#( hit me on the celly; watching belly • replies )

[queeniewriteshockey]

Stay the Night || Nolan + Reader || Part 3 Alt ending

Part 1,  Part 2, Part 3

Word Count: 1,852

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to post. I had to really figure out the direction this story was going to go. Originally it didn’t have a fluffy sweet ending but yesterday morning everything changed. Let me know if you want a p4. If not this story is finished. 

I hit 700 followers today. This is my celly! (i might do something else. I haven’t decided) 

You and sleep have always had an interesting relationship. It wasn’t always good, but, you supposed, it wasn’t always bad, either. There were times when sleep found you easier than other times. It was particularly easy to drift off and let the sandman guide you through the dream world when you were wrapped up in strong arms and the scent of oak and musk and vanilla filled your nose. It was as though your mind eased instantly with the warmth of the weight and the scent, allowing you to float off to a realm of your minds making.

You don’t remember much the moment your head hits the pillow and you’re pulled into Nolan’s arms. You were already so exhausted. Sleep was waiting for you on the fringe waiting for the moment your body found a comfortable spot and your mind stopped thinking. It was like falling through the air, effortless and gentle. The fear never came, not when the strong arms holding you were his.

It wasn’t a new feeling, being wrapped in his arms, but it was for new reasons. Your lips still tingle from the feel of his lips. You can taste just a hint of the mint from his toothpaste. Even as you fall into your dream world you tongue flicked out to enjoy the taste one last time. You still aren’t convinced that you aren’t dreaming, but you are too exhausted and comfortable to unpack the worry and fear, that would come with the morning light.

Which it did. You manage to keep your mind clear of nightmares and worry throughout the night, but the moment your head turns, and the morning sun warms your face, the fear starts to take hold. You can feel the soft firmness of the bed beneath you, smell the familiar scent of the man you’ve tried, in vain, not to fall in love with. You knew you weren’t in your car; you hadn’t fallen asleep someplace strange and dreamed the entire interaction last night. Something doesn’t feel right, though. Something is missing from your moment of waking up.

Your mind is foggy and unclear, head pounding slightly from the exhaustion slipping away. It is possible you overslept in your need to right what your body had decided was wrong last night. It is also possible you had lost your mind completely. Perhaps what you remember of the night hadn’t actually happened… Perhaps, your mind supplied, you’d been asleep the whole time and nothing had changed between the two of you.

A sigh slips from your lips and your arms stretches out beside you. You are careful not to hit the other occupant in the bed, but instead of finding him, you find his side of the bed cold and empty. A frown cuts your stretch short as you finally pry your eyes open and examine the room in the daylight. The beds a mess, of course. The two of you had slept in it and he wasn’t one for making the bed, even if you weren’t still in it.

Slipping from the bed is a quiet process and followed by a trip to the bathroom. Your hair is a mess but you correct that as best you can with the ponytail holder that takes up permanent residence on your right wrist. Your clothing is rumpled and crooked but easily smoothed out. You lost the sweatshirt at some point in the night, it is probably laying on the floor of Nolan’s room, leaving you in a tank top and sports bra. Truth be told, with your hair up and your work out pants on, you look like you’re ready to run a 5k. It was better than looking like you just dragged your paranoid ass out of bed.

The house is quiet upon getting out of the bathroom, but that doesn’t really tell you much. Nolan isn’t a very loud person, to begin with. Honestly, if you hadn’t known him for as long as you had, it would have unnerved you how effortlessly silent he was. Not that that helps you to know where he is within the house. Walking back into his room, you hadn’t expected to find him standing, fully dressed by the bed but you recover from your startled state the moment you recognize the coffee in his hand and the brown bag that taunts your senses.

“I didn’t have anything to cook, so…” he holds up the little bag and paper cups as an offering. “Light and sweet, right? Just like you?” he asks as a smile spread across his lips.

You chuckle softly as he hands you one of the cups of coffee. He always took his black as night, but you liked to say you took it sweet like your personality. It used to be a bad joke that would make him tease you, but there is no teasing in his tone at the moment. “Naturally,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. The tip of the coffee cup to your lips hides most of the pleased smile you can’t help but wear.

Nerves still curl in your belly as you watch him standing there so casually unaffected by last night, but you’ve learned by now how to push past them. It was Nolan, after all. “What else ya got there?” You ask, tipping the drink toward the bag of goodies.

“Spinach and egg white bagel sandwich with turkey bacon.”

You pull a face, nose wrinkling at the overly healthy choice of breakfast food while still marveling at how unlikely it is to actually be healthy.

“For me,” he tells you with a laugh.

You know that. You just like to give him a hard time. “And for me?” You ask.

“Who says I got you anything?” he quips, pulling the bag into his chest and curling around it.

You scoff and set the coffee he’d just handed you down on the bedside table. “Rude,” you tell him as you move toward him. “I’ll just eat your breakfast, then.” You make a grab for the bag but he’s quicker than you. The bag is out of your reach and so is he in an instant.

“You don’t like my breakfast,” he tells you from his spot in the middle of the bed. The bed dips from his weight as he's standing there, bag above his head, like some little child playing keep away.

He is right, you do hate his breakfast, but that is absolutely not the point. You scoff at him a moment before you follow him onto the bed. "I'll just lick it and throw it away, that way you can't have it either." You grab for the bag again, but he moves again, slower this time due to the uneven surface the two of you are on.

"That won't stop me from eating it. You're going to make me spill my coffee." His coffee is clutched tightly in one hand while you go from the bag in the other. You aren’t even worried about it. If he spilled it, he spilled it. It was his fault for picking his bed for this confrontation.

"If you were smart, like me, you would have put it down. Alls fair in breakfast wars."

"I always thought it was love."

"They lied."

The bark of laughter that popped from Nolan's throat, on any other day would have you focusing on it and him. It would have caused the little butterflies that slept peacefully in your stomach when he wasn't around, to take flight. You are too focused on the task at hand to let them take over. You lung for the bag again, your laugh matching his. It's then that he relents, letting you take the bag from his hand.

Or well, partially. Your hand closes over it and you tug, but he doesn't actually let go. "Nols," you say with a laugh, tugging on the bag again. "You lost. Let go."

"I didn't lose, I let you win."

"Oh is that what you're calling it? Not bitching out because you don't want to "spill your coffee"?" You tug on the bag one more time, this time he relents and lets it slip from his hands.

Your celly is short-lived, virtually non-existent because the moment his hand is free of the bag, he's reaching for you and pulling you closer to him.

He leans in, voice low as he speaks. "I didn't lose," he tells you again and he presses you against him. When he pulls back, the smile on his lips dances through his eyes, giving them the sparkle you're so familiar with.

You're supposed to be celebrating your win, but instead, your breath is caught in your throat and your mind is focused on the feel of his body against yours. It's not like you haven't been this close to him before, but it's different now. The heat of his hand warms the small of your back. You can feel the press of his large palm against your skin and the splay of his fingers is firm and comforting.

"You are so lame," you tell him. You try to make the tone of your voice cool and disinterested, but you can feel the heat creep into your cheeks.

"Do I get to ask you out, now?" He asks, instead of replying to your comment.

You hum, looking at him in contemplation. The answer is, of course, yes, but you're still trying to save a little bit of face. The fact that he has the ability to turn you to mush is near embarrassing.

"What did you get me for breakfast? This doesn't count as the date, does it?"

"I couldn't decide so I got you a blueberry muffin top and an orange scone."

Your eyes light up at the mention of both pastries. Your love of sugar is legendary and he knows it. You pull away from him far enough to look into the bag and inspect the three items he's gotten.

"This is not a date. This is breakfast. A date is getting dressed up and going out somewhere nice and fun. Are you going to say yes?"

"You haven't asked me."

he'd asked if he could ask you out, but he hadn't actually asked you out... yet.

"Y/N." The whine in his voice is damn adorable but you just smile at him. "Fine. Will you go on a date with me? Tonight?"

Your smile breaks into a grin and you nod. "Yes, of course. It's about time you asked." It's easy to joke now that you know he likes you. Your heart still skips beats when he looks at you but there isn't the panic that comes with it. "Can we eat now?"

Nolan rolls his eyes at you and jumps down off the bed. "I'll go warm up the coffee."

You follow him out of the bedroom, a bounce in your step that hadn't been there when you woke up. You won't let yourself think about the date coming up or the classes you're missing sitting at his dining table. You'll grab notes from someone in a few days. This was more important anyway.