this time she wasn’t the one who put it there.
I got some pizza earlier, saved you a few slices in case you want some instead of that old pasta xx H :)
A warm feeling spread through her body as she read his little note, and she couldn’t help but notice that Harry had a surprisingly neat handwriting. It was cute. Both the handwriting and the message. It put a smile on her face.
While the pizza was being reheated she decided to go find Harry and thank him for the nice gesture. She was just about to knock on his door when she noticed that the TV was still on and she spotted him on the couch.
Asleep.
And it was probably cuter than both his handwriting and the message combined.
His whole body took up the small couch; his legs dangled over the armrest and he had his arms crossed over his chest to make himself smaller. There was a slight frown on his face, presumably from the dream he was having, but it was endearing in a way to still see him so relaxed. He had changed out of the blue jeans he had worn last time she saw him and had on his black shorts and the knitted jumper he always just wore around the flat. He looked comfortable. Homely.
A part of her wanted to run back to her room and get her phone so she could snap a picture of him before he woke up.
But an even bigger part of her stopped her from doing so because it felt inappropriate to take a picture of him sleeping. She wasn’t so sure Harry would appreciate her taking pictures of him without him knowing either. So she refrained.
Then, almost like he could feel her watching him sleep like a total creep, he slowly blinked his eyes open, and honestly... it was probably the cutest thing yet. She blushed as he caught her staring.
“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice low and rough, and rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. “What time is it?”
“Mm it’s about 11.”
“Shit, didn’t realise I fell asleep,” he grumbled and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Did you finish your assignment?”
“Almost,” she told him and smiled softly. “Thanks for the pizza.”
“No worries,” he said and matched her smile.
“Also, I’m sorry for being so cranky before. I was just a bit stressed.”
Harry shook his head.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “We’ve all been there.”
Y/N ended up joining him on the couch for a bit after the pizza was done. They didn’t talk much while she ate and Harry flicked through the channels on the TV, before he eventually decided on an old romcom. 
When Harry had first shown up outside the flat she had been nervous about living with him. She had only ever lived with girls before, but it had been easier to get along with him than she had first expected. Not that she had heard anything bad about him; Lucy had nothing but nice things to say when she first told her about Nate’s friend who needed a place to live.
She had just assumed it was going to be harder to live with a boy compared to a girl. But Harry made it easy, aside from the dirty dishes and the unknown women in her kitchen Sunday mornings of course, and he was slowly becoming one of her closest friends. While it was terrifying it also felt like the most natural thing. Like he was meant to be in her life.
Which is why she felt so stupid for what happened next.
“They make love seem so easy in these romcoms,” Y/N complained with a huff. “Why don’t I have a gorgeous guy pining after me? I just want someone to have a secret crush on me and then make a big grand gesture. Is that too much to ask?”
“How do you know you don’t?” Harry questioned and she snorted.
“I highly doubt it. Who would that be?”
Harry shrugged.
“Who knows,” he said. “It’s kinda the point of having someone secretly crushing on you, innit?”
“Oh whatever,” she grumbled and Harry laughed. “You have no say in this. I see the way girls stare at you whenever we go out. You probably have a handful of secret admirers. ”
“Are you forgetting the fact that you go on more dates than the rest of us combined?” Harry pointed out and raised his brows at her. “You probably have more admirers than anyone else I know.”
“Not true.”
“So true,” Harry insisted. “You need to stop trying so hard and maybe just let love find you instead.”
“That’s probably the most cliche thing someone has ever told me,” she said and rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to do then? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs and wait for someone to come knocking on our door and say they love me?”
“No, not at all,” Harry frowned. “I just think that maybe you need to open your eyes and take a step back. Lower your expectations and don’t be so picky. You’re not going to find Prince charming. No one is flawless.”
“You know what? It’s too late to be having this conversation,” she told him and stood up. There was something about what he just said that made her heart sink a little inside her chest. “I’m going to bed.”
“Hey, you okay?” Harry said and caught her wrist to stop her from leaving. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“It’s okay,” she said and swallowed thickly. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” His hand was hot on her skin and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his long fingers and how he traced his thumb across her wrist in small circles. 
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise.”
He really didn’t. Y/N wasn’t sure why she had suddenly gotten so upset; why she took what he said to heart. It made her feel like a brat almost. She was used to people making fun of her dating life but she didn’t like this. 
She didn’t want people to think she was shallow or impossible to please. Especially not Harry.  
Because that wasn’t the case. There were plenty of good guys out there and she was far from perfect herself. She had a lot of flaws. Y/N had just never clicked with anyone in the way she wanted to and she wasn’t going to get into a relationship with someone she didn’t feel she connected with one hundred percent.
“Okay,” Harry said with a heavy sigh and let go of her wrist. “Goodnight then.”
“Night.”
Harry still had a frown on his face as he watched her take her plate back into the kitchen and Y/N could feel her pulse racing as she felt his eyes on her. It was awkward and she was embarrassed for how she had just handled everything. It wasn’t even a big deal. He hadn’t said anything she hadn’t thought of herself before. Harry was just giving her advice. 
So why did she feel so upset? 
It was the first time she had ever gotten even the tiniest bit self-conscious about the amount of dates she went on, and as she crawled into bed she couldn’t help but wonder if she felt like this because it was Harry.
It was also the first time she realised she cared a lot about what he thought of her.
She wanted Harry to like her.
--
Y/N got her period a day later and just like that everything she had felt on Monday made so much sense. Of course. Luckily everything was completely fine between her and Harry the morning after she left him on the couch and they even baked some brownies Tuesday evening because Y/N was craving chocolate, which also made sense when she woke up with stains in her underwear and cramps in her lower region on Wednesday.
Despite that though she had quite a good day. She managed to finish her assignment in time and she didn’t hate it; she was maybe even a little bit pleased with it. She bought herself a new pair of sneakers that were on sale and an eyeshadow palette she had been wanting for a while. Her and Harry got chinese food for dinner before meeting the rest of the gang down at the pub.
Wednesdays meant quiz night and Y/N teamed up with Tara and together they managed to win first prize which gave them £50 to spend at the bar.
Y/N blamed the alcohol for everything that happened after that.  
She tripped on her way over to the toilets. She accidentally managed to somehow elbow Connor in the face. She also spilled half a pint of beer all over herself, leaving a huge wet stain on her trousers so it looked like she pissed herself.
But she was still in good spirits.
Until she spotted Harry at the bar with a tall gorgeous girl. Their faces were close and even from the booth she was sitting in she could see his dimples. It left a sour taste in her mouth watching the pair talk and it annoyed her how easily Harry once again had a girl swooning over him. Why was he even off flirting with some random girl when they were all supposed to be there together? And why was he so good at it? And why did he look so good doing it?
Y/N rolled her eyes when the girl giggled and reached out to touch his bicep. Disgusting.
“Hello?” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of Y/N’s face. “You still with us?”
“What?” She tore her eyes away from the scene that was taking place at the bar and turned her attention back to her two friends. “Yeah, of course.” She faked a laugh and took a long sip from her beer. Lucy and Tara shared a look, but they didn’t say anything else about it which she was thankful for.
Mostly because she had no idea how to explain any of it. She glanced over at Harry and the girl again and tried to understand why her chest suddenly felt so tight. It must be the alcohol.
And oh, right, of course, she had her period.
It was her hormones; the only logical explanation.
Satisfied with the answer to her own confusion she threw herself back into the conversation around the table, ignoring the fact that she could still see Harry and the girl in the corner of her eye.  
Then Declan showed up at their table with a round of vodka shots for everyone because he knew the bartender and got them for free.
Who was she to say no to free shots?
But she really should’ve.
The strong liquid didn’t sit right with her and instead of giving her a bigger buzz her head felt heavy and her ears were ringing. She also felt a little bit sick; the chinese food she had had with Harry slowly rising in the back of her throat. Taking shots had never really ended well for her but drunk Y/N still always seemed to think it was a fantastic idea.
It was a good thing she didn’t have a lecture or anything the next day, because her hangover was not going to be pretty.
And Y/N didn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone before she unexpectedly jumped out of her seat, got her coat and stumbled outside. She needed fresh air and she couldn’t wait.
The second she stepped outside into the cold autumn night she instantly felt better. The nausea from the stuffy pub atmosphere disappeared and she sat down on the curb next to the road and took a few deep breaths. 
“Hey there Quiz-Queen, you alright?”
Harry.
She glanced up at him and even though he had called her by the nickname she had jokingly given herself after winning first-prize he was looking down at her with concerned eyes. Her purse hung from his shoulder, she hadn’t even realised she had left it behind, and he had his own long and vibrant plaid coat wrapped around himself; protecting him from the cold.
“Yeah,” she said and took another deep breath. “I just needed some air.”
“Hm,” Harry hummed, relieved she was okay. “Maybe next time let the rest of us know where you’re going and don’t just get up and leave.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Not at all,” Harry assured and shook his head. “Just want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t think that £50 bar tab was the best thing for a lightweight like you.”
“Oiii,” she pouted. “That’s mean. You’re just jealous you didn’t win. How many right answers did you guys get again? 6 out of 20?”
“It’s not about winning, it’s about having fun,” Harry said with a smug smile and a twinkle in his eyes that he only ever got when he thought he was being clever. “And I had fun.”  
“Oh give it a rest,” she scoffed but there was still a smile on her face. “You love to win, don’t stand there and pretend to be a good loser when I know how competitive you can get.”  
Harry laughed and she felt butterflies come alive inside her stomach as she watched his dimples appear. This time for her and not for some stupid girl at the bar.  
“C’mon Silly-girl, let’s get you home,” he said, ignoring her comment about him being a sore loser, and offered his hand to help her up. His fingers were strong around hers and her skin was tingling as she watched her own hand disappear in his.
Once back up on her feet she had to hold onto Harry for a second to stop her head from spinning so much. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol anymore or her hormones... or if it was merely just because of Harry.
It was just easier to blame the alcohol or her period, so that’s what she did.
Harry had an arm around her to support her swaying body as they made their way over to the bus stop, holding her close to him. He smelled like beer and the shampoo she always secretly sniffed when she took a shower. It was something she would never admit out loud, or sober, but she loved the smell of it.
Sometimes she had considered using it on her own hair, it was just so fresh and relaxing, so Harry, but it was also one of those things she wasn’t so sure he would appreciate her doing. 
“We should’ve stopped to get some food,” she muttered and slumped back against her seat on the bus. “I’m starving and I’m craving something salty.”
“I can make us something when we get home,” Harry offered.
“Really?” Y/N perked up. ”Could you?”
“Yeah, I’m a bit hungry as well.”
“Oh my gosh, have I ever told you you’re the best roommate?”
“Pretty sure you haven’t,” Harry laughed. "I do, however, have a lot of post-it notes that one could argue suggest the opposite."
“I saw you talking to a girl earlier. She was very pretty.” It slipped out before Y/N had the chance to think twice about it. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me now and didn’t get to go home with her.”
Harry didn’t laugh at that but he still had the same twinkle in his eyes as before and a fond smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said and suddenly his hand was on her knee and he gave it a gentle squeeze; causing her hormones to act up again so her heart skipped a beat. “You’re not the worst person to be stuck with.”
--
As expected her hangover wasn’t pretty the next day.
She woke up with a raging headache and an upset stomach. After Harry had made them both some food she had been too tired to go wash her make-up off so the girl staring back at her in the bathroom mirror had black mascara smudges all around her eyes and golden glitter eyeshadow smeared across her bloated face. It was a tragedy. She was a tragedy.
However, the thing that made her hangover feel even worse was when she walked into the kitchen and saw the all dirty pans and plates from her and Harry’s late night meal. Pangs of guilt instantly swept through her. Harry was already gone by the time she woke up. He had an early seminar, which she knew he did because he had told her before they met up with the others at the pub, and she felt terrible that she had kept him up half the night only to make her food. He couldn’t have gotten more than two hours of sleep and it filled her up with guilt.
So much guilt she didn’t leave him a post-it note telling him the kitchen was a mess, because that would’ve just been super fucking rude since it was her fault he was even in the kitchen cocking at 3 am in the first place. Instead she washed up and decided to go out and get his favorite snacks as a thank you, and also because she was craving more chocolate and a fizzy drink.
Being hungover while having your period was really not the best combination.
Y/N hid her tousled hair under a beanie and put on a quick layer of foundation in an attempt to cover up her blotchy skin. It didn’t really help her feel much better about her appearance so she decided to put on a scarf as well to disguise herself as much as possible, just in case she’d run into someone she knew on her way to the store. She didn’t want to be recognised. Not today.
But of course Y/N wasn’t that lucky.
She ran into three people from her course, who all stopped her and chit-chatted to her about their seminars and latest assignment, all while she stood there with a basket full of various brands of crisps, drinks and candy feeling and looking like an absolute troll.
And that wasn’t even the worst.
No.
Because naturally it was also the day she bumped into someone, quite literally, in the stairs on her way back up to the flat.
Y/N yelped and accidentally dropped her bag of snacks as she tried to find her balance. A pair of hands caught her by the shoulders before she fell backwards and when she looked up to see who she had crashed into her whole face turned red.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she apologized with wide eyes, her heart beating fast inside her chest.
“No worries,” the man in front of her said and removed his hands from her shoulders, but she kind of wished he hadn’t because his voice was so deep and smoky her knees weakened as he spoke.
Not to mention he had the most stunning pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were a deep, earthy brown color with perfectly long eyelashes she could only ever dream of. He was utterly breathtaking with his long dark hair, scruffy stubble and nose piercing, that she usually didn’t really like on boys but the stranger in front of her made it work. Oh how he made it work.
And as he leaned down to pick up her bag for her she caught a whiff of his fragrance and her knees were seconds away from giving up all together.
“Thank you,” she managed to croak out as he handed her the bag full of snacks and prayed he hadn’t seen what was in it. She looked pathetic enough as it was and she racked her brain for something else to say but there was nothing. Y/N was left completely gobsmacked by the breathtaking man she had just crashed into. Her cheeks only getting hotter and hotter for every second she stood there like a total idiot just staring at him in awe. “I’m Y/N.”
Y/N wanted nothing more than to just sink through the floor in embarrassment. The stranger, thankfully, reached out and shook her extended hand with an amused smile on his lips.
“Luke.”
Luke let his eyes wander up and down her body, taking in her attire, and she had never felt so unattractive as she did in that moment. Why didn’t she at least take a shower before going out? Fuck.
“Right,” she nodded and reached up to adjust her beanie a little, as if it was going to make her look any better. “So eh... do you live here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
What was she doing?
“I do,” Luke confirmed. “I moved in a couple days ago.”
“Awesome.”
Awesome? Fucking idiot. 
She was definitely losing her mind. While she did go on a lot of dates she had not been blessed with the ability to make small talk. 
“I’m guessing you live here as well?” Luke asked and ran a hand through his hair to push back a couple of strands from his face. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.
“Yeah,” Y/N confirmed, her mouth dry, and she licked her lips nervously. “I’m on the top floor... aaand I should really get going. My roommate is waiting for me.”
“Of course.”
“It was nice to meet you though. Welcome to the building.” Her heart was still racing. “Again, I’m sorry for crashing into you.”
“Like I said, don’t worry about it. It was good to meet you too,” Luke told her and gave her a small wink. “See you around.”
And Y/N didn’t know how it happened but a strange cackle escaped her lips as he winked at her and she ran off before she could witness his reaction to it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself all the way up to her and Harry’s flat.
Once she got inside she fell back against the door and tried to catch her breath, from both practically running up five flights of stairs and the encounter she had just had with probably the hottest man alive.
She really was pathetic.
After she got herself together she shrugged off her coat and pulled off her stupid beanie, cursing herself yet again for not taking a shower before going to the store. She could at least have put on a cute outfit. But no. She went out looking like a slob.  
And as she sauntered into the flat she realised that Harry was home again, and with him were Nate, Lucy and Connor as well. 
“Well if it isn’t the Quiz-Queen herself,” Nate teased when he saw her and bowed his head mockingly from where he was sitting on the couch. “Glad to see that you’re still alive after last night.”
“We have a new neighbour,” Y/N informed them, ignoring Nate and his teasing comments, because the new neighbour was the only thing on her mind. “I crashed into him on my way up. Literally. I made a complete fool out of myself.”
“Nothing new then,” Connor joked.
“Ha-ha,” Y/N said dryly. “For real though, he was the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He was unreal.”
“Really?” It got Lucy’s attention and she perked up from where she was sitting on the couch with Nate. “What did he look like?”
“Like a damn model right off the runway,” Y/N groaned and collapsed in one of the armchairs. “I’m telling you, he was unreal. Eyelashes that went on forever. Tall. Cheekbones that could cut glass and his hair was soooooo shiny. He didn’t have a single flaw. He even made a nose piercing look good and you know how I feel about those.”
“Aw, I wanna see him too,” Lucy pouted. “Did you get his name?”
“Luke.”
“So our serial dater has another date then I’m assuming,” Connor sniggered.
“I wish,” Y/N replied with a sigh. “I could hardly get a word out. I just stood there and stared at him like a creep.”
“You could always go over and ask to borrow a cup of sugar,” Nate suggested and wiggled his eyebrows. “And then just suck him off to return the favor.”
“You’re an idiot,” Y/N said and raised her middle finger towards him. It also earned him a slap on the arm from Lucy as she scolded her boyfriend. Connor laughed and made a comment about how it would be the perfect porn scene.
And it was also in that moment Y/N realised Harry hadn’t said anything since she had joined them. She glanced over at him where he sat in the armchair across from her and frowned. He looked tired and it caused the guilt in her to rise up again. In addition to that it troubled her that he wasn’t saying anything about the new neighbour or joining in on the jokes. He just sat in his seat and kept his eyes glued to the TV and the random show that was airing. “Harry?”
“What?”
There was something about how he spoke and how he turned to look at her that made her feel even worse. His voice was taut and low. His eyes burned right through her. It was far from the Harry she was used to. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but she also didn’t want to do so in front of the others if they hadn’t noticed it themselves.
“Um, I got some snacks if you want some,” Y/N said instead. She wasn’t sure if the others had noticed at all but she didn’t like it. Maybe he was angry with her for making him stay up so late? What if it had made him late for his seminar?
“Thank you,” he replied half-heartedly and turned his attention back to the TV without another word. Confusion filled the room and she met Lucy’s baffled expression for a split second. Okay they had noticed. Fuck. Y/N looked at Harry again and there was so much she wanted to ask him but at the same time she was at a loss for words. It wasn’t like him to be so tense. Not one bit.
She didn’t like it.
--
On Saturday they were all, once again, out getting drunk. After her hangover on Thursday Y/N had told herself she wasn’t going to drink again that week, but Harry was still being acting weird around her so she was easily persuaded.
Because she needed a drink.
Harry hadn’t really done anything, which was also part of the problem. She hadn’t seen him all Friday or Saturday, not until he turned up for pre-drinks at Connor’s flat. And once he was there he didn’t even look at her or talk to her. It bothered her. A lot. She hadn’t had the chance to ask him what was wrong and nothing was making sense. She tried to remember if she had said something inappropriate to him on Wednesday, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out why he was being off with her.
Which is why, after a couple of drinks, she took the first chance she got to confront him about it.
She spotted him alone at one of the tables inside the club they were at and marched right up, ignoring the people she accidentally bumped into on her way, and plopped herself down on the leather sofa next to him. The beer she was carrying spilled over in her hand as she did but she paid no attention to it and Harry looked at her with questioning eyes.
“What’s going on with you?” Y/N wasted no time. The music was loud around them and she had to lean into him to make sure he heard her, his curls tickled her upper lip from how close she was. Harry only shrugged.
“Nothing is going on.”
“Oh really? Could’ve fooled me,” she said, almost shouting because of the music, and rolled her eyes. “You’re acting strange.”
“Nothing is going on,” Harry repeated and pursed his lips, looking away from her. Y/N tilted her head forward, to force him to look at her again, and waved her hand in front of his face.
“Look at me then,” she cried out in frustration. “Stop ignoring me and tell me what’s going on!”
It wasn’t the best spot for them to be having a conversation. A couple of people from the tables around them looked over curiously and the dim lights and loud music of club made it harder than what she would’ve liked. She had originally planned to talk to him that morning but he had gone out before she even woke up and it was the last sign she needed to know that he was avoiding her. So talking to him at a busy club felt like the only option. 
She flinched back as Harry unexpectedly turned to face her, almost knocking his head into hers.
”You know for wanting to find love so badly you’re really fucking blind.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N frowned. Harry scoffed.
“You’re so oblivious,” he began. “If you just stopped being so desperate and so obsessed with finding the perfect guy for one damn second then maybe you’d-” Harry stopped himself and pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked down at the beer in his hands. 
“Then what Harry?” she demanded, and didn’t even bother to try calm the anger that was stirring inside her. Harry ignoring her made her feel worse than she ever could’ve imagined. Nothing could’ve prepared her for it. She hated it. “I wouldn’t be so unlovable?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Don’t,” Harry warned. “You know I would never say that. Don’t be daft.”  
“Do I?” she kept challenging him. The alcohol in her bloodstream gave her enough courage to not back down. Even if the loud music made it harder to hear what the other one was saying there was no way she was going to drop it. She needed to know what was going on. She couldn’t go another day with Harry ignoring her; she was too used to having him around for him to just cut her off.
“Yes, you do,” he spat.
“But you think I’m desperate?” she spat back and Y/N wasn’t sure why she was picking a fight with him in the middle of a full packed club, but she was.
Because at least he was talking to her.
“Yeah I do,” Harry admitted and licked his lips. She struggled to breathe a little after that. Her chest felt too tight. “Why are you so set on having the perfect relationship? No couple is perfect.”
“Lucy and Nate are,” she stated, not wanting her facade to falter in front of him. Her throat was dry but her eyes were burning with wet tears because she hated this. She hated it so much.
“No, they’re not,” Harry sneered loudly. “Both of them are far from fucking perfect. Nate is a menace and Lucy is a nutter.”
“Harry, don’t be a dick.”
“What? So just because they’re my friends I’m only allowed see the good in them? I still love both of them and they still love each other even if they’re not perfect,” he insisted. “You know they end up arguing like every night we go out, right? Over something stupid Nate said or some insane shit Lucy did. Do you know how many times Lucy has asked me for advice when it comes to Nate? They’re not perfect.”
“So I’m desperate because I want to find someone who is perfect for me?”
“What if you already have?”
“What?”
The music was still loud around them but suddenly the only thing she could hear was her own beating heart.
And suddenly she became aware of just how close the two of them actually were. Harry’s nose brushed against hers as his mouth carefully, barely, grazed her lips. His breath was hot on her face and oh wow, had his eyelashes always been that long?
Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but the way he was looking at her made her unable to move any part of her body. She was frozen; waiting for him to make the next move because she was far too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything herself. He was so close. Too close -- but at the same time not close enough. She wondered if he could hear her heart as well. 
“Oi, oi!”
Out of the blue Declan flopped down next to her on the sofa and just like that she was brought back into reality and away from Harry’s green eyes. Declan had two pints of beer with him and grinned at the two of them; clueless to what he had just interrupted. He didn’t come alone though, soon the rest of the gang had gathered around the small table. All so clueless.
Y/N watched as Harry drank what was left of his beer and glared at Declan and the rest while she tried to stop her head from spinning so much. What had just happened?
They were all talking around her but their voices got lost in the loud music and her own thoughts.
‘What if you already have?’ what was that even supposed to mean?
She wanted to turn and look at Harry again but she was too scared of what he might do or say and too scared that everyone else was going to notice something was wrong and ask them about it. Instead she just kept her eyes down to where her thigh was pressing into Harry’s after Declan had squeezed himself down beside them.
Thankfully no one else seemed to pick up on tension between the two of them but Y/N still regretted absolutely everything about her decision to talk to Harry. It hadn’t helped make anything clearer and she was now stuck next to him in a busy club with their drunk friends. Great.
To make things worse she then, out of nowhere, heard someone call her name and she nearly dropped her drink as she noticed who it belonged to. Well fuck.
“Luke.” 
His name fell from her lips as soon as she spotted him waving at her. He came up and stood behind Nate and Lucy, with his hands in his pockets and his hair slicked back perfectly. Lucy was quick to turn around to get a look at the guy Y/N had been raving about just a couple days ago. Then she looked at Y/N again with her jaw hanging open and gave her a look that confirmed Luke was indeed as flawless as he had been described. 
The tension was thick and awkward as Luke stood before her and her friends, more specifically Harry, and Y/N could feel him tense up beside her as he stared Luke down. She had no idea what to say or do. “This is our new neighbour I was telling you about,” was the only thing she could think of. The smirk on Luke’s face as he heard that she had been talking about him didn’t go unnoticed.
“Y’alright then?” Luke asked and nodded towards Y/N. She couldn’t breathe. How was he there? After everything that had just happened with Harry... where did Luke even come from? She hadn’t processed her conversation with Harry yet, how was she supposed to have a conversation with Luke again, in front of everyone, when her head was so scrambled?
“Yeah, I’m great.” What a fucking lie.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Oh.” What was happening? “Ummmm, I don’t - well I - ehm I-”
“Yes! She would love a drink!” Tara interrupted her with a big grin, and any other time she would’ve been grateful for her friend stepping in and helping, but now? “Wouldn’t you?” Y/N wasn’t even sure.
“I ehhh - well, I guess so?”
What?
Her whole body was screaming NO when she got up and felt Harry’s warmth leave her side. His eyes burned into her back and it was a miracle she even made it to the bar with Luke without vomiting right there and then.
Two days ago, when she first bumped into Luke, all she wanted was to go on a date with him. But something had changed. Something inside her had clicked, and it wasn’t her hormones or the alcohol this time. All she could think about as Luke talked to her and bought her a new drink was how he wasn’t Harry.
Luke didn’t know how she liked her tea. Luke didn’t know she couldn’t go straight to bed after watching a thriller or anything that resembled a scary movie; she needed to watch something more upbeat and cheerful before going to sleep. Luke didn’t know she liked to keep things in order. Luke didn’t know she ate her weight in chocolate when she got her period. Luke didn’t know she loved mint chocolate chip ice cream. Luke didn’t know she called her mum at least once a day. Luke didn’t know she was desperate to find love. 
Harry did.
Harry knew all those things.
And as she stood at the bar with Luke she realised he wasn’t actually flawless. He was still gorgeous, only a little less breathtaking that time around because he knew he looked good and he wasn’t humble about it. He smelled like cigarettes and she hated the smell of smoke mixed with his strong cologne. It gave her a headache. He also couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage and didn’t bother asking her anything about herself.
His nose piercing didn’t even look that good.
Luke wasn’t flawless and she didn’t really like him. 
Harry wasn’t flawless either... but she still liked him. 
“And that’s when we-”
“You know what Luke,” she interrupted and put a finger up to stop him from talking. “I think I have to get back to my friends. But um... “ She glanced at the drink he had bought her before picking it up and downed it in one go, because he had paid for it and the least she could do was drink it. The alcohol burned a little in the back of her throat and she accidentally spilled a few drops down her shirt. She hardly noticed though because she was just aching to get back to her friends. Luke looked at her with wide eyes and a puzzled expression. “Thanks for the drink! I’ll see you around.”
With that she walked off with just one thing, or rather someone, on her mind.
But that someone wasn’t there when she found her friends again. She spotted Lucy and her bright dress sitting on Nate’s lap. She spotted Tara having a conversation with a girl from the table next to them. She spotted Declan and Connor laughing loudly over something on their phones.
She did not spot Harry.
Tara was the first one to notice her standing there just staring at the empty seat where Harry was sat a while ago. Tara excused herself from the conversation she was having and came up to Y/N, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You okay?”
“Where is Harry?”
“He left,” Tara told her. “I think.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Lucy came up to her as well, with a small frown on her face, worried something had happened. “Is everything alright?”
“I need to talk to Harry,” Y/N said and looked around the club; hoping to spot his curls somewhere in the crowd. Her eyes stung with tears when she couldn’t see him.
“He left after you walked off,” Lucy confirmed softly. “Is everything alright? Did something happen with Luke?”
“Yes- I mean no. I have to go,” was all she told them before she rushed off. “I need Harry.”
Y/N wasn’t aware of the three words that left her mouth but it didn’t make them any less true. It all made so much sense. It had clicked. ‘What if you already have?’ 
Yes. 
How could she have been so blind?
--
When she finally made it home she was out of breath from running all the way from the bus stop to their flat. She prayed Harry had actually gone home and not continued his night at some other club. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he had. 
But as soon as she stepped inside she heard the familiar sound of his guitar coming from his bedroom and she didn’t even bother catching her breath before walking across the flat in a couple of strides. She hadn't really thought anything through. Her whole body was just screaming at her that she needed Harry and it couldn't wait. 
Harry left his dirty dishes out. He sometimes forgot to put the toilet seat down. He was disorganized. He did not only leave his dirty dishes out but he could also leave his dirty socks lying around the flat. He didn't like the same music as her. He could be petty and immature. He had ignored her for two days. 
But Harry also made her tea when she was having a bad day. He made her laugh. He made her food in middle of the night. He always asked about her day. He helped her home when she got too drunk. He sometimes surprised her with breakfast. He understood her. He made her feel at ease and she could always be herself around him. 
All of the good thing outweighed the bad, and the bad was only part of who he was; Harry, her roommate, her friend, the boy who she hadn't realised gave her butterflies until now.
And perhaps she should’ve knocked or at least made her presence known in any other way because as she slung his bedroom door open Harry was visibly startled and a sour note came from his guitar. He looked at her with wide eyes. 
“Y/N? What the fuck?”
“Do I have any flaws?” she asked him breathlessly. 
“What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” 
“What about me annoys you?” 
 “Shouldn’t you be off getting a drink with Mr. Flawess himself.”
“Well I changed my mind. Now just answer the question,” she urged, wanting to cut straight to the chase. Harry frowned and she wasn’t really sure if he was angry with her or just confused. Maybe both? It didn’t matter though, she just needed answers before she passed out from the anxiety running through her. “Do I have any flaws?”
“I - yeah. You do,” he said. Y/N nodded and stepped further into his room, wanting to be closer to him. “Why?” 
“Just - wait,” she told him and ignored his question by asking her own. “What are they?”
Harry didn’t reply at first. He just sat in silence and stared at her with his brows still pressed together in a frown. God, what if she had gotten it all wrong? She’d have to give up the flat to Harry and move out, leave Manchester, maybe even leave the UK. She’d be absolutely mortified; she’d never recover from it. 
Just as she lost all hope and considered running off to hide in her own bedroom for the rest of the night, possibly for the rest of the term, Harry slowly put his guitar to the side. He rubbed his hand over his chin and pinched the bottom of his lip between his index finger and his thumb, contemplating his next few words cautiously.
“You’re incredibly stubborn,” he told her and despite the fact that he had just basically insulted her a wave relief washed over her as he finally said something. 
“Okay, what else?” 
“You ask way too many questions during a movie.”
“Okay.”
“You overthink absolutely everything.”
“More.”
“You leave notes around the flat over the most meaningless things.”
“Well maybe you shouldn’t leave the kitchen a mess then.”
“You have too much milk in your tea.”
“You don’t have enough.”
Harry cracked a smile but it faltered almost just as quickly.
“You want love but don’t see the person right in front of you who has fallen head over heels for you.”
Y/N had never seen or heard him as vulnerable as he was right there and then. For a moment she wondered if maybe she had misheard him but judging by his nervous fidgeting and how he for the first time ever struggled to look her in the eyes she quickly realised she hadn’t.  
“I do now,” she admitted quietly, almost too quiet, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “I see you.” 
Harry still heard her and looked right into her eyes as he took a sharp breath. Her body ached to feel his touch as she stood in the middle of his room, terrified of what she was about to ask next, but there was no going back. It was, after all, the reason she had followed him home. “And you still like me despite all my flaws?”
“Well,” Harry started and fought back a smile. “I suppose I wouldn’t have saved all your notes if I didn't.” 
It was really all it took for her to close the space between them and throw herself over him. Harry was quick to catch her and his arms wrapped around her body tightly, holding her close, as she pressed her lips to his.
It was strange kissing him and she didn’t quite know where to put her own hands at first, but it felt right that much she knew. Her whole body was on fire from just a simple little kiss. Y/N never wanted it to stop. Harry grinned against her lips before deepening the kiss and sneaked his hands in under her blazer, pushing it off her shoulders before running his hands over her body. 
She wrapped her arms around his neck and it was almost ridiculous how giddy she felt. Harry made her feel drunk, more so than the alcohol in her body. Nothing had ever tasted as good as him. She was completely lost in him and his warmth. 
It wasn’t until she felt him pull at her trousers that she was reminded of reality again and she pulled away from his lips. “You okay?” Harry asked immediately.
“Yeah,” she panted and leaned her forehead against his, twirling the hair in the back of his neck around her finger carefully. “I just... I still got my period.”
“Okay,” Harry nodded and tightened his grip on her, still holding her close, and she was sure she could feel his heartbeat against hers. “S’that all? Because frankly I don’t really care about a little blood right now.”
“Oh.”
“Do you?”
“I... no.”
“You sure?” Harry wondered and placed his fingers under her chin and angled her face so he could look into her eyes. He saw right through her and her mind was hazy as her body melted right into his. Harry made her feel safe and comfortable and it was all she needed to know she was sure.  
She needed him. 
“Give me a second,” she said and gave him a quick peck before getting off him. It pained her to do so but even as she made her way over to the bathroom to remove her tampon, perhaps one of the most unattractive things you could do, Harry’s eyes on her as she walked away made her feel sexier than she ever had before.
She didn’t waste a single second inside the bathroom and quickly did what she had to before she just about ran back to Harry’s bedroom. She caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. She looked dazed. But in the best possible way. Her cheeks were rosy. Her hair was messy. Lips swollen. It was the first time she had ever seen herself look so radiant. Glowing almost. 
Happy.
She also decided to not put her trousers back on after she was done in the bathroom, because why waste time when she was planning to take them off soon anyway?
And Harry seemed to have had the same idea because when she came back he had already removed his floral shirt and his beige trousers as well. His lips were the same colour as her lipstick and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her bare legs and underwear. It made her whole body tingle and she didn’t mind him gawking, because she couldn’t take her own eyes away from his naked chest and the bulge between his legs.
“Come here,” Harry murmured and held out his hand for her to take. He gently pulled at her arm until she was sitting on top of him on the bed, straddling his hips. The lack of clothing on both of them made her blush as he embraced her and she felt all of him under her.  
Harry cupped one of his hands under her jaw and leaned in to kiss her again. It started out slow but as soon as his lips touched her a soft moan came from her. His lips were slightly chapped and yet they were the best lips she had ever kissed. It didn't matter that they weren’t perfectly soft. Not one bit. Y/N never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. 
The kiss quickly deepend and she had her hands in his hair, tugging at his soft curls and getting lost in the taste of his lips. She was throbbing against him and knew he could also feel just how desperately she wanted him through the thin lace of her panties. His lips were eager against hers and she was too lost in him to notice he had blindly reached out to the bedside table and sought out a condom.
It wasn’t until she felt his hand and the small foil packet brush against her leg that she realised. She pulled back and met his green eyes, breathing hard as she tried to find her words to speak. He looked back at her with questioning eyes, silently asking her if she was alright with what was happening between them, and she just nodded. 
She sat back to give him some room and watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers and then helped him get them off before he rolled the condom over his length. The sight alone made her light-headed and, if he hadn’t already, she was sure he could hear how hard her heart was beating. He also caught her staring but she didn’t really care and he only pulled her back into him.
He kissed her along her collarbone, sucking lightly at the skin as he made his way up to her neck. Y/N closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Harry ran his hands up and down her back and then slipped his hands in under the tank top she was wearing before he pulled it off her swiftly. 
Harry took a few seconds to stare at her naked chest when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra before he kissed each of her breasts lightly, making her nipples hard. Y/N just cupped his face and pulled his head up so she could kiss him again, impatient and desperate to feel him inside her and he giggled against her lips. 
Harry only pushed the crotch of her underwear to the side when he lined himself up under her. She gasped as she slowly sank down onto him and had to break their kiss. Harry had one hand around her thigh and the other on the back of her head, her hair twisted between his fingers, as they breathed the same air. 
When she eventually started to move her hips after getting used to the stretch of him he groaned softly, low in his throat, and tightened the grip he had on her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Her blood rushed inside her and her whole chest and face flushed from hearing his words and how hoarse his voice was. She put her hands on his stomach, her fingers digging into his skin around his tattoo, before lifting her hips and taking all of him again; craving the friction created between the two of them.
Harry moaned and let his head fall backwards, breathing heavily, and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his strong jawline. She also couldn’t stop herself from kissing him right there and Harry moaned again as he felt her lips on his skin. 
It made her smile; knowing she was having the same affect on him that he had on her. 
Y/N did her best to find a steady rhythm riding him but her thighs were trembling around him and it had been awhile since she had been on top of anyone. She had almost forgotten how to do it. Harry bucked his hips up into her and she barely had time to react before he impatiently flipped them over and yanked her underwear off.
A loud moan left her lips as he pushed right back into her and instantly built up a new quicker pace, giving her all of him and hitting the spot in her that made her toes curl. He leaned down and connected their mouths again. His chest was slick with sweat as his body pressed against hers and her hands were all over him because she just couldn’t decide where to put them. She wanted all of him. 
And when Harry hoisted himself up and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder to get deeper she didn’t care if any of their neighbours heard her.
“Oh my god.”
Then his fingers were stroking her between her legs and it quite literally took her breath away. Her whole body was trembling as she felt every hot and thick inch of him. Her release was close, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach and he could see it on her as he continued to move above her.
And not once did Harry lose his pace or falter when her nails scratched his back and she clenched tightly around him as her orgasm swept through her body. He kept thrusting into her while she moaned and shivered beneath him.
Just as she came down from her high he got his own release and came with a loud sigh of relief. He continued to move his hips against hers until his muscles gave up from exhaustion and he collapsed on top of her.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, both spent, and she tried to catch her breath. 
Which was hard seeing as he was still on top of her and she could still feel him inside her.
When he raised his head to look down at her, grinning from ear to ear, her whole stomach fluttered. And this time she knew it was because of Harry. It wasn’t because of alcohol. Not because she had a hangover. Not because she was stressed. Maybe because of a few hormones. 
But there were just no excuses. 
Eventually Harry got up. He removed the used condom and retrieved a small towel to clean himself up quickly before handing it over and climbing back into bed with her.
Y/N curled up against his chest and let him run his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head, and she was seconds away from falling asleep when he spoke up.
“I’m sorry for calling you desperate.”
Y/N tilted her head up to look at him.
“S’okay, I have been a little.”
“Still,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t really fair of me.”
“You know you could’ve just told me.”
“I was going to,” Harry admitted with a low chuckle. “But you always came back home announcing you were going on another date so it never really felt like the right time.”
“Hmm, well you didn’t really help yourself by bringing a girl back like every weekend,” she pointed out and laughed lightly. “It was hard to not be blind.”
“Had to try to forget about you somehow,” Harry admitted and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger for a few seconds before continuing. “But you and your stupid post-it notes made it hard.”
“Did you really save all of them?” she asked and pushed herself up so she was leaning on her elbows. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning proudly. Harry laughed and tipped his head back, covering his face with his hands as his cheeks turned pink.
“God, I’m gonna regret telling you that aren’t I?”
“Maybe,” she laughed again before giving his chest a quick kiss, just because she could. “I do kind of enjoy writing them for you though.”
“Of course you do,” Harry said and peaked out from behind his hands with a cheeky smile. “And I enjoy leaving the kitchen a mess because I know you’ll leave me a new one,” he confessed and tapped her nose. 
“I fuckin’ knew it!” she exclaimed with a gasp and shoved him away from her playfully. “You absolute knobhead!” 
Harry only laughed and pulled her back into his warm body. 
On her way back home from the club Y/N had been a little bit worried that she was wrong or that it was going to be weird to go from roommates to more with Harry -- but it felt like the most natural thing. It felt just as natural as everything else they already did together, and maybe that was why she had been so picky recently. Maybe it was why she looked for flaws in every guy she dated so she had an excuse to not see them again. She had already found what she wanted; she just hadn’t realised. How stupid.
“Hey Harry?”
“Hm?”
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
-- 
please let me know your thoughts here ! And please share it if you liked it, it would mean a lot to me! 💛
221 notes · View notes
samcrobae · 4 years
Text
Nanny, Part 3
Tumblr media
Gif Credit: @angels-reyes
Another long one babies, but stay with me! The good stuff is comin! 😈 if I missed you in my tags please message me and let ya girl know. ❤️
——————————————-
After you all came back from the beach Letty stopped you in the kitchen. “Hey Y/N, what are you doing today?”
You were currently making a snack for Natalie who was patiently playing on the floor literally at your side. “I guess just hang out here, I mean whatever everyone else wants to do is fine with me.”
“Lame, hey wanna go shopping? There’s a mall not that from here I already googled it.” She picked up her phone and shows you the screen.
“Okay sure, let me just let Angel know I’m taking Natalie. One sec.” you walk over to the living room where Angel was sat and place an arm on his shoulder and he instinctively brings his hand up to rest on yours. “Hey Letty and I were going to head to the mall, do some shopping so I’m taking Natalie with.”
He lays his head back on the couch and looks up at you, “Nah leave her with me. You’re not on the clock querida, have fun.”
You and Letty grab your things and head out. EZ was in the living room with Angel coloring with Natalie and she was force feeding him some of her snacks. Just then EZ’s phone went off and it was a text from Letty.
“Ok go! Our plan starts now.”
“So what’s going on with you and Y/N?”
Angel looked confused, “what do you mean? I don’t know man you’re the one who told me to bring her here.”
EZ rolled his eyes, “yeah but I mean, are you gonna ask her out? Apparently she’s been talking about it with Letty non stop. She’s been all like when is angel finally gonna ask me out? Angels so cute blah blah and we all know you have a thing for her. We saw you in the water today.”
Angel cocked an eyebrow in his brothers direction. “Yo can you stop eating my kids food? You guys didn’t see shit today in the water. We were all in the water messing around..... she said that? She really wants me to ask her out? Like on a date or some shit?”
EZ nodded his head “yeah I mean not some shit but a date. You know she’s lowkey she won’t say anything about it especially not to you. I say go for it. She’s a good girl Angel.”
“Man shut up..” angel leaned back against the couch and thought for a while before finally speaking up again “hey you think you could keep an eye on Natalie tonight?”
“Yeah of course” just then EZ pulled his phone out and sent a text to Letty.
“Alright he’s in. I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask her out tonight. Also we have to baby sit Natalie. It’s all you now. Don’t mess it up.”
Smiling at her phone Letty looked up at the outfit you had on. “Daaaaaamn girl! Yes! You need to get that. Like now. Wait til Angel sees you in this, he’s going to lose his shit!”
You snapped your head back so fast “wait Angel? Why would Angel care?”
“Oh come on, the man is basically swooning over you. It’s kinda nauseating. We all see how he looks at you and all he talks about with Coco is how he so badly wishes you’d give him a chance, how he wants to ask you out but you’d never want to go out with a guy like him.”
You furrowed your brows and smoothed your outfit over your curves while looking in the mirror. “He really said that? That’s not true. Angel’s amazing. He’s so kind, gentle, smart, he’s such a good dad and he’s so funny.” Your mind trailed off to all of the other things you wanted to say .. how he was so sexy, how he gave you butterflies just at the mention of your name, how delicious his lips looked, how intoxicating his scent was. How all you wanted to do was grip his biceps while you grind your hips into him..
“Helllooooo.... are you even listening to me?” Letty snaps her fingers in your face.
“Sorry what?”
“You need the outfit. Get it!”
————————————————-
“Damn what you guys do buy the whole mall?” Coco notices the many bags in your hands as you head inside.
“A little retail therapy never hurt no one coco” you said as you winked at him. Heading into your room to put your things down, you heard a knock at the door and was surprised to see Angel on the other end.
“Oh hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” You studied Angels face and suddenly your heart began to ache at the thought of Angel thinking he wasn’t enough.
“Yeah, you wanna get something to eat? I never really thanked you for coming over in the middle of the night the other day.”
“Oh, Angel you don’t have to-”
“Nah come on, I already asked EZ to watch Natalie for a bit, I saw this Italian place on the way here. Be ready by 7.” He walked away quickly leaving you no room to protest.
7 came quick. You did a once over in the mirror and tussled your hair before feeling satisfied and walked out into the living room. Coco and Angel were in conversation when Coco looked in your direction, eyes wide, slapping Angel on the chest. Angel glanced up and did a double take before swallowing hard. “Fuck meeeee” he whispered. The outfit you bought earlier today was turning heads in every direction.
Tumblr media
“Ready?” You ask Angel who looks absolutely flustered.
“Yeah yeah, let’s go.” As you turn to walk away Cocos eyes travel to your ass. Angel notices and delivers a quick jab to his stomach “stop asshole.”
———————————————
Dinner was amazing, the place was a little upscale so you were glad you were dressed appropriately. You couldn’t help but notice the prices next to everything and kicked yourself for letting him take You here and not somewhere more laid back.
“So..... ice cream?” Angel asked as you both got up to leave the restaurant. You smiled that warm smile, the one that made him feel like putty in your hands “ugh yes! Ice cream!”
You found an ice cream spot along the beach front and decided to go with a banana split to share.
Angel looked at you for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence, “So, what about you?”
You look over at him “me? What about me?”
“You want kids one day?”
“Oh, yeah. I want a bunch of em,” you chuckle before continuing on, “like 3, maybe 4. I grew up with a small family. Parents were shit and I have a sister but uhhhh.. we were never really close. So I want my kids to have the best parents and have each other when I’m gone. Make those memories you know? What about you? Do you want to have anymore some day?”
Angel took a bite of the banana split before passing you the bowl. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. My life is fucked up and crazy as it is.. and it’s just me and Natalie. If I ever find someone crazy and fucked up as me, then maybe.”
You looked down at the sand and asked the question you had been wanting to ask for 4 long months, “so, your ex, Natalie’s mom, what happened?”
“Shit I don’t know. We were engaged, then pregnant, then we had Natalie and it all just fell apart. I started working a lot and she spent a lot of time with pop and the baby, and one day she just left and never came back. Left me. Left our kid. I haven’t heard from her since. Man and I didn’t know what I was doing it was all fucked up. I still can’t even take care of my kid without someone’s help. Sad huh?”
You put the now empty bowl of ice cream on the sand and placed your hand over Angels. “Nope. Not at all. For what it’s with Angel, I think you’re an incredible dad who loves his baby. And I think you were dealt a shitty hand and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all Natalie will care about.”
Angel took your hand in his, “thank you for everything you do Y/N. Natalie loves you. And I’m glad she has you around. I’m so relieved that you told Letty you been wanting me to ask you out. Shit it’s like a weight was lifted!”
You let out a laugh before realizing what he said “wait, she said that I’ve been wanting you to ask me out? I never told her that... as a matter of fact she said you wanted to ask me out.."
“What? I didn’t say that yeah me and EZ were talking when you went to the mall and —-"
“Those assholes... they set us up.” You let out another laugh and Angel laughs with you. “I don’t know what’s funnier, the fact that we let them set us up or the fact that I’ve never heard you swear until tonight."
You threw your head back in laughter “oh I swear all the time!”
“Well, I guess we should be getting back. I don’t know how much longer I trust Natalie in a house full of those pushovers. She’ll be running it when we get there.” He stood up and lent you his hand to help you up. You began walking back but he still had a hold on your hand.
“Are you coming?” You ask as you turn to face him.
“Yeah, it’s just... you look... incredible mi dulce.. I mean not just today, all the time , but right now? God damn. I just needed you to know how amazing you look. And I’m trying to be respectful and shit but it’s getting hard the more I look at you.”
He walks closer to you and you can feel your heart beat pick up and your cheeks flush. His hands find their way to your hips and you look up at him, there’s a gleam in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, hungry, dark, filled with lust.
His face is so close to yours you can feel his breath on your lips, and you instinctively lick your own. “And all I wanna do right now is kiss you because I been wanting to do that for a while now and it’s driving me fuckin crazy.
“Angel..” your voice barely a whisper and he gently kisses you. You felt like your body was going to explode at just his kiss. Like in the movies where time stops and it’s just the two of you. How cliche were you?
Your hands resting on his forearms as he pulls you flush against him and traces your lips with his tongue. You let him in and the kiss becomes more desperate, but still gentle, and you don’t know how long you were standing there before he broke it to look at you again, resting his forehead against yours.
“Let’s get back.”
You felt dizzy and flustered and turned on and your butterflies in your stomach were on overdrive. You’ve never seen this side of Angel before and it was the best thing you have experienced. He held your hand the whole drive home and when you got back he stopped you at the front door.
“Oh my god they’re back!! EZ they’re here!” Letty whispered. They watched the two of you from the front windows like little kids on Christmas morning.
“I need more.” He pulled you in by his waist again and you let out a small laugh before meeting his lips again. He moved his kisses down your cheek, your jaw, chin, and neck and then guided you to the wall at the front porch. You were backed against the wall and his lips found yours again.
EZ covered Lettys eyes and she scoffed before slapping his hand down. “Holy shit! They’re into each other i fuckin knew it!” She said.
“Shit move they’re coming back in.” EZ dropped down on the couch pretended to be interested in whatever show was on tv.
“So, you guys have fun?” He asked as you and Angel made your way inside.
You greeted him with a smirk, “yeah it was nothin special.” And winked in Angels direction. “I’m going to bed, goodnight guys.” And you headed into your room.
You closed the door and leaned against it when you were in your room. You let out a long sigh and closed your eyes with a smile on your face. What the fuck was happening? Did that really just happen? You really kissed Angel? You were on cloud 9. You removed your makeup and changed into your pajamas and got into bed. Laying there, looking up at the ceiling, it was right then you realized that YOU were in trouble.
Tag List: @starrynite7114 @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @gemini0410 @ifoundmyhappythought @cind-in-real-life @scuzmunkie @iambabyharry @sadeyesgf @carlaangel86 @everyhowlmarksthedead @notsobuckybarnes @wrcn9fvlcver @elcococruz @jenny885 @general-tiny-mouse @loud-midget @danie1432 @strawberrywritings
163 notes · View notes
Note
pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns
HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!
Under a cut bc I went off and is long:
That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???
God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.
Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.
I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned. 
There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why. 
Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases. 
It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one. 
And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.
Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time. 
Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly. 
WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L  L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)
212 notes · View notes
Text
When One Wants Ice Cream
Title: When One Wants Ice Cream
Genre: maybe a little bit fluffy, but primarily comedic (hopefully - i make no promises) 
Pairing: Rin Matsuoka/Haruka Nanase/Nagisa Hazuki/Makoto Tachibana x Reader (all separate) 
Notes: Okay, so this was a random idea that popped into my head while going to get ice cream about a week ago. What happened before going was what inspired this was, when my mom asked me to take our dog outside, I randomly had a craving for ice cream. Instead of answering her question about taking the dog out, I just randomly said, “I want ice cream.” 
The rest of the night we couldn’t stop laughing about it, and I still can’t get over it. (Seriously, typing this up was hard enough as I couldn’t type anything correctly while laughing). 
So, I hope you guys enjoy a rendition of my random sense of language combined with swimmer boys! 
Below the cut! 
Tumblr media
Rin Matsuoka
we are all aware that this boy would die for you 
seriously, certified best boyfriend #1
but that also means that he isn’t afraid to make fun of you when you do or say something weird
which made this moment leagues funnier than it initially seemed
earlier, he had come into the living area of the apartment you two shared with a question
he seemed upbeat, but you were severely drained due to schoolwork aftermath and work stress
unlike him, you worked in a clothing store as a manager
it was v e r y stressful
and sometimes, you just need some comfort food
“hey, babe, what should we do on your day off?”
he was excited, that’s for sure - it’s the first night you’ve had a day off in a while, and he wanted to go out on a date with you. 
but he wasn’t expecting your answer to be so...random.
“i want ice cream.”
he paused, smiled, and bust out laughing. 
“w-what did you just say?”
you weren’t 100% aware of what you said, but that made it all the more funny
“i want ice cream, rin.” 
he continued laughing while you continued to fully realize what you said. 
“like right- right now?”
“yes, i have a craving for ice cream right now.”
he eventually calmed down enough to get out more than giggles.
“well, you wanna go? we can walk up there, but you gotta hurry, babe.”
you were up off the couch in less than a second.
“already on it!’
you both walked up there with your hands connected, smiling and laughing at the most recent occurrence.
and for the trouble, you paid for the ice cream under the circumstance that rin pays it next them.
in general, though, the statement became a small inside joke between the two of you
(seriously. kou, haru, sasuke, you name it - when you pulled this out in front of them and busted out laughing right after, they were so confused.)
(contrary to rin, though, you had to take a photo of every time their reactions came - you have an album dedicated to it and you post the images to tease them) 
Tumblr media
Haruka Nanase
haru is soft despite what he comes off as
but he still has his moments of randomness.
and this was one of them.
you two were walking next to each other, side-by-side on your way to the park. 
you were hungry, he was hungry, and you didn’t want fish for the umpteenth time in a row.
and he knew this, as he really does love you and wants to expand his tastes for the future you two have planned. 
so when you decided to ask a question in regards to what to eat, his answer shocked you just the slightest.
“hey, haru, what do you want to eat?”
“i want ice cream.”
you giggled the second you heard his response to your inquiry, watching as he turned to you
though he kept a straight face, you could see the confusion in your eyes
which just made you laugh harder
you two had to stop and he had to hold you up as you nearly collapsed from laughing too hard
“what’s so funny?”
you were still laughing.
“you- you- ohmygod- you’ve never said anything like that before!”
poor boy was still confused
seriously confused
it kind of hurt, if he were to be honest
but he couldn’t help but smile at your expression
or your laugh
or just you in general
and you saw it as you were calming down from your laughing high
“we can get some ice cream, haru. that was just odd coming from you.”
he was confused again.
“i like it, though. it’s sweet.”
he returned to his mellow expression, still stoic and his eyes soft
his hand was held out as you stood up, and you both continued your walk to the ice cream shop from there
now, from time after time, you tease him about his smile
(and you may have asked his friends how to get him to smile and/or laugh)
(to which they told you to tickle him when you could)
(and now he’s on guard constantly)
(look what you’ve become)
Tumblr media
Nagisa Hazuki
boi is upbeat
like-
very upbeat
and this translates to college life as well.
so he makes the boring days so much better when they hit a terribly low point.
and while you didn’t deal with these types of days very much, the heat was starting to get to you.
nagisa was still bouncing around and trying to find something to do
even suggesting some crappy board games
you didn’t even bring anything up until you felt your stomach grumble.
“hey, nagisa, are you hungry?”
he jumped up from his cross-legged seat on the floor and yelled his response
“i want ice cream!”
you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the reaction, as you were in the mood for something cold to counteract the scorching heat
he had to pull you up from your position on the couch, but you were down for ice cream
which was also reflected in the way you two walked to your favorite ice cream shop.
he had you by the hand, you were dragging your feet behind you, and he had decided to mess with you from time to time
of course, those moments were out-of-the-blue in your zombie like state, but they were fun
people had even watched as you squealed when he’d tickle you or hug your torso like his life depended on it.
still adorable to the bystanders. 
either way, the fun was continued from that point on.
you both got your ice cream, he got his, and you both sat on a nearby bench beside each other
you were happy it was under the shade, he was happy that you both got ice cream
you both enjoyed the fact that this was practically an impromptu date, as well.
at one point, some of his ice cream melted off onto the grass beneath your feet
he pouted, you laughed
and patted his head.
he blushed, and you got your revenge :)
he still enjoyed it, though :)
(he got you back when you both got home by sending you into a tickle frenzy)
(pillows were involved and he still won)
(he’s vicious when he wants to be)
due to the both of you enjoying the experience so much, you’d both be 100% down to do something like this again
which translates to ‘who’s gonna say it first?’
and those impulse dates usually end in one of you getting tickled when you get home.
so yeah, fun times
(if you wanna include the time that you managed to knock your head in against the wall from one of his pillow hits)
(you hit him back hard enough to make him tumble off the couch arm and onto the floor, though)
(but, you know, just couple things i guess-)
Tumblr media
Makoto Tachibana
yet another swimmer boi that would 100% die for you
certified best boyfriend #2, everybody!
no seriously
this is the type of guy you want to take home to meet your parents/parental figures
and he will then manage to inadvertently make them fall in love with him within five minutes
but one of the reasons he is so loved by them is his care and patience.
which is why he was worried for you at the moment
you were staring blankly at a wall in your house, despite the sound of the tv playing a screaming match in a show
he noticed, of course, and he was lost
“are you doing okay, s/o?”
you rarely did this, and it usually meant that something weird would be coming out of your mouth within the next-
“i want ice cream.”
there it is.
he laughed a little at the statement, and when you were able to fully process it, you did the same thing.
his lasted for about 5 seconds while yours lasted around 10
good times, as he got to see your smile for another time tonight.
(you’re adorable. he is soft for you. like, more so than usual)
so he was worried for nothing, thank god.
but he still didn’t know what to do about it as the shops were all closing down soon.
so he decided to check the convenience stores
a few were open!
so, at around 9:30 at night, you two were walking out to get one
it wasn’t very long, but as you two were holding hands tightly 
(and swinging them. again, the sight was adorable)
(god, that was so cheesy, holy shit-)
it went by faster.
upon entering your choice of store, the cashier just peeked up from their trashy magazine
makoto was driven to find the ice cream for you as he was getting a little scared, 
but you were driven to annoy the cashier upon the nonchalant interaction that just occurred.
yes, you definitely did want ice cream, but you also wanted this. 
you were reaching for a two liter of soda near the machine, and luckily for makoto, he stopped you
he could see the gears turning in your head.
don’t tell me he can not and would not stop you.
(it was dark, he was scared - leave him be) 
he had stopped you from causing trouble multiple times in your endeavor to get late night ice cream
thank god, cause you both knew that you’d most likely get kicked out if that were to happen. 
either way, you both had your cheap ice cream after a few minutes
and the rest of the night was spent peacefully at your place, watching cheesy movies 
and of course, scaring the crap out of makoto with a horror movie to provide an excuse to cuddle him when you both went to sleep
(your tsundere jumped out)
(also #savemakoto)
127 notes · View notes
infinites-chaser · 3 years
Text
under a golden sun | mlqc | gavin/mc | 2nd person POV | bittersweet fluff
spoilers for gavin’s campus date and his unreleased basketball date 
You and Gavin spend the summer together alongside Minor and his new obsession with basketball.
(Somehow, the summer breeze feels cooler when Gavin's nearby.)
The sun is low and golden by the time you and Gavin leave Loveland High. He’s about to make his way to the parking lot when you put a hand on his arm.
“Wait,” you say. “There’s one more place I want to visit before we go.”
There’s a basketball court a little behind the school, across the campus from the track. Beside it, always shielding half from the sun, stands an old ginkgo tree.
The you from seven years ago, and Minor, and later, Gavin, pass it every afternoon on the walk home after school. Every afternoon, Minor lingers outside it until the ginkgo tree’s shadow covers nearly three-quarters of the court, gripping the chain-link fence and swearing he’ll join the NBA one day, if only for Steph Curry.
You, already used to this routine, patiently remind him of the homework you two should be starting on soon.
But then Gavin starts walking back with you, and your easy-going two becomes an awkward three. When Minor stops to stare at the court, Gavin asks you why. It’s probably one of the first times he’s ever addressed you directly, and you stiffen, just a little, under his hard amber gaze.
“He wants to join the NBA?” Your nervousness turns the answer into a question.
“I see.”
Gavin scoffs a little, and the conversation’s over.
You pout when his eyes leave yours-- you don’t want to make trouble, he’s well, famous, for a reason or maybe two (his fists) and you’d rather not be on the opposite end of those anytime soon, no matter how much Minor clearly idolizes him.
(Thinking back to when you first met him, you really had no idea he’d have such an impact on your life.)
The first time Minor invites you out to play basketball with him, when you get to the court behind Loveland High, you nearly turn and run. Gavin’s with him. Of course. You really should’ve guessed, seeing how close the two were at the end of the school year. It doesn’t really make you want to run away any less.
Before your fight-or-flight instinct’s flight kicks in, though, a gentle breeze sends ginkgo leaves floating past you, and you remember more than the rumors, you remember a rainy afternoon without an umbrella, a wet kitten, and a boy’s jacket flung over your head-- by the time you went to move it, all you could see of him was that his ears were a bright red. You remember Minor falling into his seat next to you during lunch, a bruise on his cheek though his eyes were bright, his hushed whisper of “Gavin saved me,” and the boy himself pulling up a chair at your table with an awkward cough. You remember how he’d started walking with you and Minor, and no one had bothered either of you on the way to and from the school for the rest of the school year.
You’re still a little apprehensive, but maybe he’s not so bad, after all, you tell yourself. Maybe. But at the end of the day, you don’t really know him, not even from the walks back home after school, for better or for worse.
“Gavin’s here to play, too!” Minor calls to you with a wide grin as he runs over, oblivious to your conflicted thoughts. “He’s really good!”
Then, over his shoulder: “Aren’t you, bro?”
Gavin shrugs from where he’s leaning against the fence, just on the edge of the shade, the picture of boredom. He’s decked out in a dark hoodie and jeans you don't quite understand how he can wear under the summer sun. And, not that you’re in any place to judge what people wear to play basketball, but--
“I’m not playing.”
He closes his eyes as Minor starts to complain, and for all intents and purposes, seems to go to sleep right there on the spot. In lieu of getting Gavin to play with him, Minor tries to teach you to shoot, and you indulge him, and try not to wince too hard every time he tosses the ball in your direction.
The thing is, you’re actually a little afraid of basketball. You’re sure it’s just slipped Minor’s mind-- it had been a big deal at the beginning of the year that you’d desperately tried to get everyone to forget throughout the course of PE, but a boy had hit you with a basketball ‘by mistake,’ and you’d heard him laughing about it with his friends at lunch that very same day.
Sure, that doesn't stop one of your classmates from dragging you out to one of the school's basketball games, and maybe you'd thought the last dunk by that one player had looked downright dreamy, but neither Minor or Gavin need to know that. And since Gavin doesn't give any indication he'll be playing, let alone moving for the rest of the afternoon, you don't really mind playing with Minor, even if every shot you attempt misses.
Minor's far from what you'd call a good teacher, but his enthusiasm and genuine love for basketball is infectious. You take it all in good stride, laughing when the ball arcs at least two feet below the hoop, cheering when Minor makes a three-pointer, then chasing after the rebound when his next shot bounces off the backboard. You're exhausted by the time the summer sun's directly overhead, and you're about to call out to Minor that you're going to take a break when it happens.
Maybe it's the glare, or the way your vision's gone a little fuzzy from the exertion, your reaction speed slowed by a few precious milliseconds, but--
A basketball barrels towards you, and you freeze, can't even think to put your hands in front of your face or even move, all you can do is flinch back, screwing your eyes shut, prepared for the coming painful impact. It never comes.
You open your eyes to Gavin's scowl, his angry gaze directed over your head at a fervently apologizing Minor. The basketball bounces across the court in the opposite direction, then clatters to a stop against the fence under the ginkgo tree's spreading branches.
It takes your brain a long second to catch up.
Gavin protected you?
The thought's absurd, even to your heat-addled brain. And yet--
He looks down at you, his amber gaze softening a little, and the sight warms your cheeks. And maybe your heart flutters, just a little.
"You all right?"
"I- I'm okay."
You manage a shaky smile up at Gavin, and he stiffens a little, then steps away from you quickly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He clears his throat.
"Watch out, yeah?"
You swallow and nod, missing the reddened tips of his ears, the way his gaze tracks to yours, then darts away.
After that afternoon, Minor doesn't ask you to play with him. He gives you no less than five separate apologies, offers to pay for dinner that day, and ice cream, too, but you laugh it off, and try not to think about how close Gavin had been when he'd blocked the basketball, how his soft amber gaze had made your heart pound just a little faster.
To occupy your time, you wheedle a DSLR out of your father, and take to carrying it around, thick strap around your neck, the camera itself cradled protectively to your chest save for the moments you work up the courage to lift the viewfinder to your eye and snap a photo. At first, you think they'll just tease you, and Minor does, and you blush and screw the lens cap back on, the camera sitting in the crook of your arms, unused, as you watch him play.
It gets easier, over the course of the summer, after you sit through many an afternoon in the hazy heat where it's clear Minor now only cares about perfecting his layup and trying reverses, and Gavin, well, doesn't care. He leans against the fence instead of playing and tries to get Minor to miss -- you laugh at some of his funnier jibes and maybe his eyes linger a little longer on your grin, on your smile when Minor's complaining and chasing a rebound, but, well, that's his secret to keep.
You try to capture Minor's hoops. The photos start out frustratingly blurry, and you try to remember what your father taught you about all of the buttons, the aperture, the shutter speed, the ISO. You fiddle. The camera clicks. Gavin takes to peering over your shoulder while Minor tries shots, and you try shooting him. He never says much, just expresses a casual interest, gives you the occasional encouragement, and normally, you would feel pressured, but your shots improve along with Minor's.
(And somehow, the summer breeze feels cooler when Gavin's nearby.)
"Look," Gavin says, once, from behind you, and your fingers stutter on the camera shutter. The picture comes out blurry.
"Gavin!"
You turn to him with a scowl, ready to scold him for ruining your shot, but. Words fail you. He's close. Closer than you'd thought.
Vaguely, your brain registers a single fact: his face is a few bare inches from yours. Also: his surprisingly shy smile. The soft, startled look in his eyes.
An orange butterfly floats up in the space between him and you, its wings beating in time with your accelerating heart.
Both of your faces redden moments later, and you pull back, nearly tripping over your own feet as you come out of your crouch.
"I, uh, wanted to show you," Gavin says belatedly, eyes fixed on the ground, cheeks still dark, a little gruff. "It landed on me."
He clears his throat and makes to stand up. His eyes dart back to you, and he says, softer, while they linger:
"Thought it was pretty."
Another day, Gavin brings a book and settles down next to your usual seat under the shade of the ginkgo tree.
"What're you reading?"
You peer over his shoulder, or at least, you try your best to, catching a glimpse of constellations traced out across the night sky.
"Nothing," he mutters, shoving the book behind him before you can read any more, his ears faintly red.
"You like astronomy?"
"I said it was nothing," he repeats, but his ears burn a little redder. You smile.
"What's your favorite constellation? Mine's actually not a constellation, but I really like the Milky Way. Because of Double Seventh. And Zhinu and Niulang, it's probably really typical of me to say so, but I think their story's really romantic. Even if it's really sad, too."
You pause. Gavin's silent. Heat rises to your cheeks-- you realize you've been rambling.
"Sorry!" You blurt. "I got carried away--"
"I like Jupiter," he says before you can continue, finally meeting your eyes, gaze warm and steady. "Jupiter and how it always protects the moon."
One afternoon hotter than all the days before, you arrive at the court to the sound of raised voices. Minor's there, his fists raised, glaring hard at three sneering boys. At the sight of their faces, your blood runs cold. They go to Loveland High school too. In fact, if you remember properly, Minor had told you one time that the tallest one used to bully him in middle school.
By the looks of it, they'd seen Minor playing alone and had thought to make fun of him-- and the leader had paid in kind, there's the beginnings of what looks like a bruise forming around his left eye.
"Minor!" You call, before the rising tension can get any worse. You know it's a mistake the minute their gazes turn to you. The tall bully's sneer widens, and the way his eyes rove you makes you want to turn and run away. You'd taken to wearing short skirts and tank tops, not to be cute for anyone in particular, though it had been gratifying to think that someone might've seen and admired you, but this just makes you feel gross in a way you can't quite explain.
"So you're tight with Loveland High's Princess," the bully says, and the feeling you have worsens, a pit in your stomach that won't stop growing.
"Little lady, why don't you hang out with some real men for a change, how 'bout it?"
He addresses you with a smirk.
"Leave Minor alone!"
"Yeah?" He reaches for your arm, and you yank it away, heart racing-- even though Minor looks ready and willing to fight, and maybe he could win, but there's three of them, and you don't want Minor to get hurt--
"Let's go on a date, alright? Just the one, and I'll leave Minor-boy alone."
He reaches for your arm again, and you pull out of his reach, cheeks burning with anger.
"Stop it!" You cry, and Minor's moved to your side, eyes flashing, giving you the courage to glare a little harder.
"You can't just throw your weight around and expect people to go along with it!"
The bully shrinks back. His two followers look ready to run. You blink, then try to glare even harder. They all whiten.
Then, from behind you, low and angry:
"Scram." Gavin.
Relief floods through you, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding as the bullies run, and you turn to Gavin with a smile.
“Gavin, you saved us!”
His hard amber gaze softens under yours, and he gives you the smallest of smiles back before his eyes move to Minor.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The other boy nods wordlessly. Gavin claps him on the back.
“You got a good punch in. Don’t worry about them. If they ever come back, we can rough them up again.”
“Yeah. It’s nothing, though. Don’t worry about it.”
Minor sounds surprisingly dispassionate, and you blink up at him, but he turns away before you can properly read his expression, crossing the court to get his basketball.
He spends the rest of the afternoon practicing cheerfully without a shred of anger. You try to cheer him on normally from the shade of a nearby ginkgo tree and Gavin does the same, alternating between feigning boredom, poking fun or offering unhelpful advice.
"Minor," he says seriously, as the other boy attempts a lay-up for the fifth time. "I could just beat them up for you."
Minor scowls. The ball misses, and you spring up to chase after it as it bounces to the other side of the court, though you still hear his response.
"You don't need to do that, bro, I already told you, it's seriously no big deal!"
It's too-loud, too-perky.
Gavin doesn't speak again that afternoon, but his strong gaze never quite leaves Minor's panting form, except to throw you a glance every so often, when you laugh, huff, or frown. When the sun’s about to sink below the tops of the trees, he bids you a quick goodbye, casting a last look at Minor, who continues to dribble in the fading light.
It’s only when Gavin’s gone that Minor sinks to his knees, letting the ball roll free. He sighs heavily and takes the water bottle you offer him.
"I hate him," Minor says suddenly with a viciousness that startles you, a steady quiet burning anger at the bully that keeps your gaze to the ground-- you know, if you look up, you'll see the tears in his eyes.
"So what if I take care of how I look-- he's probably never looked in a mirror in his life.”
Then, quieter still: "So what if I think Fan Bing Bing is cute and Steph Curry, too? Fuck him."
"Minor--" you start, voice trembling, and reach to pat him on the shoulder. You don't know what to say, don't know what you could say. You'd heard rumors before, awful, vicious things people'd said behind his back that surely he'd heard and kept smiling still, but this feels different, to hear it from him, to see him lose control like this.
He shrugs out of your weak grasp and leaves before you can say a word.
The next day, you get to the court earlier than usual. To your surprise, someone’s already there, practicing their free throws. You sigh. You suppose it makes sense that Minor’s been practicing on his own-- you’re sure he’s still upset, and well, he has every right to be, you just wish he’d talk to you instead of practicing until his arms are sure to fall off--!
You’re about to call out to him and say as much to him out loud, but the player whirls, you catch a glimpse of his face in profile and you realize, you’re not watching Minor play, you’re watching Gavin.
There's a passion in his eyes you've never seen before, some softly burning fire, and when his shots go in, you think you see him grin. He looks somehow relaxed, in a way he never seems when Minor’s practicing, and you think it suits him, he looks more natural, more settled when he's in motion. Even if it's just him shooting baskets and catching the rebounds, he makes it look effortless.
As you watch him shoot, mesmerized, you suddenly remember another time-- an evening during the school year, when you’d been tasked with cleaning the gym up once basketball practice was over.
Even though you'd never liked basketball, somehow you’d always ended up with cleaning duty the days basketball practice was in session.
You’d peeked through the gymnasium’s doors, thinking it would be empty and quiet, but barely visible from where you stood just outside the doorway had been Gavin, playing alone, several basketballs rolling around the otherwise deserted gym floor.  You hadn’t known what to do-- whether to call out to him, to ask him to put away the balls when he was finished, or even to leave. You’d stood there for an absurdly long time, unable to decide, watching him dribble, feint around imaginary opponents, then shoot. Each time, the ball had arced perfectly through the hoop, and you’d resisted the impulse to cheer.
You’d still been scared of him. Back then, you’d only ever known of him from the rumors always buzzing around the school-- that he’d fought thirty gangsters, that he’d almost ended up in jail, that one wrong move around him, and you’d end up in the hospital like the old principal had.
But watching him play that evening, you’d thought he didn’t look very scary at all, only maybe a little lonely. In the end, you’d left him to play, hiding in the back of the bleachers to work on the math problems due the next day, hoping he wouldn’t notice you were there, hoping he wouldn’t mind. The echo of the ball’s dribbling and the squeak of his shoes on the floor had been soothing, somehow.
By the time you’d finished your homework, though, the gym had fallen silent, and when you’d looked up Gavin had vanished, and all the basketballs on the floor you’d thought you would have had to clean up were neatly returned to their basket.
The rattling of the basket rim brings you back to the present just in time for you to see Gavin dunk. He wheels around with a whoop, the excited grin on his face boyish. It's contagious-- you can't help but smile, too-- but then he catches sight of you and he stiffens, grin fading.
“You,” he starts, abrupt in the sudden silence. You’re not sure exactly what you would’ve said if you’d been thinking straight, but what ends up coming out of your mouth is:
“Gavin! Your dunk was really cool!”
“Yeah?”
He looks away, bouncing the ball idly a few times.
“You don’t like basketball that much, though?”
“It’s not that-- it’s more like I’m scared of it.”
“Why?”
He’s looking at you again, expression open, curious. You realize belatedly that this is maybe the most relaxed you’ve ever been around him, the thought bringing a touch of pink to your cheeks.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal, just someone in PE hit me with a ball one time. So now, I find it a little scary.”
“Watching you and Minor play, though,” you continue, “and seeing how much you two enjoy it makes it a little less frightening.”
You smile at him again, and he’s silent for a long moment. You panic a little internally-- have you said too much? But then he responds, almost too low for you to hear.
“I could teach you to play. If you wanted.”
You nod.
“I’d like that,” you say, and it comes out quieter, a little hopeful, your cheeks still tinged with a blush. It feels like a moment, or the edge of a moment, a hair’s-breadth away from something, though you wouldn’t be able to name it even if someone were to ask.
Even when Minor finally shows up, you fancy you can still feel it stretching between you and Gavin, that thread of something, something more.
Days pass in that fashion, Minor practicing with a vengeance, without a word to you and Gavin as the two of you orbit each other, almost. There’s a day when Gavin brings his book again, and settles down beside you, only to fall asleep in the middle of reading it, his head dropping dangerously close to your shoulder.
Minor grins at the sight when he stops for a drink of water.
“I was able to concentrate today-- I was wondering why, but it’s because my number one fan’s asleep!”
An awkward moment passes as you both stare in silence at Gavin’s sleeping form. You like to think that he looks softer like this, all his hard stares and glares and furrowed brows smoothed out.
“I’m sorry about getting mad that time,” Minor says without looking at you. “None of what they said was your fault, Sis. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
"It's fine. You had every right to be upset. Just next time-- I want to be a friend who can listen and help, alright? If you'll let me."
Before you can say another word, Minor pulls you into a hug.
"Of course I will, Sis!"
Just like that, any remaining awkwardness between you dissolves, and you joke and talk like normal.
“Minor, the other day I saw Gavin playing, and I was just wondering…”
You trail off, hoping he’ll finish the thought before you have to say it aloud. Minor tips his head.
“Why isn’t he teaching me?”
You nod, looking away. He laughs, but it sounds a little sad.
“You know, Gavin, he taught me how to fight. I kept following him after he saved me that one time, and saw how he saved other people too with those fists, so I asked him to teach me. And he did.”
“But this, you know, I just feel like it’s something I have to do on my own, somehow. I asked him not to teach me, told him he didn’t have to come. ”
He smiles to himself.
“He came, anyway.”
Then, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes,
“I wonder if it was for me, though.”
You blush and don't reply.
When Gavin finally wakes up, Minor drops a bombshell. He's challenged the bullies to a basketball match. A basketball match that's starting in less than an hour.
“Two-versus-three? You’re on.”
Gavin’s voice is carefully bored, but when you look over at him, there’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes. For the first time since the start of the summer, he shrugs off his hoodie, tossing it aside as he moves to the middle of the court to join Minor.
“Good luck!” You call to them.
Minor flashes you a thumbs up and a grin. Gavin throws you a single nod over his shoulder. Then, the bullies arrive and the game begins.
You can't help the way your eyes follow the motion of Gavin's toned arms, the flex of his well-muscled shoulders-- for all you'd heard stories about him getting into fights, it had never occurred to you what exactly that meant in terms of, well, his physical fitness. Specifically, how built he is under the hoodie he always wears. If you were more shameless, you're sure you'd take the opportunity to raise your camera and capture a physique you can only describe as art. You consider yourself lucky that they're both so caught up in the game that they don't notice your pronounced blush and can't hear your extensive internal commentary.
You can't really say you're being biased-- you're sure anyone with eyes can see that he's made to be an athlete (there's a fluidity to his movements that you're sure even poets would be at a loss for words at). And, for all he teased Minor for the other boy's NBA obsession, even your unpracticed eye can tell: Gavin's good at basketball. There's something about the way he passes the ball to Minor, the way none of the other team's throws make it past him: it speaks of an ease that's only possible through months, years even, of experience.
It's no wonder Gavin and Minor win, easily. You think that Minor probably would've won, even without Gavin's help.
Nevertheless, the moment the game’s over, Minor runs over to crush you in a warm, sweaty hug. After a moment, he pulls back, grinning.
“I won!”
Gavin clears his throat. Minor’s grin widens and he turns to Gavin, beckoning him to join. After a moment, Gavin lets himself be pulled into the embrace.
“We won.”
(You notice in hindsight that Minor's the one who landed all of their team's shots.
Even more in hindsight, you remember the wind being particularly strong that day-- none of the shots of the bully's team had ever gotten close to the basket.
"Gavin, that day, the wind--" you start, as you gaze at the empty court, the two of you surely thinking of that same summer.
"He would've won either way," Gavin responds before you can finish. "But I wanted to make a point."
His eyes flash for a moment when they settle on yours, sharp and angry, and you remember the way the bully had taunted you, too. You swallow, and give Gavin a small smile, and maybe he sees a bit of his anger reflected in your gaze, because he reaches out and takes your hand without a word, holds it tight.)
After the game, the rest of the summer passes in a blur. Minor still practices his shots in the court just outside of Sunshine Alley, but Gavin stops teasing him about joining the NBA. One afternoon when you get there, camera in hand, Gavin has a split lip and bruised knuckles, Minor a black eye, and neither responds when you ask what happened and why.
You never see the bully or his friends again, but Minor'll swear up and down he and Gavin had nothing to do with it.
Some days, Minor doesn't bring his basketball, and you trail behind him as he makes the long walk to the track behind the school, Gavin, silent, at your side. The first time, you realize you've worn the wrong shoes when the backs of your sandals begin to dig red marks into your heels, and you have to take a moment to sit and pull them off, rubbing your feet. Gavin lingers beside you, and you try to shoo him after Minor's retreating back, but he waits until you're ready to walk again, and keeps pace with your pained steps. The next time Minor wants to run, Gavin's brought his motorcycle, and though you also wear more sensible shoes, you don't turn down the ride he offers.
"We'll meet you there," Gavin tosses over his shoulder as Minor salutes. You let your hands rest as lightly as possible on his back, and when he doesn't turn to look back at you the whole ride, you and your burning red cheeks are glad.
When you get to the empty lot by the track, your blush seems unwarranted-- Gavin offers Minor a spin around the lot, and a ride back, which the other boy eagerly accepts. While they ride, you crouch and capture pictures of the flowers blooming through cracks in the concrete, the blur of the motorcycle in the distance. After, they run, and you chase after them with a laugh to capture that too, their backs illuminated by the fading summer light.
Gavin lets you sit behind him on his bike again one late summer evening after Minor's gone home and you blush when he pulls your arms a little more firmly around his waist and tells you, with a grin, to not let go this time.
You protest. It had only been once that you'd almost fallen off and that was because there had been three of you, you and him and Minor behind, and really, Minor had pulled you off-- but your indignant words are lost as he guns the engine, his chest shaking with laughter.
The wind steals the sound of his chuckles as the motorcycle leaps forward, tugs the tie from your messy braid and spins your hair into a fan, opened in the bike's wake. Gavin accelerates and you shoot across the lot, chasing the fading rays of sun, to the end of the horizon and looping around to the start. He looks back just once, amber eyes shining with more than just the sunset gold, and you're sure the grin on your face is just as wide as his.
You drive in circles until you're both dizzy and you press your cheek to his warm back, both of you shaking with breathless laughter, and you think recklessly, you don't want this to ever end, even though you both know that the coming school year is Gavin's last, one more summer and then he'll be gone, because this is a moment almost profound, golden like the setting sun, and moments like these, like the already darkening sky, are never meant to last.
(It doesn't.)
That year, you see Gavin confront another boy in an alley. Cash passes in the space between them, from the boy's shaking hand to Gavin's open palm. You think you make a sound, maybe a quiet gasp, but Gavin's head turns, your eyes meet-- it's the same amber gaze as always, but you've never seen him so cold and angry-- and you bolt.
He never explains it to you. He never gets a chance to explain it to you. Time crawls by, and you see him less and less-- though you're never quite sure who's avoiding who-- until it's just Minor and you, and then just you and Minor's shaky smile, Minor pressing a bloody letter in your hand.
You don't need his "it's from Gavin." You don't open it, not the whole year.
By the time you finally decide to leave it at the bottom of your nightstand's drawers, the ginkgo buds are starting to bloom, and Gavin's graduated, somehow, gone.
You still pass by the basketball court every day on the way home. You still eat late night dinners with Minor in Lynn’s Kitchen when your father says he’ll be home late.
You leave a post-it note on the wall one time, when you go to eat alone.
I hate it when people leave without saying goodbye.
Minor leaves when you two go to different colleges. Your other high school friends scatter, too, petals caught in the wind, whether they go to Loveland University with you or not, you drift apart.
Two years into college, you get the phone call from the hospital. It’s your father , the nurse on the line says, and you don’t want to hear the rest.
When you’re old enough to inherit your father’s production company, you fight for it-- every new episode of Miracle Finder is yours, forged from tears and sleepless nights, team meetings with Willow and Kiki and ever-faithful Anna, gritted teeth and forced smiles as you strain and strain and strain, as you bow your head to the show’s patrons and bite back anger at their condescension, at their false condolences and greedy eyes.
Then the last episode of Miracle Finder airs, and it has better reviews than its predecessors have had in a while, thanks to Professor Lucien and his easy charm. You congratulate your crew, and make sure to thank them all profusely by treating them to a company dinner.
But when you watch the aired episode in the dark and quiet of your own apartment, and the credits roll with their nostalgic music, one last time, it feels a little like losing your father all over again. He’s gone again, without a goodbye.
You vent at Victor. He accepts your proposal, but gives you an absurd deadline to meet, and you’re floundering all over again. The company, yours to preserve, one last fading memory of your father’s legacy, put on the line. Again.
You strain. This is one thing, you vow to yourself, you’ll never let leave without a proper goodbye.
But Gavin comes back-- and it feels like a vicious cycle in your life’s been broken. You hold onto the company. And, finally, you remember what it feels like to not only survive, holding on by the barest inch, but to flourish. You come back together, in fits and starts. He saves you, in more ways than one.
"What are you thinking about?" Gavin asks you now as you stare at the empty basketball court of a summer long since gone. You're sure if you look close enough, there'll be flowers growing through the cracks now there in the concrete just like the ones you'd photographed once upon a time. And maybe you’ll never get that summer back, but Gavin came back, and he's here with you now, to see the gingko leaves fall and bloom again, to see this sunset, and this time, it doesn't feel like a moment. It feels like it could last forever.
You tip your head up to grin at him.
"Will you let me ride with you on Sparky home?"
He smiles back, soft and sweet and just for you, and you know, he remembers too.
"Don't let go this time," he says, and when he puts his spare helmet over your head, his hands linger, his eyes on yours. I remember everything, he seems to say.
Your heart skips more than a few beats, but you don't look away, and the wind picks up, too, sending gingko leaves swirling through the air around you both. As you look up at him, you fancy the glow of his eyes outshines the setting sun.
"I won't," you reply at last, and what you mean but don't say is I remember it all, too.
You rub your fingers over the bracelet around your wrist, and when he starts the motorcycle, and the two of you speed away in the fading gold light, you press your nose into his warm shoulder, listen to the sound of his steady heartbeats, and hold on tight.
14 notes · View notes
Note
Hey! Could you do the number 24 (“Is that a tattoo?”) from the fanfic prompt list, pretty please???
Fanfic Prompt List (Third time!)
#24: “Is that a tattoo?”
Abby invites the David-DiNozzos to London for the weekend, and since it’s only a two-hour train ride from Paris, they decide to take her up on it. Tali is ridiculously excited for this little adventure, having never before been to “Peppa Pig’s country”, as she puts it, and the journey goes smoothly.
They have a lovely time—neither has seen Abby in years, and the visit makes them both nostalgic.‍..
Maybe a little too nostalgic.
On Saturday night, they have a few glasses of wine with dinner, and it doesn’t take long for them all to go from sober to tipsy. When Abby offers to refill Tony’s glass for the fifth time, he protests.
“Thanks, Abby, but I think I’ve had enough.”
Abby sees him looking at the bottle with longing, though, and she grins. “You sure there, Tony? ‘Cause your mouth is saying one thing but your eyes are saying another.”
He glances at Ziva for help, but she’s feeling wonderfully fuzzy herself, and she just shrugs at him, looking like she’s trying not to smirk.
“Okay, alright, maybe I’ll have one more glass,” he concedes finally. “Two, tops.”
It won’t be twelve hours before he comes to regret those words.
_______________________
Neither Tony nor Ziva will ever be nonchalant or cavalier about Tali’s safety; they can’t afford to, not with everything they’ve had to deal with in the past.
So when Abby asks if they’d like to go out to a pub, they say no. “We cannot leave Tali alone and we do not have a sitter we trust here,” Ziva says regretfully. A night out sounds like just what she needs. (Or maybe that’s the merlot speaking as it sloshes pleasantly in her stomach.)
“She could probably stay with my roommate,” Abby offers. “I doubt Natalie would mind.”
“Key word there was ‘trust’, Abbs,” Tony argues quietly. “You know we can’t just leave her with anyone. It takes time to vet people. I’m sure your roommate is nice enough, but we don’t know her.”
“I understand,” Abby says sincerely. “It was just an idea. You do know her, though, at least through that whole six-degrees-of-separation thing.”
That makes Tony laugh. “You could say that about anyone. I also know Kevin Bacon and Obama and Beyonce, but you don’t see me calling them to babysit.”
“It doesn’t go that far back with Natalie, Tony! Besides the fact that you know me well and I know her well, you’ve got another connection to her, too.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s Clay’s cousin,” Abby shares.
She and Tony exchange bittersweet smiles.
“That is the MI-6 officer who was lost to a shooting, yes?” Ziva cuts in softly, not wanting to interrupt but wanting to make sure she’s following the conversation.
“Yeah, Clayton Reeves. He was a good friend.”
“Cool guy,” Tony agrees. “But I thought he didn’t have any family, Abby.”
“He didn’t know he did. Natalie tracked me down once I moved here, and she told me that she’d been looking for him for a long time after they were separated as little kids. And yes,” she adds, cutting off the questions that are clearly forming, “her story checks out. I know to be careful, too. Wouldn’t want Gibbs to show up guns blazing if I got myself in trouble, and we all know he would, damn the consequences.”
Maybe it’s Abby’s sincerity or maybe it’s that brief flash of regret for Reeves’ death, but something changes Tony’s mind. He wants to trust Clay’s cousin, and he wants to be able to trust people again.
Still, it’s not solely his decision, and when he turns to look at Ziva, he finds her already watching him. She seems to be thinking along similar lines, and they come to a silent decision. “If Natalie is who you say she is and if she does not mind staying while Tali sleeps, then… show us your favorite pub, Abby.”
From there on out, the night’s a blur.
_______________________
Waking up the next morning is rough, to put it delicately. Tony has a pounding headache and his mouth hasn’t felt this dry since his chat with Saleem in the desert of Somalia; the only bright side is that though he’s mildly nauseous, he doesn’t think he’ll actually be sick this time.
He’s certainly hungover, but the worst of it must already be behind him, he thinks. He probably escaped largely unscathed.
He hears Ziva gasp, and though moving seems like a terrible idea right now, he feels compelled to see what has startled her. He’s surprised to find that it’s him holding her gaze. “What?” he asks grumpily, not in the mood to be stared at.
“Is that a tattoo?”
“What!?” he repeats. “Where?”
She taps the inside of his right bicep, and he looks down. Holy effing shit. Looks like he didn’t survive the night unscathed, after all.
He looks back up at her in horror, but her shock has already given way to humor. She has her hands clapped over her mouth, sadistically gleeful. “Tony, tell me you did not!” she cries, though the proof is right in front of her.
“It’s probably temporary. It’ll wash off,” he decides, pushing past his throbbing headache to rise and go scrub the ink from his arm over the bathroom sink.
It does not wash off.
He comes back, feeling shell shocked, and sits down heavily on the bed. “Yes,” he mutters.
“Yes, what?”
“You asked if it was a tattoo,” he replies snidely, not enjoying her clear humor at his expense. “I’m saying yes. It is.”
The look on his face, half mildly shocked and half ornery, sends her over the edge. She starts laughing and can’t stop until there are tears in her eyes, because every time she glances at him and his general air of annoyance, the whole situation seems funnier.
Tony waits it out, arms crossed, and eventually, Ziva quiets. “You done?” he demands, unimpressed, and she nods, still grinning. “Good, because I have questions. What happened last night?”
That makes her shrug. “I do not remember much. I drank nearly as much as you did.”
“Then why aren’t you hungover?”
“Genetics?” she guesses, and he does not appreciate her still-smug expression. “Anyway, Tony, it is not so bad. The tattoo is pretty.”
“Pretty!?” Tony repeats incredulously. “I don’t want a pretty tattoo!” Ziva remains too tickled for his tastes, and it makes him grumpier. “I’m a man,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “A grown ass man. A manly man! I’m not pretty.”
“You are pretty, Tony, but that is beside the point.”
He still wants to argue, but at least that sounds like a well-intentioned compliment instead of a tease. “Then what is the point?”
“Do you know what your tattoo is?”
“Um, yeah, Ziva, I’m not that hungover. I know what a flower is.”
She chuckles but shakes her head. “I know you know that. But do you know what kind of flower it is?”
“When it comes to plants, if it’s not a rose or a sunflower, I probably can’t recognize it, no.”
Ziva reaches up and gently traces his new ink with her finger. It really is nice, she thinks, just a continuous-line outline, tasteful and, in her opinion, not ‘unmanly’ at all. “That is a narcissus papyraceus bloom, better known as the ziva flower.”
Tony’s eyes flicker from her hand to her face in surprise. “Are you serious?”
She nods.
“Huh. Not gonna lie, sweet cheeks, I didn’t know there was a ziva flower.” He looks back at the tattoo—though it’s on the inside of his arm, easy to hide if he doesn’t want it seen, it suddenly seems… not so bad. He is and will be hopelessly in love with Ziva, and after all the shit they survived, maybe it’s only fitting to carry something with him that’s so uniquely her.
“Now you will never forget,” she teases, interrupting his musing, and he reluctantly starts to see the humor in the situation after all.
“Guess not,” he agrees, rueful but not unhappy.
Ziva smiles, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Come, flower child,” she says. “Let us go check on our child.”
_______________________
At breakfast, Abby is upbeat and cheerful as usual, and she bustles about cooking five different things at once. “How are you two feeling this morning?” she wants to know.
Tony and Ziva exchange secret smiles. “We are no worse for the wear,” Ziva answers for the both of them.
“Glad to hear it! Man, you guys really let loose last night.”
“Yeah, we figured that out this morning,” Tony says with a laugh, reaching up reflexively to touch the physical reminder of the evening’s adventures.
Abby notices. “Oh, yeah, how’s that tattoo doing? You have to remember to put cream on it a couple of times a day. It’ll heal faster that way.”
“Thanks for the tip, Abbs. It feels alright.”
Abby pauses to flip a pancake and then turns to them again, gesturing with her spatula. “And how’s your tattoo, Ziva?”
“My what?” Ziva parrots in surprise.
Now Tony understands the evil glee Ziva felt earlier. Oh, he can’t wait to hear more about this, especially because Ziva found his surprise tattoo to be so amusing.
Turnabout, he remembers, is fair play.
56 notes · View notes
lucrezia-thoughts · 3 years
Note
June 26th, 9am
Marcus woke up early on this beautiful summer morning. He carefully sneaks out of your shared bedroom, taking Neville with him, preventing his son to wake his mom before everything was ready. The dog ran outside to live his life while Marcus go straight to the kitchen. He absolutely wanted to cook you your favorite meal for this special day, perogies. He remembers you talking about this meal all the time, complaining about how the frozen ones were tasteless. But when he looked up at a recipe, he knew his cooking skill weren’t high enough to prepare perfect perogies for his love. for 2 months, he told you that he was working on a big case to justify coming home late some days, when he was in fact taking cooking class.
He took advantage of the time you were sleeping to cook the meal and an angel food cake. He feared he had wakened you up when he made the whipped cream, in which he added green food colorant to make the cake funnier. When everything was baking, he run to the shower and dressed himself with his new suit with a matching tie for him and Neville.
He jumped when the door behind him opened then turned to be greeted by the cute sleepy face of his wife. He took you in his arms and showered you with kisses “Happy birthday, my love…”. You smiled widely, thankful to have a husband like Marcus. The second the nugget heard you, he run towards you to say hi. “My perfect boys!”
Once you were dressed, Marcus helped you dolling you up. He loves helping doing your hair while you do your make up… As much as he tried, makeup wasn’t a thing he could get right. He took your hands and lead you in the living room. Your favorite record was playing, a few presents were placed on the table and the scent of food filled the air. He slowly started to make you dance with him, whispering sweet words in you ears. You kissed him and happily dance with your husband and your dog around the living room.
When the alarm rang, reminding Marcus of the food in the hoven, you sit at the table, waiting patiently for him. When you saw what your lover made for you, you squeal with excitement. You even asked yourself how you managed to have the chance to be married to this man.
After finishing your plate and your birthday cake, you opened your presents. Marcus know you didn’t really want anything, but he always buys you a little something to make you laugh and this year, he bought you a blanket with cute dog’s faces on it. He told you it was for replacing the last one that Neville stole, again.
After a lot of cuddles and make out session, Marcus told you to fix your make up and grab a jacket. You follow him without asking too much question as he told you not to do. You found yourself in the car, wondering where he was taking you. Marcus parked in front of your favorite club. You noticed the parking was kind of crowed and started to panic. Your husband took your hand, leading you inside while asking you to trust him. When you entered, you were greeted only by a few of your closest friends and family member, the person you were the most comfortable with. Marcus booked the club only for you, knowing the owner would agree. He was glad he could help you enjoy the club for your birthday, having witnessed your panic attack the last time you came, feeling sorry for a beautiful woman like you.
The evening went by quickly, filled with joy and laughter. When Marcus noticed you start to be exhausted by social interactions, he thanked all your friends and family before taking you home with him. While you got ready for bed, Marcus put your favorite movie on the TV of your bedroom. You eventually joined him, snuggling in his arms while you watched the movie, even if you were more focused on cuddling your husband and your son.
Marcus was focused on the movie, even if he already saw it a hundred times with you, when he heard your sleepy voice. “Thank you so much Marcus, I love you…”. He smiled like an idiot when he noticed you fall asleep on his chest.
-🌱🐝
MY LOVELY 🌱🐝!! 🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺 THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THIS IS SUCH A WONDERFUL GIFT!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1 note · View note
incomingalbatross · 4 years
Text
MML fic: Seniority
So a consensus was reached on this post about Cavendish and Dakota’s various apparent age discrepancies. And then I wrote this in one sitting.
Characters/categories/warnings: Cavendish & Dakota, the MOST gen, and absolutely none. Word count: 1448, apparently
Vinnie Dakota, Time Agent (Third Class) was relaxing in their tiny agency-funded, almost-free quarters when his partner came in.
“Hey, Cavendish, didja get the—”
And then he fell off the couch. (Oh, maybe that was why his mom had always told him not to sit upside-down with his legs draped over the back.)
His idiot partner, who had left a few hours ago his young, dumb, blond self, now had gray hair.
And a mustache.
But the fact that the mustache was also gray was really more alarming than the fact that it existed.
“What happened?” he demanded, scrambling to his feet and hurrying to his partner’s side. He lets Cavendish out of his sight for one minute and he, what, lost thirty years? This was...this was so not okay. They weren’t even on a mission!
Cavendish coughed, awkwardly, and Dakota suppressed the urge to shake him. Only he would be embarrassed by losing half his lifespan, seriously. What, did he “break a rule” doing it? (Ha. As if.)
“Nothing...interesting,” Cavendish said huffily, avoiding eye contact. (See, Dakota used to not know the word “huffily,” but Cavendish did things that way so often that he was forced to learn it.) “Just...you know, the sort of thing that happens when one is a Time Agent, not worth dwelling on, shall we just move on?”
Dakota grabbed his shoulder. “’Not worth dwelling on,’ are you crazy?” And now he did shake him, just a little, because this idiot apparently needed it. “’Not worth dwelling on’ is when we take a detour for lunch before finishing the mission, Cavendish. ‘Not worth dwelling on’ is when a nickel from 1970 ends up in 1940. What is worth dwelling on is you losing...!”
And then he trailed off, eyes narrowing, as his brain started to put together what was in front of him a little more thoroughly. Something here was not what it seemed...
Cavendish’s eyes darted to his, and then away again. He fidgeted nervously.
“No age spots,” Dakota said slowly, eyes still narrowed. “No wrinkles, even.” He poked Cavendish’s cheek, then his shoulder. “As much muscle as you’ve ever had—”
“Oi!”
“Shut up, I’m deducing.” He pulled on Cavendish’s arm, raising it from the elbow. “Hands look the same too. Your ears and nose aren’t any bigger, either...”
“What?”
“It’s a thing that happens when people get old, look it up.” He dropped Cavendish’s arm, grinning. “When people get old. Which you haven’t.”
Cavendish hunched his shoulders, cheeks starting to flush under the gray mustache—yep, yep, still his idiot junior partner. “I mean, well...”
“Which means,” Dakota drawled, still grinning, “that you dyed your hair. Gray.”
“I—well—I—”
“You dyed your ha-air,” he singsonged, poking him again. “What, is this about people not taking you seriously? You wanted to look older? It is, isn’t it.” The emotional switch from “alarm” to “entertainment” was a little dizzying, but he was totally going to milk this for all it was worth. Cavendish deserved it for scaring him like that, anyway. “You dyed your hair so people would think you’re older.” Then he stopped, feeling his eyes widen with a sudden, beautiful realization. “You did it so people would think you’re older than me.”
Cavendish was trying to storm away into the kitchen, but that wasn’t really working when their “kitchen” was just a counter with, like, three appliances, and also only like four steps away. Now he stopped, back turned but still obviously bristling. “It’s not all about you, you know!” There was a slight pause. “...And anyway, you’re only a few years older than me.”
“Uh-huh,” Dakota said smugly. “So you’re telling me you didn’t do this so people would think you’re the senior agent?”
Cavendish hesitated. “...Not entirely.”
“Wait, really?” He blinked. “Spill.” Dakota joined his partner at the kitchen counter, heaving himself up to sit on it while Cavendish made tea around him (and tried to glare him into moving, but he was beyond glare-proof by now). “How’d it happen, then? ...And how’d you get a full mustache?”
“Well...” Cavendish’s cheeks were still flushed with his earlier embarrassment, but after a second he carried on. “I was getting fitted for my new time-traveling clothes—”
“Oh, is that what you were doing today? I gotta get over there and get mine done soon, huh.”
“I told you where I was going three times! And I’ve been reminding you to go yourself!”
Dakota blinked. “Really? Huh. My bad, I’ll get to it tomorrow.” Or he’d do it next week and go back to tomorrow but, y’know. He wasn’t going to say that part. Cavendish didn’t like him “breaking the rules” for “trivial matters.”
...He should probably actually do it tomorrow.
Cavendish humphed (another Cavendish Word! Though Dakota wasn’t sure if that was actually a word, to be honest), but went back to his story. “So I was getting fitted—and I quite like mine, I will say—but the tailor said they were too old for me. And I said, ‘Well, yes, it is from the past, that’s rather the point,’ and she said, ‘No, I mean they’d look better on you if you were older.’” He paused, pulling his “World’s First Commemorative Mug” mug out of the cupboard, and then continued. “And I said, ‘Oh, all right, but it’s a bit late to alter them, isn’t it?’ And then she suggested that I try how they looked with me altered instead. My hair, I mean.” He paused again, reflectively. “And then she thought what I really needed to complete the outfit was a moustache, so she used a Quick-Disguise Kit to speed-grow mine and then dyed that as well. And...well, I rather liked it. Especially with my new clothes, but even so...” He turned to face Dakota fully. “Tell me, honestly, what do you think?”
Dakota blinked, looking him over. Even though on a closer inspection he could tell Cavendish wasn’t actually old, people who didn’t really know him probably genuinely wouldn’t notice—maybe it was his bone structure, or something, but the look held together surprisingly well.
Obviously, of course, no one but Cavendish would actually want this, but hey... “If you wanna look like an old man, instead of just sounding like one, then why not?” He clapped his partner on the shoulder, grinning. “Live your dreams, buddy.”
Cavendish pouted. “Seriously, Dakota!”
“Hey, hey, I am serious,” he defended himself. “It kinda suits you, weirdly enough. If you want to keep it, well...we’ve both done weirder things. We’re time-travelers, for crying out loud! If we’re out there saving human history as we know it—” not that a couple of Third Classes like them would actually get important jobs, but Cavendish was young and idealistic “—we should get to do it with whatever hair color we want, right?”
Cavendish nodded, clearly trying to convince himself. “Right. And, you know, I think this will help me do my job.” He peered down into his tea, fingering his mustache. “I think I will get more respect like this.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Dakota rolled his eyes, and used the height advantage of sitting on the counter to ruffle his ridiculous partner’s ridiculous gray hair. Cavendish jerked his head away with an offended splutter that made Dakota snicker, and he added, “Besides, I thought you said this wasn’t about making people think you were older than me.”
“I said,” Cavendish said, straightening himself up, mug clutched properly in his hand, “‘not entirely.’“ He turned away, sipping his tea, and added, “That’s merely a fortunate bonus.”
“Hey!” Dakota yelled at his back as he walked over to the couch. “Rude.” It probably would’ve been more effective if he could stop grinning, but what could he say? Sometimes Cavendish was funny.
“I bet I’ll still get more respect than you,” he added, jumping down from the counter. Cavendish had grabbed the remote, and he had the worst taste in shows, but maybe Dakota would go get his fitting done while he was thinking about it. (There was a good ice cream place he could detour to on the way back, anyway.) “I bet even with your fancy clothes and my tracksuit, I’ll still get more respect than you.”
Cavendish sniffed, flipping to a rerun of Horse in a Bookcase. (Seriously, the worst taste. Eesh.) “I’ll take that bet,” he said.
“Cool cool, we’ll discuss terms when I get back,” Dakota said, grabbing his jacket. “And just to make it fair, I won’t tell anyone that you’re not as old as you look, old man.” He paused. “Not that I would anyway, actually, it’s funnier if the whole agency thinks you were in some kind of dramatic time-incident that you refuse to talk about. Oh, man, this could be fun...”
He went out the door on Cavendish’s indignant “It will not!”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say,” he called back, laughing, before he shut the door. “’Senior’ partner.”
42 notes · View notes
melyaliz · 4 years
Text
The Yellow Umbrella pt.5
Tumblr media
Masterlist 
Fandom: Marvel 
Summary: Eating cookies and whip cream -NOT- off each other 
Pairing: Demon Lord! Loki x Reader
Notes: I’ve been struggling with this story. Like I have the outline and everything but… I feel just a little lost with where I am going. So I may take a small break. Idk.  I think it’s more I want it to be funnier but I don’t think it is. Then again I’m reading it over several times. 
Or it’s just me 
All Masterlists @melyalizarchive
Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest
DONATE or REQUEST
------------------------------------
Loki sat up looking around the bedroom, curled up in a soft blanket and cuddled up with a stuffed pig. His new friend. His pig was getting more action with him than his secretaries at the moment. He had been here more in the past few days than his own bedroom really. 
Maybe he was acquiring a taste for cotton over silk. 
Getting up he noticed the fluffy pink robe laying on the floor. Picking it up he gracefully wrapped it over his body. Sadly there were no slippers. It did, much to his delight, have a hood with bunny ears.
“Well don’t you look adorable” the lady of cotton said looking up as Loki walked into the living room. She was scrolling on her phone as the tv played. A plate of cookies and can of whipped cream on the table in front of her. Loki just nodded, pulling the hood over making the bunny ears flop in front of his face. 
“I felt like I needed some sugar this morning,” she said, noticing him looking at her place of sugar. “If you want some you will have to risk Mr Mewoly”
“For those cookies, I will take the risk.” Loki’s pink ears bounced as he made his way to the kitchen. A pot of coffee sat on the counter as well. Opening the cabinet where he remembered seeing Yue pull out a mug he was greeted by a line of cream cups all etched with dark lettering  “Coffee, Hot chocolate, Tea” as well as some bowls that said soup pasta, and cereal. 
Pulling out an appropriate Coffee mug and helping himself to come coffee before risking his life grabbing a few cookies from the demonic cat’s body. Was it just him or did it’s eyes look even eviler than he remembered? Maybe he should get one of those, to guard his office when he isn't around. 
“I like your informinate dishware” Loki said, flopping onto the couch next to Yue who smiled at him. 
“It’s so I don’t forget.” she said as Loki grabbed her feet draping them over his lap before,“By the way, these cookies are amazing. Totally worth the risk.”
Loki nodded as he added a healthy amount of whip cream to his cookie before taking a bite, “Jeff, my assistant, got them for me.” 
“Oh fancy you have an assistant.”
“That I do.” Loki said, taking another bite of his cookie. His free hand gently stroked her ankle as he studied the TV. The two twins were battling some crazy puppets or something. He wasn’t totally paying attention, still waking up.  
“So your assistant’s name is Jeff huh. Do you also have a name?” Yue asked. Loki paused licking sweet cream from his lips as she flashed him a cheeky grin, “See what I did there, smooth.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle, She was as cute as her choice of robes and dishware, “Very” taking the last bite of his cookie he savored the taste for a moment before speaking again,  “Loki… and you?”
“Loki?” she let out a light laugh “what are you some norweedic god or something? Did you parents hate you? Like Thor I could see but… Loki? Wasn’t he like… the bad guy”
“Not bad necessarily… more like... smarter than everyone else.” 
“Still, Loki? Why not just say Hades, at least that bitch was loyal.”   
“Laugh it up, what’s your name?” 
“Yue”
He tried, but really he didn’t have much to say to that, “it fits you.” he said nodding. It did. It fit her like everything else in this apartment. It was just so… her. 
“So…” she said settling back into her couch of comfort, “Please don’t take this the wrong way but, I like this…. thing we have going.”
“Speaking of loyalty.” Loki said, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t really do relationships… I mean this has been fun, don’t get me wrong but, I’m not about to feed you some pomegranate seeds or whatever.”
“No, that’s what I mean. I like THIS” she motioned between the two of them, “No strings attached. Feeling like we don’t own anything to the other person.” 
“Well in that case I’m all for this thing we have.” 
“So you’ll keep stopping by?”
“I’m only a text away.” 
Nodding Yue pulled out her phone handing it to him, “I’m here for texting. I like to do things with my friends.” 
“Never want to get in the middle of that.” Loki said taking the phone entering his number, “I can always meet after if you're down.” 
“Deal” 
Her hand was still out so Loki took it and shook. Making it officially official. His slender fingers wrapping around her own. 
It felt like the beginning of something. But the fact was it kind of was.
The beginning of nothing. 
-----
“So you guys basically shook on being hook up buddies?” Sammie asked as she took a cookie from the plate that was on the table. 
“I think it’s cute” Riley said, “did you get him some snacks or are we special?”
“Well he actually got us those cookies,” Yue nodded down the now demolished plate of cookies. She had brought over to Sammie’s apartment for movie time, she would say night but it was more early evening. They were watching clueless with a bowl of carrots. And cookies because Yue refused to spend the whole night eating only healthy food even if it was for the memes. 
“He’s hot AND he gets your amazing sweets!?!” Riley moaned, “Are we sure this guy isn’t fake?” 
“Like what?” Sammie shickred, “Is he a cardboard cutout?” 
“Yes, he’s just got a cutout of Brendon Urie and I have been carrying him around pretending it’s my side piece.”
“I like how this cardboard cutout isn’t even your boyfriend. He’s a side piece which means you can sleep with other cardboard cutouts.” Sammie picked at the hole in her sock that had been slowly growing since the movie started. 
“I have Paul Rudd bringing me cake for lunch and Frank Sinatra delivering pizza for dinner.” 
“Living the dream” Riley chuckled, “Oh I have an idea! After this movie  let’s find you something to help him eat your cookie” holding up the image of a local sex shop on her google maps. “They close late like a good sex shop too.” 
“Really Riley?” Sammie said looking up at the shop skeptically. “We have like 6 other movies planned.” 
“We could always watch them after. Go on a quick adventure.” 
“Adventure!” Yue giggled, “Come on Sammie maybe we can find you something tasteful for your presentation on Monday.” 
“Yes I’m sure the Magic Cherry will have JUST what I need to help me pitch my website design on Monday.”  
“Something Leather maybe? I’m sure the party planning company will be super into it.” 
“Yue’s right, after all they ARE all about partying.” 
Sammie fought back a smile as she tossed Yue a hoodie. “Let’s just get there before they close. I don’t want to be those jerks who are there when the workers want to leave.” 
Yue nodded following her friends out bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Feeling giddy with excitement. “This is the craziest thing I have ever done.” 
------------------------
“It was the craziest thing I have ever done” 
“That’s where you have been? Doing the craziest thing ever?” Jeff asked as he came up behind Loki holding his black umbrella. Loki surveyed the dark road as they both slowly walked under the large red bridge. 
“Yep we watched this show called Gravity Falls.” 
“What?” 
“It’s a popular children’s cartoon.” 
“A children’s show?” 
“We ate cookies with whip cream.” 
“Off each other?” 
“Out of bowls,” Loki pulled out a pair of white rubber gloves from his pocket, putting them on. 
“Oh, did you… was she young?” 
“For human standards no, you know I don’t mess with anyone who is not within reason.” 
“Cookies for breakfast is the craziest thing you have ever done? Really?” Jeff sighed, closing the umbrella shaking it. Most of the rain had slowed at this point and from where they were standing it wasn’t really doing much good anyway. 
Loki chuckled slowly crouching down. Holding out his hand he waited for Jeff to hand him his cane. Which he did. “I wore a fluffy pink robe with bunny ears.”
“I guess it’s important to have new experiences.” his assistant sniffed looking around tugging his coat closer to himself. 
Loki nodded using the sharp end of his cane to poke at something. 
A dead body. Half its face already decaying in the muddy ground, eyes missing. Around it several others. All their eyes missing bits of their body decaying.
“You sent these vampires out only two days ago.” Jeff, “You think it’s the faceless?” 
“No” Loki sighed standing up, “This is something else. Something worse.” 
“What should I tell the others?” 
“Stay in packs and if anyone knows anything to come to me right away.” Loki turned surveying the site that lay before them. He had sent for the vampires from Seattle to go down to LA to check on Brandon after the LA demon hadn’t shown up for their meeting. While not unusual it hadn’t sat right with Loki. 
Now with almost ten vampires laying here dead and the rest missing he was starting to worry. If someone had overthrown Brandon they would normally approach Loki. New terf lords would want to make a truce with the most powerful Demon Lord on this continent. 
No news, in this case, meant nothing good. 
-------------
“They have butt plugs that have tails,” Riley said holding a pretty pink and glitter one, “And a unicorn horn, I could fulfill all my little kid dreams and become a unicorn.” 
“Please don't refer to yourself as a little girl in here” Sammie frowned, “It’s weird.”
“Ok, sorry sorry.” Riley said looking over the other items on the wall. “I have been wanting to try these,” she said, pulling a pair of nipple clamps. Sammie, already feeling VERY out of place just looked down at her phone nodding.
“Get whatever you want, I just don’t want to picture you and Sam… doing stuff.” 
“Ok fine,” Riley said, grabbing ones she thought she would like before walking over to Yue who was looking over a rack of panties.
“Find anything fun?” 
“Yeah a few things, What do you think?” she asked, holding up a lacy lingerie. A pretty green color.  
“Love the color” Riley nodded before grabbing a pair of fluffy black cuffs, “Get these too,” 
“Ok but I want the pink ones,” Yue giggled thinking about the morning where Loki had dressed up in her bunny robe. He looked good in it. Under all that eyeliner and studds he was just a big dork. She found it hilarious and would do everything to keep messing with that side for her own amusement. 
“So are you guys meeting up tonight?” Sammie asked, coming up nodding toward the set Yue was holding approving. 
“No he hasn’t texted me.” 
“So what about late dinner? Gary was saying we should go out to this speakeasy place.”
“Oh let me text Sam,” Riley said, “He’s been wanting to go there. Yue you can just find your Paul Rudd while we are out.”
“Or just enjoy the company I’m with.” Yue snickered, “I don’t have to spend every night hooking up.” 
“What’s the fun in that?” The cashier chuckled as she took Yue’s things. 
“A girl needs at least one night to herself.” 
“Well you got the wrong stuff for a night by yourself.” the cashier said as she wrapped everything up, “But I do have some dildos on sale if you want some you time.” 
--------------------------
Sam had responded almost immediately that he would pick the girls up. Something about a long week and just wanting to be with his lady. So rushing back to their apartment the girls quickly changed out of their jeans and hoodies into more slutty hipster attire. (A girl’s gotta dress the occasion after all) 
Once she was more speakeasy and less “I am cuddling with my two best friends watching movies” Yue grabbed her bag and walked outside her apartment. After locking her door she turned almost running into a tall dark haired man. Dressed in a red leather jacket he was smoking a cigarette. Yue’s eyes instantly went up to the man’s bold white streak that ran across the front of his black hair. Blue eyes looking down at her amused. 
“Oh, excuse me.” 
The large man shrugged holding out his cigarette pack “Want one?” 
Yue shook her head, thrusting her keys back into her purse, “I’m good thanks.” 
He nodded putting the pack away, “You’re all dressed up, going somewhere fun?” 
“Yeah just dinner with friends.” 
“Nice, I’m visiting a friend, know any good places to go?” 
“Uh well we are going to Idain Basian but if you want something more happening, maybe like Valencia street?” 
“Oh sounds good, I’m not big on waterfronts.” 
“Well I hate to break it to you but San Francisco is basically an island.” 
This earned her another chuckle. “True, well have a good night and be careful there’s a full moon out tonight, never know what crazy you'll run into.” 
Yue nodded walking toward the gate of the complex where her friends were waiting, turning back she got one last look at the man, for a moment she could have sworn it looked like his eyes glowed. 
Maybe she was watching too many cartoons. 
Or maybe he was just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat. 
No, she was definitely watching too many cartoons. 
-GET TAGGED!- 
Masterlist 
Forever tag:  @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear  @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr  @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8
Story:  @irwin-hood @hit-th3r0ck @cruel-kitten @boofrarti @i-miukimiuki @mmimagine-40 @mynameofuser @pia-1000 @angelgl16 @the-fifth-marauder03 @plutos-deamonchild @frenchfrostpudding @carydorse @neverleturheartshow2​ @sebhiddleston​ @probsjosh @dracaryspowpow @andrea20967​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @olive-tini @albinotigerpython @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @alessia--winchester 
16 notes · View notes
gosh-im-short · 4 years
Text
Prejudice Painted in Our Minds  Chapter 1
Tumblr media
Summary: Lillian and Calum have always been at odds. The two have never been able to get along and that never doesn’t seem to be changing any time soon. But when they both learn that Calum’s sister and Lillian’s best friend, Melanie, is dating a guy they both don’t approve of, it seems they have something in common after all. 
Warnings: uh nothing so far. a mutual dislike for Kyle and some jabs at the dude 
word count: 3.6k 
a/n: okay first of all i really want to thank Hailey @talkfastromance4​ for helping me with this fic. she’s been letting me just blabber about it for a bit now and im really happy it’s finally coming through yay. i don’t have a face claim set for Lillian (unless me but lets be realistic) or Melanie so hopefully my descriptions don’t suck too bad. and hopefully the pov shifts back sense as well. anyway umm I hope you guys like it and if this flops ah uh we’ll just never speak of it
taglist: @galcalirwin​ @tea4sykes​​ (if you guys wanna read this that is)
  The steady beating of her finger beat down onto the high table as Lillian waited. Melanie was suppose to meet her for lunch, but so far the woman hadn’t arrived yet. She started to chew her lip as she brought out her phone. No notifications yet. So maybe she was on her way? Hopefully she hadn’t forgotten. A slight smile crept up onto Lillian’s face. Melanie had a habit of forgetting that is for sure. 
  But as she took another glance at the cafe’s door, she saw her best friend rushing down the sidewalk outside of the cafe. Lillian’s smile widened as Melanie opened the door making a chiming sound appear and walked in. The eighteen year old, dark skinned and black haired woman looked disheveled with her pale yellow sweater dipping down from her shoulder. She looked over and caught Lillian’s gaze before she walked over to her. Lillian looked slightly up as Melanie came and sat down at the table. 
“Sorry, I’m so late. Traffic was a pain.” Melanie exhaled as she set her skinny forearms down onto the table and rested her chin down on them. 
“It’s fine.” Lillian said with a wave of her hand as she glanced down at her friend. Melanie was on the side of... Well... dramatic. She tended to be over dramatic at times and made life seem like it was suppose to be filmed. Was it a little ridiculous sometimes? Yes. Did Lillian want to throw a table sometimes? Absolutely. But she didn’t. Why? Melanie was her best friend and if that was her best fault, well she couldn’t let that come between them. 
“Did you order yet?” Melanie asked as she rose her honey brown eyes up at her. 
“Oh no not yet.” Lillian said as she glanced at the register. “I wanted to wait for you.” A small smile came onto Melanie’s lips. 
“Well isn’t that sweet?” 
“And also make you pay for your own stuff.” Lillian decided to throw a tease at the woman. 
“Hey.” Melanie said with a grin before she reached out and ruffled Lillian’s brown hair. 
“Hey yourself.” Lillian laugher as she fixed her frizzy hair. And she just got it somewhat perfect too. Sigh. 
“It’s not my fault my parents are stingy about my allowance.” Melanie said with her signature pout. “They usually let Calum get it first.” But at the mention of her adoptive older brother, Lillian’s face fell. If you measured the amount of love that Lillian had for her best friend, then you would be able to equal that to the hate she had for Calum. Oh yes. Calum. Just the thought of his name made Lillian’s nose wrinkle. 
  While Melanie was easily the light of Lillian's life... her step brother was an entirely different subject. He was the bane of her existence to put it simply.  The one that always was in the back of her mind like a fly that was buzzing around her head. And there were times she really, really wanted to slap him. Metaphorically or physically? Both. 
“Ah. I see.” Was all that Lillian said with a slow nod. For some reason Calum always had a bone to pick with her. From the first day she met him, he was always rubbing her the wrong way. And she never did anything to him. He was just... Calum. In every annoying way he was. 
“Lilly, are you listening?” Melanie’s voice rang out into her thoughts. Lillian sat up more. 
“I- no. Sorry I wasn’t.” She apologized with a shy smile as Melanie sighed. 
“Its all right.” Melanie said with a a wave of her hand. “I was just talking nonsense anyway.” 
“Oh well umm... should we order?” Lillian offered with a tilt of her head. Her brown locks dipped down and touched her bicep. 
“Sure.” Melanie said before the two of them stood up and walked towards the cashier. 
  The café was a rather popular place. It was nestled in on a corner in the downtown part of the city. It was Lillian’s favorite place because of classical music and it served frozen coffee. Frozen coffee was far superior to iced coffee in Lillian's opinion. And coffee would always top over those disgusting liquid leaves. Ugh. She chewed on her lip as Melanie ordered a very sugary drink along with a pastry that also had a lot of sugar in it. Melanie was always that type of girl with a loud and unashamed laugh followed with a snort out of her button like nose that just made anything and everything that much funnier. The teachers in their high school had learned very quickly not to let the two of them sit together.    Once Lillian finished ordering her coffee and bagel (with cream cheese of course), she headed back to the table. Melanie was already sitting down and gazing out of the window. Her thin eyebrows were pulled together in a furrow as she stared out. Huh. Lillian sat down in front of her. She was definitely thinking of something. Lillian looked down at her miniature hands. She had discovered a while ago that if Melanie wanted to tell her something that was bothering her, oh she would definitely tell it.    A couple minutes passed in between them in which the calm and understanding quietness existed. Lillian scrolled through her phone to see what posts she was tagged in. Melanie did the same thing while chuckling to herself about something only to shove her phone into Lillian's view to show exactly what was funny (which happened a lot since Melanie laughed at sometimes the most dumbest stuff.) Lillian stayed in her seat with her ankles crossed and her forearms settled on the table until her name was called and she had to rise, mostly awkwardly because of the tall table that she had chosen.    Once seated, she situated her iced coffee and the wrapped bagel down on the table along with her napkins and knife. And just... just when she was about to bite into her cream cheesed bagel- Melanie spoke up  "So I have something to tell you." Melanie said in a sort of rushed manner. Lillian slowly set her bagel down on the wrapper.  "Uh- yeah. Shoot." She said as she gave a glance down at the unbitten bagel. Then she looked at her friend who was chewing on her bottom lip. Uh oh. This something... was going to be something it seemed.  "So uh- it's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now." Melanie said as she clasped her hands together on the table. "You see.... there's no easy way to say this." She exhaled a laugh as she looked down and away from her. Lillian shifted in her seat uneasily. "I have a boyfriend."    Lillian's eyes went wide as she stared at her best friend. Of all the things... she... she can't be serious about this. Melanie took a chance and glanced up at her friend with an awkward smile on her face.  "Surprise?" "I... umm... wow." Lillian breathed out as she... well. It was definitely a surprise. "How long have you two been together?" "Two weeks now." Melanie answered with now a shy smile. She propped her elbow onto the table and leaned her cheek into her palm. "And he, so far, has been a dream."  "Ah... well uh- wow. This is great." Lillian said as she sat up straighter in her chair. "I'm happy for you." And she was, but... just.... she wished Melanie would have said something about it before now. "But uh..." She cleared her throat awkwardly.  "Why I didn't say anything?" Melanie finished for her. Lillian offered a short nod. "Well.... to put it simply... you wouldn't have approved of him." Lillian titled her head confused.  "What? Why not?"  "Well..." Melanie trailed off and looked to the side.  "Do I know him?" Lillian started to fill in the gaps as she leaned closer to her friend.  "Uh... yes." Melanie was fiddling with the bracelet adoring her wrist now.  "So... who is he?" Lillian asked as she studied her friend. Then... wait. "It's not Dylan right?" Melanie's brown eyes flew open as they snapped back up to her. "Because you promised you would not go back to that cheating son of a-"  "Oh- no." Melanie interrupted as she flapped her hands around like a frightened bird. "It's not Dylan. It... it's Kyle." And at that- Lillian's jaw fell.  "Kyle? The guy who was always high on powerade?" She said as she stared at her best friend in disbelief.  "Yes... but that was in high school! We're in college now." Melanie reminded her with a nod as if that made it completely fine. "Yes- but... he.... he's... Kyle." Lillian stressed out the name of the long haired, Naurto loving... man. It seemed he was more of a child most of the time. And the fact that he just looked like he did crack half of the time as well? Ugh.  "I know." Melanie said with a sigh as she looked back at her. "But he... you just don't know him." Lillian rolled her eyes.  "I know him well enough to know that I just... don't like him." She defended her opinion of the man. Melanie let out a frustrated sigh.  "Yeah, yeah... I know. Which is kinda why I delayed on telling you." Lillian bit on her lip. Then she slowly exhaled.  "I... I can't really stop you from dating him, but I... just..." Her words trailed off as she reached up and moved her hair back. "I don't want you to get hurt again." Melanie reached out and placed her hand on top of hers.  "I know. I know you don't me to get hurt." She told her friend softly. "But I trust him. He's a good guy." Lillian just bit her lip and nodded a few times.  "If you say so." She mused before she was sipping her cold coffee. Melanie was quick to switch the subject to a different one. Lillian mostly listened and nodded as Melanie rattled on with her story. It was usually like this- Melanie speaking and Lillian listening. But Lillian didn't mind, she liked listening to her friend speak. She had a certain way with her soft voice, but loud expressions. Melanie could make even the most boring story full of life like she was Persephone.   Then the two were standing up from the table and sharing their goodbyes. Lillian headed out of the café with the sun glowing down onto brown hair before she disappeared down the sidewalk and out of Melanie's view. Melanie smiled to herself before she turned and headed down the sidewalk herself. The rising heat of the sun warmed her dark skin as she headed back to her apartment. She and Calum shared an apartment together. Calum was currently working during the day so she didn't expect to see him anytime soon.    So it was a sudden surprise when she walked into the apartment to see her older brother lounging on the couch. Calum was clad in sweatpants- as usual- and was spread out on their couch. His attention was on the screen of the tv sported in front of him until his head swerved over to her as she closed the door.  "Hey." He said rather casually as he looked back at the screen.  "Hey. I thought you were working today?" Melanie questioned as she came further into their living room and stood next to the couch.  "Yeah me too, but," a one shoulder shrug paused his words, "I requested a later shift." Melanie nodded a few times.  "Oh okay. Move the leg." She directed her older brother before he did as she said. Calum learned a long time ago that if he didn't move the leg, the leg would be sat on. She sat down next to him as he fixed his position on the couch. Her brown eyes landed on the tv screen as a comedy was playing with it's laugh track appearing. She bit her lip as she stared forward before her eyes drifted back to her brother. Well.... she told one of them. Might as well try to tell the other. "So Calum." She started out while clasping her hands and looking down at them. At the sound of his sister's voice, Calum looked over at her.  "Yeah?" He asked with one of his thick eyebrows raising. What was up with her? "There's something I've been meaning to tell you." He sat up a little bit more and looked over at her. His silence only prompted her to continue. "Uh so uh- I told Lillian this morning about this but-" "Oh so that's where you were. With Lilly." He interrupted her as his eyebrows rose further. Melanie gaze met his with an annoyance sparking in her brown eyes.  "You know she hates that nickname." She stated flatly as Calum fought the desire to smirk. And that was the reason he referred to her as that. "Anyway as I was saying.... uh..." once again that nervous expression was back on her face. "You see... uh.... I have a boyfriend." What.  "You have a what." Calum repeated as he stared at his sister in shock.  "A boyfriend." She repeated as she looked down at her hands. He couldn't believe this.  "Who?" He questioned as he turned to face his sister completely on the couch. Then... oh. Oh no. "It's not Dylan right?" To his surprise, a huff came out of her lips.  "No it is not Dylan. It's Kyle." Calum was sure his eyes were going to bulge out of his head.  "Kyle?" He repeated after her. He couldn't believe this. "The Kyle from high school? The one I'm pretty sure took drugs?" "Oh for the love of- Kyle does not do drugs!" She exclaimed while throwing her hands into the air. "He's a very sweet guy actually and we're dating and I just wanted to let you know." His lips pressed together as he studied her. Her eyes were now directed on the screen firmly. Her hands were clasping around the ends of her sweater.    Slowly a sigh exhaled out of him. Melanie could be very stubborn about some things. Whether that be her opinion or her life choices. And it seemed this was going to be one of those times.  "I... all right. Can I meet the guy?" Again he wanted to add, but decided not to mention the infamous moment of Kyle spilling his drink on his shirt that one time... no. He had not forgotten. Melanie's eyebrows rose and she gave him a quizzical look. "What?" "You... actually want to see him?"  "Yeah... sure. See if he's actually changed." Or if his sister is just believing in the best again. She was silent for a few moments. Then a slow smile came onto your lips.  "Sure. We can all go out to eat tonight, that is... if you can make it there."  "Make it an early dinner around five and sure."    Melanie nodded as he turned his attention back to the tv screen as she pulled out her phone. Maybe it was time to kill two birds with one stone.  __   Lillian checked her reflection in the mirror as she smoothed the fabric of the navy dress over her hips. It was a dark blue that was snug against her waist and was sleeveless as well. There were splotches of glitter across her torso that fortunately didn't dig into her chest. The dress stopped at the base of her knees in a flowing manner while the upper level of it was snug against her body. Over all she thought she looked rather well in it.    She hadn't done much with her makeup except her lashes, brows, and lips and she had pulled her brown hair back into a low bun. For one it drew more attention to the silver jewelry she had on her neck and for the fact that her hair was quite frizzy.   She picked up her purse and her black heels before she was making her way to the door of her apartment. She slipped on her heels and a black coat before she was making her way out. Her apartment wasn't entirely large. It consisted of two medium sized bedrooms, a kitchen that flowed into the living room, a bathroom that connected in between the two bedrooms, and a laundry room right next to the kitchen. Well okay maybe it was a little big. But there were apartments that were bigger.   The sounds of the rushing past cars greeted her ears as she stepped out of the complex and onto the cleaned sidewalk. The click of her heels corresponded with her steps as she walked down the busy street. The cars flew wind at her exposed legs and she hugged her coat closer around her body. The restaurant Melanie wanted her to meet at was only a few minutes away from her apartment since she lived practically in the middle of the city. Lillian had been surprised at Melanie's offer for them to spontaneously have dinner at a quite expensive place hence all her get up. But she had understood once Melanie mentioned the fact that Kyle was going to be there. And she had said she wanted to meet him. So even though she had planned to stay snug in her bed this night, she decided to put on that dress she's been saving for a nice date and get out of her apartment.  __   Calum stepped into the dim lightened restaurant and immediately sought out his sister. She had left a few minutes before him (somehow she had gotten herself ready in record time) and had gone to pick up Kyle it seems. The man didn't have transportation apparently. Some of Calum's building up annoyance disappeared whenever he spotted his sister at a white clothed table in the distance. He walked across the carpeted area until he was standing at the table.    Melanie paused her talking whenever her dark eyes met his and a smile blossomed onto her face. Kyle turned in his seat and met his gaze as well.  "Calum! Long time no see." The toothy grinned man greeted him before he held out a tattoo covered hand to him. Calum mentally grimaced as he glanced down at Kyle's pale hand. It looked... sweaty. But he forced himself to reach down and shake the man's hand.  "Yeah... been a few months." He answered as his dark eyes met the man's bright hazel ones. Kyle's dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the back of his head. It made his forehead and nose stand out that much more. Kyle didn't seem to have that much of style still it seemed. He took a seat in front of his sister who had a nervous look on her face. Then... wait. Why was there another setting next to him? He was about to ask before Melanie suddenly stood up. "Lillian! You made it!" Calum froze at his sister's words before he slowly turned.    His dark eyes met Lillian's bright blue ones as she stared straight at him. He swallowed as he took in her open, painted red mouth that hung down as her brows were risen. She was... definitely not expecting him, huh? Well he wasn't expecting her either. He gave a glance at his sister as she sat down before he turned his attention back to Lillian. She was walking towards him now with the sound of the skirt brushing against her bare legs greeting his ears. He swallowed as his eyes drifted downwards before they floated back up to her. The dress was absolutely stunning on her. It complimented her eyes making them an even brighter blue and he had to admit the dress fitted her curves quite well. But the hair... it was too slicked bad. Too kept back. It exposed her neck and collarbones, sure, but he never liked it whenever she had her hair pulled back or up.    She slipped into the seat beside him and for a brief moment her knee bumped into his. Calum swallowed as he faced away from her and back to his sister.  "Kyle, it's nice to see you again." Lillian greeted in that overly too soft and sugarly sweet tone she always used with someone that was younger and less mature then her. Calum almost rolled his eyes.  "Yeah wow. Lillian, you look great! It has been a while, hasn't it?" Kyle commented as a grin was set on his face. Calum picked up a menu and started to browse through it.  "Yeah it sure has. Umm you look great too." She politely said as Calum gave a glance forward. Kyle was wearing a dusty old shirt and probably jeans. Great was very overexaggerated.  "Thanks." Kyle answered back as Calum turned his attention back to the menu. The prices were the first thing that stood out to him as he browsed through. Melanie had certainly taken them all to an expensive place to get to know Kyle. Irony was that Kyle was still... Kyle. Clad in probably a band t-shirt and worn out blue jeans. It looked like he was never going to change. A loud clap suddenly got Calum's attention as his eyes diverted back up. "So? Who's hungry?" Kyle asked as he looked around the table with that same stupid grin plastered on his face. Mentally a groan wanted to come out of Calum's mouth. This was going to be a long dinner. 
20 notes · View notes
m0etenchandon · 5 years
Text
Period sex (Reader x Joe Mazzello)
Pairing: Reader x Joe Mazzello Summary: Joe wants to help relieve your cramps, resulting in fluffy period-sex Warnings: SMUT (18+), fluff, period-sex, blood mention, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering A/N: I only got positive response from you guys when asking if this was something you wanted to read, but if you don´t just skip it. It´s not really graphic, but there are definitely mentions of blood. Wish I was funnier so I could capture Joe´s personality better.. Thanks for reading! Wordcount: 2.6 K
Masterlist
“Are you sure there´s nothing I can get you?”, Joe asked with a pout. You were on your second day of your period, cramps actually slowly killing you. It was the first time Joe had experienced you on your time of the month, having opted to postpone them using your birth control for a while. You hadn´t been together for that long, only 5 months, and were still very much in that everything-ends-in-sex-phase of your relationship. Therefore, making it an easy decision to just skip them. However, you figured you could handle one period. What you didn´t expect, was how intense the cramps would be. Joe had immediately come over to your apartment when you told him, showing up with ice cream and chocolate. Being the amazing boyfriend that he was.
“No, just hold me”, you said, snuggling further into his embrace. His arm that was around you were drawing circles on your back, desperately trying to soothe you. He hated seeing you like this, hated feeling this helpless. There was nothing in the world he wouldn´t do for you.
“It´s so unfair that women have to go through this”, he said. Joe was leaning down to kiss your head when you suddenly fisted his shirt, feeling another wave of pain hit you. A whimper leaving your mouth as you clenched your eyes shut.
“Sometimes I wish I was a werewolf, you know like in teenwolf, and then I could take all your pain away”
“What are you talking about, Joe?”, you giggled, slowly opening your eyes to stare at his dopey face. Happy to be distracted for a few seconds.
“Just saying, I would definitely become a werewolf for you babe. And, bonus, I would be really fast and strong”
“You´re such an idiot”, you laughed. Putting your hand on his face, you leant up to press a kiss to his smiling lips. Completely melting into his touch, pulling away with a smile on your face.
“And besides, who decided that your boobs will look fucking amazing right now but be too sensitive for me to touch”, he pouted. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh. “I love your boobs”
“I´m sure that’s awful for you, my love”, you said patting his chest. “At least you´re not the one who has to walk around wanting to fuck whenever and wherever”
“You see, that´s where you´re wrong. I would take you any surface of the house, anywhere, anytime. I will never not find you attractive, babe. Pretty sure I would fuck you even if you had the personality of actual garbage”
“Even if I never put on makeup?”
“Definitely”, he answered as he kept caressing your cheek. A huge smile plastered on his face.
“Or if I only showered once a week?”
“Yup”
“Even if I said I hated the Yankees?”
“Hmm, I´d have to think about that one”, he giggled before pressing his lips against yours. He pressed his tongue into your mouth, slowly moving. His hand holding your face close. Humming contently, you kissed him back.
“I could give you an orgasm, you know”, he blurted out once you pulled away. Completely taken aback by his abruptness, you raised your eyebrows. “I heard it helps with the pain”
“Well yeah, they do, but trust me you don´t want to do that”
“I would, babe. I´m serious, if you want to then I´m more than willing”, Joe said. You eyed him, searching for any sort of hesitation in his expression. Getting your period always left you a horny mess, just a small naughty thought making your heartbeat increase. You had never tried period-sex before, but from what your friends had told you it was a whole ordeal. It was messy. The relationship was so fresh still, and this was the first time he saw you in this situation. It felt so intimate, so personal. However, you found yourself wanting to. Needing him to give you an orgasm in fact. At least one. Your legs involuntarily clenching together.
“But it´s so messy”
“We´ll put a towel down, it will be fine, babe. I know you´re desperate to get off”, he said as one of his hands started teasing the waistline of your shorts. Shivers shooting down your spine. “I´ve seen how you bite your lip, how you clench those beautiful thigs together whenever I do or say something even mildly sexual. I know you want me, I know I turn you on”
“Aren´t you grossed out by all the blood?”, you asked. Your heart was beating at a million miles an hours, body warm with both arousal and embarrassment.
“You think I can´t handle a little blood, babe? I´m an actor, I see blood all the time”
“Yeah, but this is different”
“I want to, Y/N. Please, let me help you”, he said before caressing your cheek with his thumb. Eyes locking with yours. You bit your lip, contemplating his proposal. You couldn´t understand how he even found you attractive in this state. Your hair was in a messy bun, one of his hoodies covering your body. However, you trusted him. Trusted him to tell the truth, to make this pleasurable for you.
“Okay”, you whispered, seeing his eyes light up.
“Really?”
“Yes, now get to it”
You were impatient at this point, the mere thought of having an orgasm getting you excited. Your clit had been aching for his touch for days.
“Suddenly eager, are we?”, he teased. His lips started pressing soft kisses on your neck, your back arching off the bed in response. Your hand tangled in his messy hair.
“Do you have a tampon in?”
“Geez, yes, Joe. Oh my god”. You felt embarrassed at his words. He was so blunt, obviously not at all disgusted by the whole situation. Joe hummed against you neck, enjoying how you were squirming under his touch. His fingers started dragging down your torso, avoiding your sensitive breasts, and falling to rest just above the waistline of your shorts. Teasing, sucking onto the skin on your neck. He dipped them underneath, immediately finding your clit, making you gasp. You were so turned on, even the lightest of touches sending you into overdrive. The pleasure was so intense you found yourself arching of the bed, rutting against his fingers. The coil in your stomach instantly tightening, lightning bolts shooting up your entire body. Whimpers leaving your mouth.
“So responsive, Y/N”, Joe muttered against your neck. You could feel him smirk, but you were only concentrated on his fingers. You were so close already, clit twitching under his touch. He touched you with just the right amount of pressure, drawing perfect circles on the sensitive nub. “Are you gonna cum already?”. Out of breath, you found yourself not being able to answer him. However, the loud moan leaving your lips was all the confirmation he needed. “It´s okay, babe, you can let go. I´ve got you”, he whispered. That was exactly what you did. Your fingers dug into his scalp as you felt the knot in your stomach start to unravel. Your clit twitched, pleasure washing over you wave after wave. Joe´s name left your mouth along with a string of curse-words, eyes rolling back into your head. The orgasm was so intense, you didn’t even know what to do with yourself, legs shaking uncontrollably.
“Wow, that was quick”, Joe laughed. His breathing was short, the bulge in his pants uncomfortably tight. As your eyes fluttered open, you turned to look at your boyfriend. His eyes were blown wide, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. You placed a kiss onto his lips as your hand fell to rest on his bulge, earning a whimper from him. “Shut up”, you mumbled into his chest, embarrassed. Trying to regain your steady breath.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”, you asked as you slipped your hand underneath his joggers. His breath hitched in his throat as you wrapped your hand around his aching shaft. Desperately nodding his head.
Pulling your hand out, you sat up to discard your hoodie along with your shorts. Joe´s hands were all over you, caressing your every curve. He placed open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, your neck, your jawline. Humming contently, you pulled of his shorts and boxers. His cock sprung up to hit his stomach. Warm and heavy. He pulled off his own shirt, before sliding your panties down your legs. His hand immediately inching its way towards your heat. You arched into his touch, before remembering that you still had the tampon in.
“Wait, I have to go and, you know, sort myself out”, you said as you pulled his hand away. Joe seemed to know what you were getting at, shooting you a smile as you headed for the bathroom. Your entire body felt hot, aching for his touch again.
You discarded of your tampon, grabbing a towel, and walked back into the bedroom. Joe was sprawled out on the bed, one hand lazily stroking himself. Your mouth watered at the sight, your knees growing weak.
“How do you want to do this then?”, you asked hesitantly. You really didn’t want to make a mess of the bed, and certainly not of Joe. The imagine of him covered in your fluids sending a shiver down your back. “I think maybe you should be on top”, you continued, walking over to him. That would at least make it a bit less messy.
“Come here, Y/N”, he beamed and rolled onto his side. He opened his arms and gestured for you to come lay in his grasp. You laid the towel down on the bed, before crawling over to him. Leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips, you yelped as he flipped you over, your back against his front. He wrapped both of his arms around you, holding you close.
“This way?”, he asked, placing kisses on your shoulder blade. You nodded, walls clenching at the feeling of his hard cock poking into your backside. Joe lifted your leg, scootching closer to your heat. Reaching down, you lined him up with your entrance. “At least we don´t have to worry about lube this time”, Joe snickered against your shoulder, making warmth spread across your entire body. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.
“Joe, I´m sorry it´s gross”, you whined. You were about to pull away when he thrusted his hips, sinking his cock into your slick entrance. The sensation was out of this world, a gasp leaving your mouth. You were so sensitive, both from your previous orgasm and your time of the month. You could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock sliding against your walls as he slid in inch for inch.
“Fuck, I love you so much, Y/N”, Joe moaned as he bottomed you out. Those three words never failed to send a smile to your face, butterflies going wild in your stomach. He had said it only a few weeks ago, but you were positive he meant it. You could see it in his eyes.
“P-please, Joe. Can you mo-move?”. You were impatient, craving the feeling of him filling you up again and again.
He nodded, pulling out before sliding back in. Moans left your mouth as he continued his slow pace.
“It feels so good, princess. So tight for me”, Joe whined. The frequency of his thrusts increased, sending bolts of pleasure through your entire body. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder blade. The hand holding your leg up definitely creating bruises. The room filled with slick noises, along with the quiet whimpers and moans leaving the pair of you.
You felt your leg start to ache and by the heavy breathing Joe was doing, you could tell the position was straining for him too. “Wait, let´s switch positions, Joe”, you whimpered. He hummed, ducking under your leg to take you missionary instead. The new angle causing him to hit your g-spot. You let out a gasp, a smirk forming on Joe´s face as he started thrusting again. His now free hand started rubbing tight circles on your clit, you back arching off the bed.
“Better?”, he asked as he leant down to give you a kiss. You hummed as his lips met yours, your arms wrapping around his back, holding him close as you felt yourself nearing climax again. Joe was too, his breathing uneven, thrusts growing sloppy and less precise. “Gonna cum for me, Y/N?”, he asked, pulling back from your lips slightly. His breath hot against your mouth. Not trusting your voice at this point, you nodded before pulling him to you again. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to finish as well. With a particularly angled thrust combined with his fingers working your clit, you were pushed over the edge. White, hot pleasure shot through your body as you felt Joe twitch inside you. He kept rubbing your clit, cock stilling as a warm sensation coated your walls. Your legs were shaking, fingers digging into his back. Your name left his mouth along with a string of “I love you”s  as he held you close. Riding out both your orgasms.
You stayed like that for a while. Joe on top of you, still inside. Your fingers traced circles on his back, enjoying just having him close. He placed soft kisses to your neck and jaw as you felt your eyelids growing heavy. “You can´t fall asleep yet, babe”, Joe hummed. You knew he was right, but you just felt so loved at the moment. His body hot against yours, dopey smiles on both your faces. You could stay like this for the entire day, but the slick feeling between your thighs kept reminding you that you had to shower.
As Joe slowly slid out, a hiss left your mouth at the sensation. He sat back on his knees, a grimace covered his face. “Not to alarm you babe, but it looks like a fucking murder scene down here”, he laughed. Your eyes went wide, hands flowing up to cover your face. You were absolutely mortified. Joe wasn´t however. He pulled your hands away and placed a soft kiss onto your lips.
“Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing”, you muttered once he pulled away. Reaching up to wipe his hair that was matted to his forehead away, he beamed at you. Butterflies going crazy in your stomach. “I love you, Joe. Thank you for doing this”
“I would say the pleasure was all mine, but from the sounds you were making I´m pretty sure you enjoyed this as well”, he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Giggling, you rolled your eyes.
“Shut up”, you mumbled, punching his chest lightly.
“Do you feel better?”. Joe caressed your cheek, genuine concern flooding his eyes. You leant into the touch, nodding your head. If not completely gone, the cramps had definitely gotten lighter. You grabbed his hand, placing a soft kiss onto the back of it, earning a huge smile from your boyfriend.
“Come on, babe, let´s get you cleaned up”, he stood up, holding out his hand for you. Trying not to let your eyes drift down to the mess you´ve made on both Joe and the bed, you went to stand up. Cringing from the slick feeling between your thighs.  “We can act out the shower scene from Psycho”
Masterlist
Permanent taglist (open, let me know if you want to be added or removed): @tanya-is-dead, @meghans-corner, @killah-queenz, @miss-tayylor, @sunflower-borhap-boys, @seasexnsun, @valkyrie-and-lokis-daughter, @joes-milk, @pantamemes, @unicornofdanger, @monochromedeacon, @pushthetide21
1K notes · View notes
mintymiknow · 5 years
Text
Little Push [Felix]
Summary: [Best-friends-to-lovers; Non-Idol AU] Your little crush on your best friend never bothered you, so when you went to the amusement park with Felix and other friends, you weren’t expecting anything out of the blue. Of course, amusement parks are also the perfect way to give certain people a certain push [WC: approx. 3.7k words]
Genre: Fluff
A/N: Side Effects just wrecked me and I’m still recovering from that masterpiece of a bop. Hope y’all like some Lixie fluff~
Tumblr media
GIF credit here!
Amusement park trips? Yes please. It was something you’d never get tired of, no matter what age you were already. Child or adult, you enjoyed spending the day riding different attractions and screaming your lungs out for the thrill of it all. It was like you were letting off some burdens and worries with every shout.
So, when Bang Chan asked you if you wanted to come with them to the amusement park, you immediately agreed. Amusement parks were a million times better when you went with friends, and by “friends”, those were your nine very chaotic, loud yet sweet friends. Oh, and it just so happens that one guy from those nine friends was your crush. Perfect, right?
Tumblr media
“Minho won’t stop tickling me!” Jeongin exclaims from the very back of the car.
Minho giggles, “It’s ‘cause you’re so cute!”
Seungmin happily grins before joining Minho in tickling the youngest. Jeongin tries his best to fend off the older males, causing Hyunjin to document the whole thing on his phone.
You sat between Felix and Jisung, though the latter was too busy arguing with Changbin about which ride to avoid. You turn to Felix and ask, “Are you willing to ride all the attractions?”
Felix laughs, “I guess. As long as none of you make me ride it by myself.”
“Maybe we will.” you smirk.
“Oh, no.” he shakes his head, “I’ll tell Chan to leave you at the park then.”
“Ok, that’s mean.” you laugh.
Even if you had a crush on Felix, you appreciated the fact that you could still behave normally around him without being so flustered and awkward. Maybe it was because Felix was oblivious, but perhaps it was better that way. You’d hate it if things suddenly changed between the two of you as Felix was a friend who was always there for you.
Felix suddenly giggles as he says, “Ok, how about we have a bet? The one who gets scared the most will buy the other person…ice cream?”
“Ok, sounds good,” you smirk, “because I’m definitely going to win.”
“In your dreams.” Felix laughs.
Little did the two of you know, Chan and Woojin were craftily smiling in the front seats.
Tumblr media
When you arrived at the amusement park, Chan made sure to lay some rules that, of course, wouldn’t be followed in the end. “I want to ride the Viking!” Jeongin beams as he lays his eyes on the swinging ship.
“Me too, me too!” you clap happily.
Minho and Jisung share nervous glances before puffing their chests out. “Ok, let’s go.” Minho declares, marching forward.
Jisung follows suit, leading the group towards the Viking ride. You cross your arms and turn to Felix, “So, the bet starts now?”
Felix laughs at this, “As long as you’re ready to lose.”
He happily giggles before pulling you along with him. You sit next to each other a few seats away from the middle. “I’m ready for this!” he exclaims, causing you to chuckle.
“You’re both scaredy cats!” teases Seungmin from the higher seats.
You and Felix protest at the same time, “We are not!”
“Sure, of course.” Woojin laughs.
The ride suddenly comes to life with a squeak, and you and Felix exclaim in surprise. You laugh at him as he grips the handle bar tighter, but that smile is wiped off your face when the ride starts swinging higher. It was Felix’s turn to laugh at you; of course, he was still screaming. Your shouting mixed with his, Changbin’s, and Hyunjin’s, which made it much funnier. “Y/n! You’re so scared right now!” Felix half-shouts, half-laughs, “You’re losing this bet!”
“Says who? You’re pretty scared yourself!” you counter.
After a few more minutes, the Viking slows to a stop. Jisung is obviously frozen in his spot as Minho laughs it off. “That was fun.” Jeongin beams.
“Yeah,” Chan laughs, “and it seems some of us grabbed certain opportunities.”
He gestures towards you and Felix, still sitting on the ride’s seats. You and Felix had clasped each other’s hands rather tightly and leaned closer towards each other throughout the ride without realizing it. When you both notice all the eyes on you, you immediately let go of each other and hastily get off. With reddened cheeks, Felix sheepishly smiles, “Y/n was more terrified, right?”
Changbin shrugs and ruffles the younger male’s hair, “I don’t know, but you both seemed terrified enough to cling to each other.”
“Everybody does that.” you pout, trying to act as if you weren’t the most flustered person on the planet. Of course, you were failing miserably.
Seungmin mumbles lowly, “Just date already.”
Hyunjin doesn’t bother to hide his snickering, causing you and Felix to blush even more. Woojin waves his hands around, “Ok, enough of that for now. Shall we ride that next?”
The eldest points at the Hurricane ride [Hurricane is a ride at Everland, by the way!], and everyone agrees to go on. Of course, you and Felix were shouting the loudest again – maybe with the exception of Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung. When the ride finished, the group didn’t hesitate to move on to the next ride, and you weren’t sure if they noticed that you and Felix were holding hands. Again. Quite frankly, you didn’t know as well, only realizing it when a little child nearly ran into your interlocked hands. You, however, did not miss the small, shy smile that tugged at Felix’s lips. Perhaps you busted a smile as well.
After going on rides that had loops, intensive drops, face-slapping speeds, and sharp turns, Jisung requested to ride the more “relaxed” rides. The ’00 liners went away to ride the carousel for fun, while Minho, Changbin and Chan preoccupied themselves with the game booths, eager to win some sort of prize. “I’ll stay and rest for a while,” Woojin chuckles, “You kids can ride that baby airplane ride.”
Felix shakes his head, “That’s reserved for Jeongin only.”
“Yeah. Jeongin can ride that himself.” you laugh.
The youngest wags his finger in front of yours and Felix’s faces and cheekily smiles, “Maybe, but you and Felix are free to ride the Tunnel of Love. It’s right there.”
You don’t miss how Woojin bursts into laughter, or how Felix is at a loss for words. “That’s boring.” you say after nearly choking on nothing.
Jeongin shrugs, “Well, I’m going to check on the others.”
Jeongin happily walks away to the game booths, leaving you with Felix and Woojin. The older male nonchalantly shrugs while taking a sip form his drink, “And you two? Ferris Wheel perhaps?”
Felix laughs, “That’s so cliché.”
Woojin smiles, “And?”
“No.” you and Felix say at the same time, resulting in Woojin raising his eyebrow in the most teasing manner.
“Let’s look at the other games. I think I saw a cute stuffed toy prize somewhere there.” Felix nods his head opposite of where Chan and the others were.
You nod, “Alright.”
“Bye bye!” Woojin waves before snickering to himself.
Tumblr media
You walk side-by-side with Felix, a stick of cotton candy in your hand. “How’s everything so far?” he suddenly asks.
You chuckle, “Taking a break was a good idea. I feel like my spirit has left me with all those rides.”
“See!” Felix suddenly exclaims with a very wide grin, “You are scared! You’re the one who’s more afraid!”
“No, that’s not the case!” you laugh, pointing at him, “Bet you’re just as terrified as me!”
“Noooo.” Felix wags his finger and mischievously smirks, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
You sigh and pretend to act tired, “We need to settle this once and for all, Felix. Only one person can remain standing.”
“I agree,” Felix imitates your serious demeanor, “but first, let me play this game.”
Felix turns his attention to the booth wherein you’d have to shoot the target to win a prize. “Oh, go Felix!” you cheer beside him while waving your cotton candy.
Felix laughs and smiles. In a split second, his eyes narrow sharply in concentration, and his deep voice is merely a whisper as he mumbles something like “steady, aim”. You turn your eyes to him and observe the slightest aspects. His eyes would get sharper and darker when he was concentrating on something, and undeniably, you found that sexy. His blonde hair fell just above his eyes, framing his perfect face in all the right ways. His plump lips were flat like a line as he focused his eyes on the target. If you weren’t his friend and saw him for the first time, you’d think he was the scary, cold, and asshole kind of person when in fact, he was the complete opposite.
Felix’s demeanor went on a 180-degree change as he pulled the trigger and hit the target. His eyes widened in glee as he exclaimed and threw his arms up in the air. “I got it! I got it, y/n!” he laughs.
“Woohoo!” you laugh with him.
You do a double high-five and without much thought, his fingers intertwine with yours as the two of you jump around in circles while shouting “yay”. The man at the booth chuckles at the sight and motions to the prizes on display, “Take your pick, young man.”
Felix scans the prizes before his bright brown eyes settle on one. He points at a koala stuffed toy, “I’ll take that one.”
The man happily hands it over to Felix and waves at the two of you as you walk away. While casually walking around the amusement park, your heart wouldn’t seem to stop pounding against your chest. Felix felt the same sensation, and it was something he wasn’t used to. This is exactly what you did to him. Only you could make him feel that way, and if he was being honest with himself, he was fine with it. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.
He suddenly breaks the silence, “Y/n.”
“Hmm?”
“Here, this is for you actually.”
You turn to him, only to be met with the koala stuffed toy being given to you. “But you won it?” you tilt your head.
“I know,” Felix smiles, “but I won it for you.”
“Really? Are you serious?” you don’t believe what you were hearing, but you were 100% sure that your smile was wider than the ocean.
“Yup.” Felix chuckles.
You take the stuffed toy from him and cuddle it close to your chest, “Thank you. I’ll name him Lixie in honor of you.”
Felix heartily laughs, “Sounds cute. Now, you have a remembrance for this day with us.”
“I have a lot of memories for this day,” you shyly grin, “but this will surely stick with me for a long time.”
“I’m glad.” Felix smiles.
The two of you are smiling at each other in the middle of the walkway, and something about the moment was magical – ethereal even. There weren’t any imaginary sparkles or radiant glowing, but the bliss and joy you felt by simply being with Felix was more than magical for you. Felix could get lost in your eyes and stare at your infectious smile all day, every day and would never get tired of it.
Just then, your group of friends catch up, and Minho smirks, “They ditched us and went on a date.”
“Hey!” you and Felix suddenly burst.
Felix mumbles, “You guys went away ahead of us. We were chilling with Woojin not too long ago, right, hyung?”
Woojin innocently smiles and points at another attraction, “Are you all up for a little spook? Let’s go to the haunted house!”
“No no no,” Hyunjin laughs, “Felix and y/n should go! As a dare!”
“And how is that going to benefit us?” you inquire.
Hyunjin shrugs playfully just as Seungmin raises his hand, “If you and Felix agree to go as a pair, I will treat you both to the most delicious parfaits ever.”
“Tempting.” you nod and think for a moment.
Felix, on the other hand, is already grabbing your wrist and proudly nodding, “We’ll go! For the sake of parfaits!”
“Wait, what?” you blink your eyes.
But before you can protest, Chan is pushing you and Felix to the entrance of the house. “Bye, enjoy the adventure! Don’t do anything stupid, ok?”
The employee at the haunted house ushers you both inside, but before the door closes, you hear Jisung shout, “Tell her how you feel, my man!”
Any thoughts about that statement goes out the window as the actors in the haunted house pop out of holes in the walls.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Your scream is high-pitched compared to Felix’s lower shouts, but your hearts were leaping like mad frogs nonetheless. While walking across a makeshift bridge, a few of the zombie actors claw from below, causing you to jump. “FELIX!”
Your actions surprise Felix who lets out a quick scream of his own. “Y/n, you’re scaring me!”
“That’s cause I am scared!”
“Aha!” Felix points at you, “I told you you’d be more – ”
He doesn’t get to finish, because at the end of the bridge, a bloodied bride shrieks at the two of you, causing both you and Felix to hug each other and shout at the same time. You squeeze the male tighter as the bride walks closer to you both. “No, stop!” you shout.
Felix waves his hand around, “Ah, no!”
With your arms still around each other, you and Felix slowly inch your way to the next room. Once you reach the room, you both release each other. “We do not speak of that.” Felix lowly whispers.
You nod and clear your throat, “I agree.”
When Felix takes a step forward, you immediately cling to his arm, “Wait for me!”
Felix can’t help but laugh despite his nerve-wrecked state, “Ok, ok. Just stay close to me.”
You’ll admit that he got your heart fluttering, as usual, with that statement. You try to hide the smile that curls on your lips, but seeing as to how Felix was happily grinning as well, you end up just letting the smile unfold.
Tumblr media
You both continue to walk through the haunted house, screaming every now and then. You would often hit Felix’s arm on impulse, and the male would shake your shoulders when frightened. On certain occasions, you’d tackle Felix or use him as a human shield. Poor boy was just as scared as you were, but he was being manly. For you. On the last stretch of the attraction, your hand found its place within Felix’s own, and he reassuringly gave it a squeeze. You focused on your hands instead of the scary blood-painted walls. When the final actor jumped out, you screamed just as Felix shouted a quick “YAH”. He, however, also gripped your hand tighter as if to say “It’s ok, I’m right here”. You gave him a light squeeze as well, acknowledging his adorable, unspoken message.
Once you both made it outside, you were sweating from screaming, running, flailing your hands around, and jumping. Your hearts were slowly calming down, but you definitely felt the adrenaline wearing down. The other boys meet you both outside, a few teasing smirks on their faces. “They had fun, don’t worry.” Woojin laughs as he gestures to your still-intertwined hands.
You and Felix look at the same time. You were just about to pull your hand away when Felix held it tighter with just enough force to keep your hand in his. You look at him in surprise before turning to the 8 other boys, completely speechless. You open your mouth to speak, but the words don’t seem to formulate. Chan looks at you as if he was expecting something, so you panic and turn your attention to Felix who is glaring at Minho and Hyunjin, his cheeks pink again. Chan clears his throat, “Ok, we need to be going back soon, but what’s an amusement park trip without the Ferris wheel ride?”
“Yeah, of course.” you stutter.
“I’m going with Chan, Woojin, and Jeongin.” Seungmin says.
Hyunjin raises his hand as well, “I’ll be with Changbin, Minho, and Jisung then.”
“Y/n and Felix can go together.” Woojin smiles, and you don’t seem to protest. Maybe you wanted this anyway.
“Hyung.” Felix turns to Chan who gently smiles at the younger male.
Chan pats his back softly before nodding his head towards the Ferris wheel. You don’t hear it – since Woojin is already pulling you along – but Chan whispers to Felix, “You can do it.”
When everyone is in their respective Ferris wheel cars [or do y’all call it cabins, tubs, capsules, gondolas, or pods?], you and Felix sit next to each other. You find yourself fiddling with the koala stuffed toy as Felix looks at his shoes. The silence was suffocating; it was like there was something blocking you from Felix. It was like you couldn’t breathe unless someone said something.
And Felix was the first one to do so. With a small smile, he says, “I’m sorry the boys are doing this.”
“Oh, no, it’s alright,” you nervously chuckle and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “It’s not like…I’m completely against it.”
“Really?” Felix suddenly sounds surprised as he sits up straight.
You chuckle and stare at the stuffed toy, “Yeah. How do I put it? I’m just…happy right now. Really happy.”
Felix chuckles louder this time, a wider grin gracing his features, “So am I.”
The male looks out towards the sky – the pink hues made his face look softer than usual, even going as far as softening his sharp features. The city skyline dazzled below, building lights flicking on one-by-one. Such lights were reflected in Felix’s deep eyes causing them to look more sparkly than usual. You took his whole appearance in and couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person. You were sitting in the Ferris wheel with someone as beautiful, unreal, and magical as Lee Felix.
He turns his attention to you, eyes boring into your own. You gently smile and tilt your head, “What’s wrong?”
Felix takes a deep breath and rubs his palms on his thighs. A nervous laugh escapes his lips as he shakes his head, “I want to tell you something, but I don’t know how.”
You shyly nod before prompting him to go on, “I’m all ears.”
“Ok, here I go.” Felix sighs before steeling himself and taking both your hands in his. The action catches you off-guard, but you control yourself and maintain eye contact with him. Felix goes on, “Y/n, I like you. I really, really like you. Like for real. Like like.”
Felix had started to babble and look away from you, something he did when he was really nervous. Felix was such a pure-hearted person. He was just an open-book who wasn’t afraid of showing his true self. Maybe naïve, but definitely genuine and precious to you. Playful, childish, and loud as he was, he was also a very supportive person who would let you hold his hand when you were sad. He would keep you company when things got rough. He’d be willing to listen to your ranting. He made you laugh like no one could. Just hearing him speak or seeing him smile was enough for you.
“Felix.”
Felix snapped back to face you. A giddy smile plasters itself on your face as you respond, “I like you too. A lot.”
“I – what? You do?” he asks to double-check he heard right.
“Why are you so surprised?” you giggle, “Of course I do.”
“Wow.” Felix says before laughing and leaning back, “I didn’t think this day could have gotten any more perfect!”
You squeeze his hand tighter, “Is that why you kept holding my hand throughout the rides and haunted house?”
Felix smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “Yes. I just wanted to.”
“And that went by unnoticed by the others.” you say sarcastically.
Felix shrugs, “They planned this all. Of course they’d notice.”
“Felix, what?”
He laughs again, “I told Chan about my feelings for you, and then he and the other boys came up with the plan to come here with you just so I could confess.”
“Why would we need to be here though?” you ask curiously.
“I didn’t know how to express it,” Felix explains, “so Woojin suggested that we go to the amusement park. I mean, it makes sense, right? A lot of…couple-y stuff go on in amusement parks? You said it yourself. I kept holding your hand.”
“I’ve liked you for a while, and the boys were dying whenever I chickened out. Chan said I just needed ‘a little push’ to actually confess to you. What better way to give me a push by making us go through extreme rides, a haunted house and now the Ferris wheel…together?” Felix finishes, a bright smile tugging at his lips.
You let out an amused chuckle before saying, “Well, if that’s the case, it worked then.”
You and Felix gaze into each other’s eyes for the hundredth time that day. He leaned close enough for your foreheads to touch. His eyes traveled along your face, memorizing every feature – from your thick eyelashes to your rosy lips. You did the same, admiring the way his freckles painted his beautiful skin. Felix places a chaste kiss on your lips, and it was nothing like you’ve ever imagined. His lips tasted sugary as were yours, all thanks to the cotton candy you both ate earlier. Short and sweet as the kiss was, you knew you wouldn’t forget the feeling, the taste, the magic. When you pull away, you both shyly giggle and smile at each other.
The ride is nearing the its end, and people are getting off one-by-one. As your turn approaches, you playfully grin at Felix, “Ready for the others to tease us?”
You gesture to the Ferris wheel’s passenger car parallel to yours and Felix’s. Chan is waving his arms around like a cheerleader. Below their car, Jisung jumps up and down, causing the car to sway with Minho having the fright of his life.
Felix wraps an arm around you and smiles, “They did give me the push. I’ll let them pass for now.”
You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for your turn to get off the ride. You certainly loved amusement park trips.
344 notes · View notes
justjessame · 4 years
Text
A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass Chapter 28: Cravings, Exhaustion, and a Healthy Dose of RAGE...Or, Hadn't Callie's Pregnancy Been Too Idyllic?
Did my life change once I became Negan’s Mrs? Not really. Not openly. He didn’t force our people to kneel for me, not that he didn’t fucking offer the ‘honor’ to me. I’m not entirely sure what look crossed my face when he gave me the option, but seeing his grin grow, it must have been pretty fucking funny.
Laura found the entire situation funnier than I did. Teasing me with “Mrs. Negan” every now and then to see my glare flash at her. I’d found a friend in my head guard, and she got far more leeway with the teasing than anyone else would have dared to try. Friendships blossom as a woman grows to the size of a barge and she has to ask for help every time she wants to get up from a seated or prone position, I tell ya. And Laura was becoming very skilled at craning my ass up from wherever I’d dare to sit.
As the months continued to flicker past, and our little monster continued to grow inside of me, the anticipation grew. Along with my hormonal mood swings.
I’d given up on the pregnancy book. I’d decided that learning MORE about the horrors that awaited me at the end of this never ending tunnel were better left as a surprise.
Negan had thrown himself into build a nursery mode. He declared the nursery off limits to me. Promising that as soon as he was finished, I’d be welcome to see the majestic room that would be fit for our little demonic offspring.
The problem with that edict was this: the date was looming near and I still hadn’t gotten invited inside. That and the CONSTANT fucking noise. Pounding, growling, cussing, and once I even swore I heard him carrying a full blown screaming match inside. I was worried, not only fearing that our baby was going to have to sleep in a damn drawer in our dresser, but also because I couldn’t fucking rest with all the fucking noise. Not a fucking nap to be had, and there were fucking nights that he’d wear my ass out from multiple shaking orgasms, only to leave our bed and start up again.
I wondered, while he was pounding in the nursery at all hours day and night, who the fuck was running the Sanctuary?
I shouldn't have worried about that. Laura laughingly told me that he was running the whole damn place from the nursery. Using the walkie, hell having meetings, all while working hard to build the furniture for the baby nightmare.
One evening, after we’d had a dinner that I’d fixed in our own kitchen, Negan seemed to realize how damn huge I was, how close to show time. I saw something fight across his features, but as fucking exhausted I was by the tiny bit of rest I was getting, I couldn’t fathom what it was.
“Baby girl,” his voice would always be one of my favorite parts of him, I swear. “Aren’t you supposed to be having weird cravings?” That’s what was flickering inside his mind? The fact that I wasn’t asking for pickles and ice cream?
I shrugged. “Not all women do.” I yawned and stood to collect our empty plates. He rose with me, rubbing that part of my back that was a constant knot. And I leaned into him, the length of me against the front of him. I swear, between the massage he was giving that damn knot, the scent of him, and his heat, I drifted off standing up.
I woke up in our bed and knew that I had fallen asleep standing up. I was curled into his warmth, his arms wrapped around me, and my head on his chest. I was just cuddling deeper when I realized he wasn’t asleep. Propping my chin on his chest, I could see his eyes on me in the dim light from the bathroom light he’d left on.
“What are you staring at?” I asked, my voice dry from sleep. His lips curled in a smile, those damn dimples deepening.
“The mother of my baby.” He answered, his hand coming up to touch my face. “The exhausted mother of my baby.” The pad of his thumb brushed under my eye, touching the dark circles I wore lately. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping?”
I chuckled. “Because, Negan,” I dropped my head back to his chest, snuggling into his t-shirt. “I didn’t want to stop whatever progress you were making in the nursery.” I heard him inhale. Oh, now you realize you made enough fucking noise to raise the dead.
And then he chuckled, low and deep, causing something to stir deep inside of me. And I wasn’t talking about our little devil spawn. I felt his lips touch my hair, and I could hear his smile in his voice. “My progress?” Another chuckle. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure progress is the right fucking word.”
I considered what he was saying. Did that fucking mean that NOTHING was built? That our baby was literally going have to sleep in a fucking dresser drawer? Shit. “Not going well?” I was shocked at how unconcerned I managed to sound. Because I was more than fucking concerned, let me assure you.
“Nothing makes sense in the fucking instructions.” He said, building momentum as he went. “So I opened a different box, a different fucking piece of the picture, and those fucking instructions made less fucking sense.” I kept my face down, hiding the shock, and the freak out that I felt building. “Which made me open another box-” Dear fucking God, I could see it, the entire fucking nursery wall to wall with pieces of everything with no discernible fucking rhyme or reason. Fuck. “It’s chaotic there. Fucking chaos.” I could hear that it wasn’t exactly something he was proud of, that he was as irritated with himself as I was freaked out by the thought of Baby Negan sleeping in a fucking drawer. “And I’ve had my best fucking people up here, trying to fucking make sense of it. I fucking swear the instructions aren’t in fucking English, or Spanish, or fucking a language known to man.”
Fuck. We’re screwed, I thought, directing the fear at Satan’s grandkid. You better be fucking small, little one, because that fucking drawer is gonna be a tight fit.
“We could always just borrow some stuff from Alexandria.” I was careful NOT to say ‘from Dad’. Negan’s ego at failing in this ONE task he’d set for himself would fucking go into overload at the mere mention of my dad saving the fucking day.
I felt him to fucking rigid under me. Fuck. “I don’t think that’s necessary, princess.” Sure, it’s not fucking necessary at fucking all. I’m sure the baby will love to lay in a mass of wood and screws. I mean, the pieces are all there, they just aren’t in the right order. It’s the thought that counts, right?
As I lay with my husband, in our bed, letting my exhaustion win and pull me under, my final thought was of our tiny little devil, horns and all, smiling up at me from my underwear drawer. All those fucking pieces of lace and satin cradling the tiny red body, and the little forked tongue flicked out at me.
 No, I don’t fucking actually think that my little nugget is a demon. I woke up and remembered what I had drifted off to, and wanted to smack myself. Vivid fucking dreams were a really shitty part of this pregnancy, but that one fucking pissed me off. I may tease, internally, Negan’s biological father’s identity, but our baby had just as much me as him, so I was fucking certain that they would come out looking human. Hell, Negan looked like a fucking walking wet dream, so I had good cause to feel confident that we’d made a pretty baby.
It was exhaustion. Coupled with irritation and fear of our lack of completed nursery. And my internal urge to compare my husband to his fallen angel father didn’t help.
When I woke up, Negan wasn’t in bed, and I was tangled up in ALL of the blankets. Which added exponentially to my already unwieldy self. I was groaning, and fighting to get free and up, when he peeked out of the bathroom. I could see his smirk, but I also saw him coming to free me, so I didn’t bite his hand when he started loosening me from the mess I’d created during sleep. Once the blankets and sheets released me, he gave me his hands and pulled me to a sitting position. Ugh. I would need a literal crane soon. I fucking knew it.
Negan sat beside me, pulling me into his side. “Feeling better?” He tipped my chin so he could look into my face. His thumb ran under my eyes again, and I wondered if the circles were less raccoon-like yet.
I nodded, smiling up at him. I could go to bed feeling so fucking irritable at his stubbornness, but wake up and see him and feel far better than I should. My hand went to my huge bump and I felt our baby nudge me. Negan’s hand joined mine, and there it was again. A little push. A nudge to say “yeah, I’m awake too.”
“Active today,” Negan whispered, kissing my temple. “Seems our little one isn’t as opposed to mornings as their mama is.” His eyes, such a gorgeous shade of honey brown today, were sparkling.
I smirked up at him. “Hey, their mama doesn’t complain nearly as much as she used to about waking up early.” I reminded him, and watched his eyes darken at the memories of all the ways he’d taken to convince me. “You know, husband of mine, I think that you and me, and this destroyed bed could take a few minutes to remind me how fucking amazing mornings can be.” I raised an eyebrow, and watched him consider it.
“Shit, what I wouldn’t fucking GIVE to give into you right fucking now, wife.” His smile grew. “BUT,” he stood up and held out his hands for me to take. “You have a previous engagement this morning.”
My nose scrunched up as he pulled me upright. “You’re turning me DOWN? For sex?” I felt a glare form on my face. Damn it, I wanted to, NOW. “And what stupid fucking engagement trumps me, and you, NAKED?”
He laughed, the boisterous one that bubbled around him. “Your face, Callie, is fucking priceless when you’re denied.” He shook his head and tugged me to the bathroom. “Nothing trumps you naked, princess, nothing.” He started to undress me, tugging my tank over my head, shucking my sweats off my legs. “Except,” he stopped me reaching for him. “Your check up with the doctor.” Fuck.
He pushed me toward the shower streaming warm water that he’d set as I woke up. Ugh. I hadn’t paid attention when he’d rescued me from the bed, but he’d already dressed. Which meant, I was going to have a lonely fucking shower. Yuck. He saw my pout and gave another bark of laughter. Asshole.
“Just think, darlin’. The last time we held off, we nearly fucking destroyed a wall.” And with that fucking reminder, he walked out of our bathroom whistling.
 I showered, growling about the indignity of having to do it solo. Of being denied the ONE thing that made mornings fucking bearable. Of the fact that he seemed so fucking unaffected by the loss of it. Of me. Of sex. Of sex WITH me.
When I stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel he’d set out for me, I was still steaming. Seriously? I FINALLY got rest. I was FINALLY fully awake. And he’d fucking say “nope?” Fucker. Asshole. I kept up a steady stream of names and rage as I dried off. As I brushed through my wet hair. As I braided my hair. When I stomped into our bedroom and found it empty, I literally growled. Out loud.
Grabbing a pair of leggings. Throwing on a bra and a loose fitting tank so my bump wouldn’t be restricted. Sliding my feet into the same shoes that I’d worn last because they were easy to reach, I kept up my internal cursing of my husband. The father of my little demon seed. I knew he’d be in the kitchen. After all, it was morning and I had to fucking eat.
And there he was, whistling as he put food on a plate for me. Turning to smile at me, dimples full blown and looking supremely fucking content. Asshole. “Come have your breakfast, sweetheart.”
Fuck you, I thought, but I took a seat when he held out my chair. I picked up my fork and started to eat. Not waiting for him to join me. Screw him. Screw our morning ritual. Screw the fucking birds and the sun and Dr. Carson and his fucking groping hands that he needed to use to make sure baby demon seed was where they were supposed to be. Just fucking screw everything.
Yes, I was being irrational. Of course some tiny part of the rational me, the one not overwhelmed by hormones jacked up by an alien invader knew that. But that part was being smothered by the other part. The irrational hell bitch who wanted her morning orgasm like normal people wanted their morning coffee.
I chewed through my entire breakfast in silence. I didn’t even notice if he joined me. If he tried to make conversation. My entire being was focused on my fucking rage. He’d asked the night before why I didn’t have any weird fucking cravings. Well apparently my fucking weird fucking craving was HIM. Fuck.
3 notes · View notes
argylemikewheeler · 5 years
Note
mike sort of gets angry about small things and has mini temper tantrums sometimes. like one day mike will be going off about someone at work who has the worst attitude and will’s learned that one of the only ways to calm him down is to just plant soft kisses on his face as he’s yelling. often times will has to shut mike up by kissing him. and mike knows exactly what will is doing but he never stops him.
“You aren’t going to fucking believe what happened today!” Mike bust through Will’s front door without knocking, not that he ever needed to. Will could hear him stomping up to the door, rattling the planks of the porch.
“You know I love a good work story.” Will said calmly, placing his sketchbook aside. He’d been working on his most recent commission, waiting for Mike to return from his shift at the mall. Work hadn’t been going well since the first day. Will was sure it was a combination of Mike’s lack of interest in the service industry, the constant interaction, and the fact that he was using the job to avoid being home as much as possible. It was wearing on Mike, and it showed. More so in moments like this– temper flared and aggravation driving him all the way to Will’s house blind– than anywhere else.
“So, I’m trying to fucking do my fucking job, and this girl comes up to me–” Mike starts, pointing his finger off to the side, giving stage directions to the scene he was painting in front of Will. “And she asks me where she can find a fucking Sears.”
“Which does exist in the mall.” Will added quietly, trying to add logical footnotes to Mike’s story. He held a hand out to Mike and waved him over to the couch. Mike didn’t take it at first, still waving his hand around. Will grabbed it before he took an eye out and pulled him toward him. “Go ahead.”
“Yeah. It’s one of the main goddamn stores in the mall– she’s got to be blind to not know where it is. But I tell her. Because I have to. I have to be nice. Nice and scoop fucking ice cream. That’s all I do.” Mike grumbled. He fell back and plopped next to Will. He rested his head against the back of the couch and sighed loudly, with enough force to muster up a growl.
“You do a really good job with both, Mike.” Will said quietly, placing a hand on Mike’s arm. “You always give me a really big scoop with a beautiful smile.”
Mike sighed and let his head loll toward Will. “I have to be nice to you.”
“You don’t have to.” Will laughed, shaking his head. “But you do. Because you’re nice. And you scoop ice cream.”
“I still fucking hate it.” Mike muttered, clenching his jaw. “Because then, after I tell her, she goes away with all her friends.”
“Okay.” Will listens but begins slowly smoothing the collar of Mike’s uniform. “So she leaves. She’s gone.”
“And she comes. back. and she starts saying I gave her the wrong directions– which I didn’t! She just literally doesn’t know her rights from her goddamn lefts!” Mike sat up and waved his arms out, giving examples to the nonexistent audience.
“Mike, hey, come on.” Will said, placing a hand on Mike’s chest to try and pull him back in. Mike was upset about more than being told he gave bad directions. He was probably told he was bad at something a little more personal that morning at the breakfast table. Will didn’t have to ask, but he also didn’t want to know what had been said. Will had heard his own variation of it from Lonnie, he was sure.
“This girl starts standing at the counter, blocking the line behind her, and starts ripping into me– she’s like thirteen. I could have stepped on her if I wasn’t getting paid to be nice and scoop. fucking. ice cream.”
“Hey, come on.” Will moved on the couch and kneeled beside Mike. “You’re going to tire yourself out, Mike. We have dinner later.”
“She got away with it! Every other worker there heard her screaming at me for literally nothing and they didn’t do anything.” Mike continued, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
Will copied the action, running his fingers through Mike’s hair after him. He leaned in close to Mike to admire the timid curls trying to form along Mike’s ears. The very end of the curl tucked up and under Mike’s ear, resting on his cheek. Will nodded along to Mike’s continued ravings, but leaned in and placed a soft kiss just at the end of the curl. Mike’s jaw loosened, nearly going slack– if only for a moment.
“Oh did I tell you about my fucking boss?” Mike started again, jaw tight again.
“No, you didn’t.” Will said softly.
He moved up and placed his lips gently against Mike’s temple. He was on his way to a headache if he didn’t stop screaming and straining himself. Will kissed his temple again before trying to reach across his entire forehead.
“He told me that if I didn’t start putting in even more hours, he was going to start cutting my shifts down. Which doesn’t make any fucking sense! I’m only one person! I have a life, a sleep schedule, a boyfriend!” Mike cried. “I’d like to spend time with him. God knows I’m barely allowed that anymore.” Mike was allowed a secret runaway to Will’s house twice a week thanks to Nancy’s careful, consistent lying. “Everything is falling to fucking shit and all I–”
“Hey, it’s alright.” Will whispered, placing his hands on either side of Mike’s face. He placed a kiss over each of Mike’s furrowed eyebrows.
“What are you doing?” Mike sighed, his face relaxing, but mostly to change into confusion.
“I’m helping.”
“Is that what this is?” Mike said, lifting an eyebrow. “I still have a shitty fucking job and a shitty fucking family and a shitty fucking–”
“Would you shut up for three seconds?” He laughed.
Will pulled Mike’s face up to his own. Mike’s lips were still parted when they kissed, a word resting between them. It froze, the anger behind it dying the minute Will pulled him in. Sure, Mike had more to say and more to be upset about, but Will just wanted him to be quiet for just a moment. He wanted Mike’s mind to sputter and stall into a silence and allow him a reprieve from his own rumbling turmoil. Will never knew if it worked, but Mike at least always seemed to stop yelling afterward.
Mike sighed and blinked quickly as Will pulled away, bringing Will’s face into better focus. “My job sucks.” He said plainly.
“I know. It does.” Will agreed. He kept his hands on Mike’s face and let his thumbs gently brush over his cheeks. “But, you made it through today and now you’re with me.”
“I am. I am with you.” Mike nodded, a smile finally cracking his grimace. “Tell me about your day.”
“Finishing up that drawing for someone’s skateboard deck– one of Max’s friends.” Will said with a laugh. Mike lifted his eyebrows and looked down at the other cushions.
“Where is it? Can I see?”
“No, it’s not finished yet–”
“Oh, come on!”
“It’s not good enough yet!”
“Will, don’t fire me back up!” Mike teased, clenching his jaw. Will giggled and quickly placed another kiss on Mike’s lips. Mike placed his hands on Will’s waist and pulled him across his body. Will fell onto the opposite cushion with his legs stretched out over Mike’s lap, feet resting on his sketchpad.
“Not sure I like this angry side of you.” Will said with a quiet laugh.
“May I?” Mike’s hand grabbed Will’s foot by a toe and hovered before lifting it and grabbing the book.
“If you must.” Will waved toward the book with permission. “They wanted a Dessert Wasteland theme.”
“Clever.” Mike said, turning the book around before trying to find the right angle by craning his neck. “It’s good, Will. Really good.”
“Thank you.” Will said. There was still a certain tension in Mike’s voice, but Will wasn’t sure how much of that he could make go away with soft spoken words and kissing. He moved forward to sit on Mike’s lap, able to rest his head on his shoulder. Mike was looking at it upside down. “This way, Michael.”
“Oh.” He said, quickly flipping the book. “Still looks good– although now all these waves make sense. A-Are they waves? What is that?”
“Melted ice cream.” Will said, tracing the lines back to the vase-shaped glass sundae boat framing the corner design.
“Melted? What made you do that?” Mike said, furrowing his eyebrows again.
“Well, you see,” Will said, taking the book from Mike’s hands slowly. “I know this hothead that works at the Scoops Ahoy–” Mike sighed and let his head fall back again. Will giggled and threw his pad onto the coffee table. “I’m sorry. It was funnier to me.”
“Gotta kick me while I’m down, huh?” Mike said, sighing dramatically.
“Oh come on.” Will said, trying to pull on Mike’s collar and get him to level his head again. “Kiss to make it better?”
ao3
112 notes · View notes