#I do realise it's now Wednesday... but life got in the way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 7)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 6, Part 8

summary: You spend some time with Miguel.

warnings: smut. f receiving oral, fingering, grinding, switchy behaviour from both sides, angst. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this chapter beat my ass icl

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all-consuming grief,

It’s going to be a warm night. It's ushered in by the kind of dawn that bleeds red and gold, tawny and autumnal in the waning light. Like the washy colours of a Renoir, and he doesn’t even notice that he’s doing the thing he swore black-and-blue he wouldn’t. Reminiscing and romanticising; for the first time in a while, Miguel is able to see the sun set, legs splayed on the brick of his front steps.

Sitting by worn metal railing, he’s still in his work clothes. He chucked his rucksack on the step above, leaning long legs onto the ones below. They don’t ache as much as they used to, well-trained by a couple months of running and spending more time in the gym. There’s a shake in the fridge, labelled ‘Tuesday, PM’ that he’ll gulp down before bed, and one labelled ‘Wednesday, AM’ that he’ll take before setting off in the morning. In the morning, with cloudy skies and street cars to keep him company. There’s too much pollution, light or otherwise, for him to see some stars. He hasn’t seen stars in a while, now.

Long days seem to have turned into just days somewhere along the way. He can’t quite pinpoint when, and doesn’t really care to, but he thinks his brother would call it “progress”. There’s a grimace on his face as he thinks about it; a word that tastes like mud and feels like swirling cement in his mouth. It’s all bullshit, really. Gabi’s paltry attempt at therapising him, one which he would usually nip in the bud - taking metaphorical shears to slash at weeds and dense conversation. Catch-up calls about how he feels, how he’s doing – when he’s fine, he always is – as if Gabi is waiting for a shoe to drop.

He’s waiting for Miguel to have an epiphany, a breakdown the size of a collapsing star. It’s not coming, he keeps telling his brother, and the sooner the younger O’Hara realises – without the wide eyes and the pity – the better for the both of them. After all, Gabriel is his baby brother, and he’s spent his whole life worrying on his behalf: playing hide-and-seek in little closets and putting back together broken toys. Trying to drown out the sound of shouting and broken plates. They’re too old for all that, the worrying and gulping back tears, walking its well-travelled paths – and it doesn’t feel right that Gabi should do the same for him.

He sighs, deep and heavy and rolling down that quiet street. After what feels like forever, he’s tempted to lie down, to rest his head on the stone, close his eyes and think of something else. Of someone else - lots of someones, at this point in the day. He’s not the weepy type, but he is tired; shaking off the wear and tear, and fighting off sleep.

Then he sees it; a figure walking towards him, all sandals and khaki shorts and smiles. Mr Estevez, donned in his year-round attire of a polo shirt, a little tight around the middle, and cargos cut off below the knee – finally appropriate, considering the weather. He’s strolling closer like he’s got all the time in the world. If Miguel wasn’t so exhausted; the bone-deep kind, the kind that seeps into skin and lines a casket; he would’ve been annoyed. Instead, he hisses, furrows quickly deepening.

“Buenas, Miguelito!” Mr Estevez beams, scratching at scraggly facial hair.

Miguel frowns, but greets him nonetheless: that politeness drilled into him during childhood rearing its head.

“Buenas tardes, tío.” He grits his teeth as he gets up from his seat, creaky joints and all.

His landlord, the building’s handyman, owner of half a dozen shops all over the city, and Miguel’s uncle-that’s-not-really-his-uncle; Mr Estevez wears many hats, staying bright and informal regardless. He’s known the older man since he was 6, so he can’t be too disappointed; his tío has been late for weddings, funerals, and his little boy’s birth – it’s not much of a surprise that he’d be late now, too. Miguel stretches out a rough palm, and the man stops just shy of his hand, completely ignoring it. Before he knows it, Miguelito is engulfed in a great big bear hug, with wet kisses pressed to the apples of his cheeks. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, as usual, so they hang limply; arms flailing to his sides like a t-rex.

They separate, and he coughs at the great big hand that slaps his back. Grumbling, he walks up to the door, bag over his back, and stands expectantly. Mr Estevez doesn’t follow, instead dusting himself down to sit on the steps.

“I just need to get into the building.” Miguel starts. “Forgot my keys, and I've been here for hours. M’tired, and I–”

“Let’s sit, Miguel.” He scoots over, making space. “Look at the stars.”

It’s clear the older man isn’t moving. Begrudgingly, he obliges. “We’re in the middle of the city. You only see “stars” in the river – beer bottles and tinned crap reflecting the lights.”

“Language.” He gets a sharp nudge to his ribs.

“Discúlpame, tío.”

They stew for a moment, bathing in the silence that follows. The man besides him is the first to speak.

“I spoke to your mother.”

He’s scoffing and moving to get up, before feeling a firm hand on his shoulder.

“She’s worried, Miguel. Says you haven’t called in a while.”

“She hasn’t called me either."

“She’s stubborn.” The man besides him chuckles, bringing gentle eyes to meet his own. "Pig-headed. Remind you of someone?"

Miguel rolls his eyes, he just can't help it.

"She’s also the one that moved back home, so either way–”

"You know it's all been hard on her."

" –on her? It's been hard for her, surrounded by family, after she abandoned me? A-After…" His voice gets dangerously hoarse, threatening to crack under the weight of those words.

He can't stand the pitiful look sent his way: brows drawn, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Sorry. It's… It's nothing. I'm fine. Just fine."

"I didn't ask if you were fine, Miguel."

–even though you're definitely not okay. That part is left unsaid, spat onto the pavement like bitter backwash.

Mr Estévez sighs, ruffling a hand through Miguel's hair. It makes him hiss and dart away from the hand, pouting like he's a little kid again. He doesn't like it; the way he feels like all this life he's lived has been for naught. Trials and tribulations, and yet he doesn't feel that ache of growth; still stuck in the shoes of an awkward teenager.

"You think too much, Miguelito. Always have." He smiles, the kind that deepens the wrinkles around his mouth. It twists Miguel into knots, mouth dry as he tries to untangle himself from that feeling. "I'm worried about you, kid."

He sniffs, eyes trained towards the pavement. There it is again, worry; complicating and unravelling what was meant to be just another day.

"It's today, isn't it?"

All Miguel does is nod, shakily. It's been 2 years since his heart was ripped out of his chest. It heaves now, an erratic rise and fall he’s doing his best to control. Breathe, deeply and calmly; try not to think about his little girl in that hospital bed, and those blank eyes staring back.

“M’fine.” It comes out more desperate than he intends it, and he curses under his breath. If Mr Estevez hears the crude language, he doesn’t react.

Miguel is tense, hunched over the bag on his lap and curled into himself like prey – spitting and prickly and clearly uncomfortable. He’s never been the weepy kind, but the older man can’t help but think it’s a shame; so much love, and nowhere to keep it but inside. Miguel's bottled it up; the memories of precious Gabriella, all that warmth she brought out in her father; and he's turned them to poison pills to keep himself sick.

Miguel would never admit it, of course. He’s too stubborn. Pig-headed.

His tío sighs, moving to get up. He groans, in that dramatic sort of way he knows Miguel can’t stand, but still, there's a rush to help him up. Producing the door keys with a flourish, he pulls from the depths of cargo pockets, and unlocks the main door. Ushering in the younger man, who has grown so tall he needs to duck as he climbs the narrow stairs, there’s a finger prodded into the back of that cotton button-up.

“Miguel?” He starts, revving up a conversation he’s been meaning to have for a while now.

“Hmm?”

They both wait by the entrance of the apartment. The keys jingle in Mr Estevez’s hand.

“If I open the door, will I find out that you’ve driven away another one of my tenants?”

Conveniently, there seems to be a rather interesting spot in the hardwood that Miguel pokes with a dress shoe.

“...depends on your definition of 'driven out', tío.”

“That’s the third one this year! Not even 2 months– I knew there was something up. Not a single one of those little smiley faces to my messages, and–"

“I’ll make up for his side of the rent, you know I will.”

“I don’t like it. You should be saving up, to go get a house and settle down somewhere."

“I like living here, and I’ve said multiple times I’d pay the extra to live alone–”

“And then what? You rot in your room for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t– rot feels a little–”

“Nonsense. You’re lonely, Miguelito. If you don’t like it, you move out.”

They both know he won’t. It’s not really an option; the apartment is affordable and he likes living so close to his old neighbourhood, his old haunts. It’s like he’s tethered to that place with a bungee cord wrapped under his ribs, always snapping back.

“No promises, tío.”

“Doesn’t matter, Miguelito.” He sighs, scratching at stubble. “It’s been hard to find other tenants, with half the neighbourhood drying up. But as soon as I do–”

He points an accusatory finger at Miguel, and the sentence is finished for him.

“...best behaviour, I know.”

“Best behaviour.” Mr Estevez repeats, and starts to fumble with the keys. He throws a little comment over his shoulder. “I liked your lady friend, ages ago… the scary one, with the blue hair. She was–”

“Xina’s not scary, when you get to know her.”

“She was funny. Very pretty. Always paid rent on time, gave me food when I came to fix the heating…”

“It's out again, by the way.” Miguel chews his lip, with a strange expression. “And yeah, she was.”

The door swings open. Mr Estevez doesn’t let him off the hook, though, engulfing him in a warm hug. This time, in the doorway of his apartment, eyes screwed shut; he doesn’t try to wriggle out of it, melting into his tío’s arms. It feels different now that he’s not a kid: angry and hurting with a different sort of ache, but he leans into it, all the same.

~~~

There's a pressure released from the apartment, lately. Miguel feels… well, first of all, he feels ; thinks with his heart and not his head, sometimes. It's lighter, coming home with that weight on his shoulders and with someone there to distract him from it. Living life, he thinks, for the first time in a while. Vivid and vibrant and awake ; relishing the autumnal weather. It's always been his favourite season, despite how childish he thinks having a favourite season is; something you had asked him on a whim one morning.

Normally, he wouldn't entertain it, and with all the shit Pete spews, sometimes, he's had plenty of practice ignoring it. A well-timed dirty look, and then he'd get his head down and work; occupy himself with something less frivolous. But when you say it, with half a piece of toast sticking out of your mouth, it doesn't feel like a chore to answer. It doesn't feel like a stupid question, and he finds his face growing warm at the thought of you caring about these little things – wanting to know him , however that comes.

And so, his answer is Autumn. It's a little stilted; but catching him off guard after a run will do that to him. It's purely practical , he says, eyes tracing the slopes of your body in that shirt and shorts that stops at your thighs; high enough that he feels like a perv for looking. Autumn has temperate, even weather. Perfect for sweaters and hoodies. Warm enough that you don't need a jacket. Just right. You snort, nudging him. Bullshit, Mig. You flutter your eyelashes mockingly, your tone light. You just think it's the prettiest.

And he hums, catching you off guard. You're both drawn towards that little window over the sink, the one that overlooks a fire escape and the street. He's had that view for three years, now. Sleeves always rolled to his elbows as he does his washing up, but never quite looking. The street just below is framed in its windowpane, quite the pretty picture. Crisp leaves scattered on the sidewalk, carpeted in red and honeyed amber. And he can feel it from the other side of the glass; smell it, touch it, taste it. Autumn: hot chocolate and giggles, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and cupping tiny palms to warm them up. Sunsets seen for the first time, watched through bus windows on the way back from school – he misses those the most.

"You don't think it's beautiful?" You say, leaning your head towards the half-open window.

You don't notice, but he looks over to you, swallowing roughly. He says it with a small voice.

"I…I do."

You're darting to the bathroom not too long after, breaking the spell. Frustrated, he resists the urge to curl up into a ball and scream into his palms. He's got what he wanted; a good fuck, a pretty face, a warm smile. Friends, at the most, who happen to get the other off after a long day. A welcome distraction, at the least. He's got what his body has been telling him he needs for the past few months. It makes him feel weird, so oddly settled; but, all things considered…

Miguel is doing okay.

“...and I wouldn’t normally ask, but I swear , I left him…o-on read and he won’t stop texting me.”

Really, actually; he’s doing fine.

“It feels weird– mmffuck– but I can’t ignore him any longer.”

Maybe even… good. Better than okay.

“I still have a bunch of my stuff over there. At least half of it is clothes and books, a-and I’ve put it off for as long as I can…”

He hums in response, pulling quiet curses from you, above. Pressing the flat of his tongue onto your clit, your hips jump up and he purrs ; rearing up to dive even deeper into your pussy. Too quick for him, you catch on, hand in his hair to pull him up.

Sitting up on your haunches, he rests his head on your bare thigh – licking the taste of you off of his lips.

You tilt your head, looking at him with those eyes he can’t help but marvel at. A beat passes.

“...so?” You start, expectantly. “Will you help me or not?”

His response comes in the form of teeth nipping at pillowy skin. You yelp, and swat him away whilst he chuckles.

“I’m serious , Mig. It’s too much to pick up by myself. And you’re the only person I know with a car…”

“ Ouch, hermosa. ” He frowns as you peter off. “Is that the only reason you’re fucking me? For my car?”

“If I say it’s because of your sparkling personality, will you help me?”

For a moment, it seems like he’s got his brows pressed together like he’s seriously considering it, but it ends up being just smoke and mirrors. He’s pretending , biding his time to hook a hand under your legs and force you to lie down onto the bed. Your head hits the covers with a gentle thump as he hikes up the lip of that big tee even further; squeezing your thighs around his head like earmuffs.

It’s when he makes eye-contact, tongue circling your hole, that you realised you’re fucked. Up until now, he’s been toying with you – playing with his food, so to speak – lazily swirling his tongue around your clit and pressing buttons to see exactly where to push. And you'd welcomed it, a hand in his hair as you talked about your day – which he'd asked for, of course.

Now, he's insatiable, eating you out like a man starved; all tongue and wet kisses to your swollen bud. You're slightly raised up on his shoulders, clamping around his tongue as he fucks into you fervently. Big palms spread you wider, and he hums into it, content.

"So pretty ," He sets you down, pupils blown as he studies the way your back arches and the way your legs shudder in the sheets. He slides upwards, sitting next to you, tracing a hand across the gentle curve of stomach that peeks out from your big t-shirt.

Still coming down from your high, you're only just able to register it: he looks mesmerised, a dopey smile plastered on his face.

"What?" You scoff when a moment passes, and his hand inches closer towards your lower lips.

"M'just looking." He shrugs, with a little smile on his face. "I'm not allowed to look?"

You scoff, but you're still shaky so it comes out a little more pathetic than you intend. Nevertheless, you start to sit up but he stops you with a gentle hand at your chest.

"Call him." He says, pressing two fingers to your clit and then down to your gushing slit.

Maybe it's the way he hunches over you, eyes flicking towards your lips, or the way he slips those fingers in; but your eyes go wide, and you're choking on your next words.

"Call… Call who?" Playing dumb, dancing on a razor's edge, and Miguel only quirks up an eyebrow at the stupid question.

"You know who." He says it low, smooth and dulcet as he curls his fingers at that sweet spot, experimenting. "I'll help you, fine. But I want you to call your ex, too. Let him know when to expect us. Is that okay, sweetheart ?"

That last word comes with a twang, the lilting tone of what sounds like mockery. He twists the knife, nudging the flat of his palm onto your clit – still tender and throbbing from your last orgasm.

Before you change your mind, you pick up the phone laid face down on the bedside table, pressing shaky fingers to its screen. You don't dare to look up, knowing Miguel is watching; dark eyes studying your every move.

Flicking his wrist this way and that, he swallows roughly as your fingers stutter on the screen. Not completely satisfied, he still has the time to look smug, settling into a comfortable pace. Finally, your phone rings with a tell-tale dial tone. It rings once. It rings twice, and–

"Hello? " The voice is muffled as it says your name. Put it on speaker, Miguel mouths and you oblige.

"Hey, J-Jamie." The phone is shaky in your hands, so you lay it out next to you on the bed.

"It's late, baby." You don't have time to be annoyed at his tone – or the unwarranted pet name – because Miguel speeds up, pumping in and out of you with a little more force.

"I… I know. S-Sorry." You clamp down the moans that threaten to erupt, rocking your hips in time with the thrusts.

Head lolling back into the sheets, you spend a good ten seconds in oblivious bliss, until Jamie breaks the silence.

"You've been ignoring me for ages, baby… and then you call out of the blue. What is it?" He's tired, it sounds like. Irritated for sure.

"Just w-wanted to–" Miguel presses his thumb to your clit and you jump. Once back down to earth he has to prompt you to answer. "-my stuff! Fuck , I just want to pick up my stuff."

"...now?"

Tomorrow. Miguel mouths.

"Tomorrow. " You repeat, wrapping a hand around his forearm to slow him down. It's too much, too fast; and he has the audacity to add another finger, scissoring out to stretch your cunt.

"O-kay. " He clicks his tongue, with some things rustling in the background. "Okay. You're acting weird, but..."

You're conflicted. His tone makes you melt, reaching for your phone to answer when Miguel snakes a hand under your shirt, palming your tits. To your surprise, he presses shaky kisses to the skin, rolling around your nipple with the flat of his tongue. You keen, clamping a hand around your mouth to stop the noises that spill out.

"...we still need to talk about what happened. About how we left things."

Anger flares up at your chest; hot at the sheer gall. He wants to talk? Now, when you had been met with a brick wall of silence; begging and begging for even a simple explanation?

What made it sting even more was that even after the breakup, everything happened on Jamie's terms. He broke up with you, providing little warning. He completely ghosted you, refusing to answer countless calls and messages. And now, he wants to talk; to make himself feel better and wank off his own ego, no doubt. It's not bitterness that makes you press Miguel closer, to revel in the pleasure that he gives you, you convince yourself. It's for you ; finally, unabashedly, just for you.

You don't bother to answer, hanging up the call with a click. Tugging at his hair, you pull him off with a wet pop; slick-soaked fingers slipping out of your cunt.

He cradles your chin, angling you upwards.

"You okay? Too much?" It barely registers; you're too focused on the tangle of curls framing his face, and the rosy pout of messy lips.

You shake your head, writhing against the sheets.

"More." You move his hand over to rest between your legs. "Please, Miguel."

His eyes flutter, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

He says it with sobering clarity, bolstered by just how precisely he slots against your bare pussy. You can feel it, the full length of his cock; pressed up against you as he slips it out of his sweats. Head spinning, it slaps onto your stomach. Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. Oh fuck. He's big.

"Just like that." He coos, spitting into his palm and pumping his cock. “Wanna see how pretty you look when I make you cum.”

~~~

When tomorrow comes, you’re still sore from the litany of bruises and hickeys littered. It’s a Saturday, and you’re up bright and early. Well, Miguel is up bright and early, clattering around in the kitchen as you wake up.

He seems energised, mug of coffee in hand whilst you rub the sleep from your eyes. You waltz into the kitchen through the open doorway, morning breath and all.

"Morning," You say, soft and giggly at the way he jumps ten feet in the air, too wrapped up in himself to notice at first.

"Morning." He breathes, melting when he sees you in the shirt he had picked out for you last night. He shakes himself out of it. "Hungry? I can make something."

"No, no. M'good." You sidle up to the counter, head clocked at the fancy machine on the heavy slab. There's a question on the tip of your tongue, one you roll between your teeth. "Could I have some coffee? I mean… could you show me how?"

Where you expect laughter, mockery, or surprise that you've lived here for months and can't figure out the coffee machine; he nods, patient and calm. You ask him more questions; curious with every flick of a switch, and the way he lights up when talking about it. To your surprise, you want to know more – anyway that comes.

He's talking about expensive beans, and his favourite roasts – and a place across town that sells the exact kind he likes, but it's too fucking gentrified for him to go there more than two or three times a year. That makes you giggle: his little pout, the press of brow; and he looks up in surprise before joining you in light laughter.

You finish, pouring cream into his special mug with a flourish, and he steals a sip before you can. You elbow him away, angling for that stolen taste. When you do, it is deep and rich; sweet in a way that reminds you of Miguel, grounded and balanced and silky. In short, it's the perfect cup of coffee. More than content, you hum.

"Is it good?" He asks because he's already making mental notes, planning to greet you with a hot flask of the stuff in the mornings – if it means he gets that smile, of course.

"Very." Fervently you nod, lips curved to the ceramic as you blow; and Miguel is trying really hard not to stare. Maybe it's the fact that he's seen you in a way not everyone gets to; pretty and vulnerable and writhing on the tip of his cock; but it has him fending off vivid daydreams. Your lips wrapped around his length, his hand pressing you further down, feeling that warmth as you choke on his–

He blinks and you're gone, padding off to your room with that mug of coffee. You return not too long after, phone in hand and tapping away at the screen. Miguel ignores the way it makes him feel, having your attention and then losing it just as quickly. Like a kicked puppy, he resists the urge to beg for more – of your time, of your attention – turning away to clean up instead.

"I spoke to Jamie," You start, leaning with your back to the counter as he rolls up the sleeves of a comfy sweater. "He said he'll be around later in the evening, after his shift. Around 10. Is that okay?"

He shrugs, not caring either way. You're a friend, and he's helping you because that's what friends do. He can still taste you on his lips, but it doesn't mean anything. Not in a way you'd want, anyways.

"Sure." He doesn't turn around, stealing glances at the open window whilst he clatters around. "I've got a session later on anyways."

He catches a flash of something on your face, and you're pushing it away; prickly and uncomfortable. In his defence, he's stopped bringing people over for faux chemistry tutoring and there's less banging coming from across the wall. Less , but not completely gone, because you've learnt he has a penchant for dropping shit and cursing like someone's Dad.

But you can't help but think about Sarah , and Jia …. and how close he would get to Sita on the dining table. Fuck .

You're sighing now, tracing the curve of his jaw as he settles in front of the window: jaw set, arms crossed, and distant. He does that sometimes, goes off somewhere else – all teeth and claws. Tense, brows drawn up in a way that makes you want to smooth them out.

You put your phone down and mug away, sliding across linoleum to gently nudge his shoulder with your own.

"Are we…" He starts, and you track his line of sight to a quiet street below. He hums, without looking away. "Are we good?"

It makes you turn. You blink, as if out of all the nonsense you bicker about daily, that was the most ridiculous. Good? Good? Of course we are, of course we always will be. How could we be anything else? You shut it down before it spills out of your mouth, overzealous and desperate.

He clarifies with a nervous cough. "Last night. Was it… good?"

His frown deepens, and you wonder if it's just you that hears it in his tone. His real question, the one that makes you splinter and creak like a felled oak tree: Was I good? Am I good enough?

"Yeah. " You say it like the most obvious thing in the world – and to you, it is. For all his flaws; assholery and its trimmings aside; Miguel has never been a bad lay. You don't even think he has it in him; he couldn't half-ass it if he tried.

"It was–" Fucking amazing . The kind of thing you'll fuck yourself to for the foreseeable future. Cathartic and breath-taking and hot . All of the above.

Miguel finishes your sentence with something a little less… horny. "It was a lot, wasn't it? I wasn't really thinking, how uncomfortable it could be for you, and–"

Gently, you laugh and cut him off. "I've been having mediocre sex for basically the whole of my adult life, Mig. This is… exciting and new. I like it, I really do."

Exciting and new. It brings him crashing back down to earth. You're enjoying the way he makes you feel, the thrill . Not… him. Not really, anyways. That pang of disappointment feels different, for some reason. He's never liked the song and dance of flirting, but he cherishes its rewards: of being wanted, and someone wanting him . So that fiery flame of need; deep and heady; is unfamiliar under his skin.

"We can slow down, if you'd like." You bring a hand to his arm, warm and gentle. "I don't mind. We can go back to just messing around on the couch…."

You've got a cheeky smile when you say it; a vague memory of a different time, when you had gotten a little too comfortable on the sofa, leading to hands stuffed in trousers and pressed up against one another. Quick and desperate, you had wanted to see him fall apart; like he did your first night together, and the next, and the next.

He gets closer, sandwiching you between the counter and his body. With a gentle hand, he strokes your hip, bunching up the fabric to get a peek of thigh.

“What do you like?” He’s deadly serious, red-brown eyes searching your face for something he can’t quite place. And just like that, the air is thick with tension. All you can manage is a limp shrug.

“I don’t know, really.” It comes out as a croak , as you’re much too occupied with the shrinking gap between you both. “I haven’t done the things you’ve done.”

You’re making assumptions, of course. Filling in the gaps of what you’ve learnt in the past few months; of alleged threesomes and a laundry list of women at his feet. He’s an asshole; pretty and gruff and sarcastic; but God , he knows how to touch you just right.

“I could show you.” He slots a knee between your thighs and your head spins. “Make you feel good. ”

Before you can think, you’re nodding; chewing at your lip to bite back moans when he rucks up your shirt. He nudges your legs apart, both hands on your waist as he slots himself between them. You can feel it; quickly hardening, loose underneath sweats. Miguel slides wide palms to your ass, kneading its globes. With one hand, he picks up your leg by the thigh, and snakes the other to your pussy. Bare, because you’re trying to kill him, of course, and he groans at the feeling of his hand at your cunt; already wet and pliant for him.

After a few wet taps to your hole, obscene, he slips himself out and you heave; pussy fluttering at just the thought of him inside you. Gathering up your slick on his palm, Miguel pumps his weeping cock, pressing its tip to your hole.

"Still sore, Miguel." You hiss, looking down at where you both meet with the prettiest pout he thinks he's ever seen.

It has you clawing at his back for purchase as he finally sinks in, stretching you out in that wonderful way he did last night. Except this time, he's slow and careful; steeling himself with shaky breaths.

"Oh, fuck. " He settles in about halfway, stopping to hike up your leg just a bit higher. "Want me to make you feel better?"

He says it breathless and crooning, forehead comes to rest on yours. With that other hand flat on the counter, you're lifted up to only toes on the floor, and he angles himself to buck up; filling you deep, and cock sliding past that sweet spot inside. He sets a pace, grinding into you, rather than fucking. If last night was dirty ; taboo, quick and primal; then this morning feels different. Intimate and reverent, he rolls his hips perfectly ; sending flashes of that first night down your spine.

With the moans that spill out of your mouth, it takes all of Miguel's willpower not to swallow them in a kiss. Impossibly close, he traces up your thigh with a large palm; eventually pressing into the small of your back. Arching into him, your lips barely brush together, and you're both panting into open mouths; drunk on pleasure.

"Miguel." There's a warning somewhere in your tone; underneath the layers of lust, you remind him of your previous agreement.

"I… I know. " He swallows, nose pressed to yours, eyes screwed shut. He thinks if he opens them, he might spill into you right then and there.

He's trying, he really is, tracing your cheek with his nose and mouthing at your neck – light kisses against the skin. He smells like coffee, bittersweet and heady, and you groan, rocking into him in a way that rubs up against your clit – before finding an ounce of restraint and putting a hand to his neck.

You apply a little pressure, intending to push him away, but he likes it: eyes fluttering open, and mouth curved into a little O. It's a pretty sight that has you drooling, tits pressed against him as he practically purrs . And so, you pull him closer; nails dancing underneath his shirt, whispering filth into the shell of his ear. You're close, grinding into him like the push and pull of waves, merely waiting for the crescendo of orgasm to take you out to sea.

"I'm close, Miguel." All he can do is hum, pulling you closer. "Fuck, I feel so good. You make me feel so good."

"Yeah? " He asks, needy in a way you haven't quite seen before.

"M'gonna cum," You nod. "...because of you, baby. You did good. So good. Shit, ohh –g-god–"

You clamp down on him, gushing around him with shaky legs. And Miguel is good; patient as he watches you fuck yourself through the aftermath. When it finally slows, he slips out with an obscene squelch clamping a hand to the base of his cock and leaning heavily on the counter.

"It's okay," As if on cue, you kneel in front of him as best you can, tugging down your shirt to expose collarbone and the swell of tits.

Miguel growls, grunting as he splatters thick cum across your chest, pumping his poor cock through it.

He wouldn't have lasted a second longer, not with that smile across your face; smug as you swipe fingers across your chest and lick up the mess he's made.

He's sighing, tucking himself back into gray sweats and pulling you up with a hand in yours; grumbling as you absentmindedly follow him to the sofa.

You're leaning back onto the arm of the tattered material, and he settles to sit so your legs lay in his lap. He's frowning, again, and it makes you giggle, still licking up what's left on your fingers.

He rolls his eyes, tapping a spot on your chin. A fat glob of his cum, dripping from your jaw to your neck. You miss it on the first swipe, and he gets impatient on the second, grabbing your hands and clambering over you. He drags the flat of his tongue to your skin, licking it up for you – and your eyes go wide. That… that felt good.

You giggle at the sensation, so attuned to your roommate that you can hear it: his eyes clattering into the back of his skull, as he rolls his eyes a second time.

"Is that okay?" He says it into the skin, pausing over a particularly tender spot. "Not too far?"

"Feels nice, Mig." You sigh, content. Sun streams in on a lazy morning, and you're sore in the kind of way that feels good; fucked out and blissful.

You lean into it, and then he sucks , teeth clashing onto the skin as he gives you a hickey and the juncture of your jaw. You wriggle, and he pins you down with one big hand holding down your arm, nipping and kissing and soothing it with a flash of tongue. This time he smiles, wrapping around your middle, tugging down your shirt to decorate your chest with hickeys. You play with his hair, wrapping soft curls between your fingers.

You spend a little too long like that; curved into him, spines moulded to the shape of each other. It feels nicer than either of you would care to admit; the pretense of sex wrapped around you both like a thin veil. Before he leaves, Miguel indulges himself just this once; head on your chest and sinking into those arms wrapped around him. You smell like coffee and sweat and Autumn, somehow. He presses kisses wherever he can reach, for a bit longer.

Miguel is okay. He's doing just fine.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader

912 notes · View notes

sc0tters · 4 months

Text

Second Chance | Jamie Drysdale

summary: jamie might still have your mind but does he really have your heart?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, mild choking, mild degradation, jealous jamie, swearing.

word count: 3.68k

authors note: for how long this took me I’m embarrassed to admit to how short it is… this part two was also so freaking weird to write so I’m hoping it’s a bit better to read.

pt 1

You had grown to hate Anaheim.

The city was a shell of its former self with where the shadows of Jamie seemed to haunt your mind. Everywhere you looked you swore he was there and you hated being met with the reality that he wasn’t. But most of all you hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to hate him.

Trevor noticed the decline in your mood but he just assumed that it was some kind of seasonal depression. And as he focused on building his new relationship with his girlfriend, he simply didn’t notice how far you had fallen. Trying to grapple with life as a twenty year old was always going to be tough and still feeling the pain of a broken heart that was dealt to you by the man who you couldn’t ever call yours.

It was this weird sense of grief you felt. You couldn’t say that you missed him because then what was it that you missed? He wasn’t your boyfriend, and at best Jamie was the guy you slept with from time to time. To top it all off you were a barely keeping it all together whilst Jamie seemed to be unscathed from the unfortunate emotions, only furthering your pain.

Your friends put you on enough dating sites to last anyone a lifetime as you were the only one single. And as you finally stopped turning them down, they wouldn’t give you a chance to change your mind. With each guy you could only find his downfalls or how he wasn’t like Jamie and how your heart and your brain just wanted the man who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

So after almost three months of struggling with all of these men that clearly weren’t enough to pull your mind from the grasps of Jamie; you finally found someone who made you feel alive and funnily enough he had been right in front of you all along. Alex started hanging out more with you when Trevor started spending more time with Dixie.

Alex had actually shown up at the Zegras siblings apartment one night looking for Trevor “hey Al.” You smiled as you saw the boy stand over you “is Trev in?”Aled asked as he cocked his head shoving his hands into his shorts pockets.

Your lips pursed together as you shook your head “he’s out on a date.” Your words made him wriggle his eyebrows as he laughed “I got that man dinner for nothing?” Every Wednesday the duo would go for dinner if they didn’t have a game and now it seemed that your brother forgot of that tradition.

You frowned sending him a sigh “if you’re up for an episode of the bachelor I could eat?” You offered opening the door further as you smiled tilting your head inwards “since you asked so nicely.” Alex didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked in making himself comfortable on the couch.

That’s how your weeks ended, with Alex on the couch and he was no longer just your brothers best friend but instead a friend of yours. You had to say that you found yourself falling for him. With Alex it was no longer tough to not think about Jamie, instead now it was tough to not let your body feel like it was on fire with nerves.

All the way in Philly sat Jamie as he frowned staring at his phone in his empty apartment. The sound of a notification pulled him from his daze when he realised that he had a voicemail from you. It surprised him when he saw your name but after months of letting his thumb hover over the call button only stopping when the fear of hearing you upset got to him. But instead he was met with the sounds of you in bed with someone else.

The sounds of your breathe shaking echoed in the phones speaker “fuck Al!” You moaned letting your legs shake “you are such a pretty fucking girl.” Alex mumbled as he ran his finger over your clit. It made Jamie freeze listening to you having sex. Was he meant to hang up? Because this clearly wasn’t meant for him.

You grabbed the boy by the back of his neck as you pulled him forward “gonna come.” You announced kissing his lips “go make a mess on my fingers and I’ll make you feel real good with my cock.” As the offer left Alex’s lips a flurry of jumbled sounds and noises left your mouth signalling that you had reached your high.

The sounds made Jamie recoil in disgust as he didn’t know what to do about it. Most of all though he missed being the one who made you sound like that. Jamie didn’t know what to do as he felt his cock hardening in his pants. The season had ended and he was meant to be heading home to his parents but all he could think about was you. There were no rumours on twitter about you and this Al that Jamie swore was Turcotte.

And he knew that Twitter would have found something as they even had scraps of you and Jamie together swirling around the rumour mill. So as he was met with nothing but random pictures of you and Trevor, Jamie knew what he had to do.

You groaned when you were woken up to the incessant pounding on your door when you realised that Trevor was still out “alright I’m coming!” You complained rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Before you could even properly open the door it was pushed into you as the raven haired boy that you knew so well walked in “where is he?” Jamie grunted looking around the pristinely clean apartment “where is who?” You yawned wondering if you were dreaming of Jamie being there.

The boy stopped planting his feet where he was as he sent you a harsh glare “the man you fucked last night y/n!” His words made you freeze as you began to wonder how he knew about what you had done the night before.

A laugh echoed through your ears “you gonna tell me you don’t remember giving me that front row seat to listen in?” your eyes went wide as you realised what had gone on.

You couldn’t help but bring your hand to your mouth as you held back a laugh “you came back because you heard me have sex?” You knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up but that clearly seemed to be his entire reason for being there and you were a fool to think that it could have been something else.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he felt himself grow angry “I leave for Philly and all of a sudden you’re deciding that your type simply has to be friends with your brother.” The flyer spat as he sent you a glare “you don’t get to go there!” The embarrassment you once held had left your chest as it had been replaced by anger.

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms “why not?” Jamie spoke rhetorically as he cocked his head “because that’s the only thing we have in common.” He pointed out reminding you of how different the boys were.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you left me and came back to judge me for moving on?” Your voice was barely a whisper as the boy stepped closer to you.

Part of you was grateful for the fact that Alex left earlier that morning needing to catch a flight back to Michigan but the other part just wanted him to walk into the living room to stop whatever was going to come from this “you didn’t really move on though, did ya?” Jamie’s fingers were rough against your cheek as he towered over you.

A shaky breath left your lips “you’re being mean.” You pointed out trying your best to ignore his question “tell me to leave and I will.” Jamie announced pressing a cold and hard gaze against your weakening one.

The oxygen around the room was struggling to get into your lungs as you shook your head “you know I can’t.” It came with this defeated sigh that even made Jamie pity you “then why’d you go for him?” The question was like the one you had asked yourself so many times and could never find the answers to.

You shrugged as no answer really made the most sense “you enjoyed playing him is that it?” The hockey player was pushing your buttons in search of a particular answer “he’s good to me J.” You shook your head almost offended that the boy in front of you thought that lowly of you.

Yet it gave him the chance to laugh at you once more “better than I was?” It seemed like that was the first question you could actually shake off as you shook your head but this time to really say no “does he have you coming for rounds on end?” Especially once Jamie moved into out from the Zegras sibling’s apartment; it meant that you were over at his more often than not and up until the sun would rise.

Tears welled in your waterline “only you do that.” It was as though his cock left an imprint on your cunt that only he knew how to make feel full “I know my sweet girl.” You really thought that you had moved on from Jamie but as he stood in front of you with his hand caressing your cheek, you knew that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jamie put you out of your misery as his free hand gripped at your hip “how about I make you feel real fucking good?” He offered letting his lips hover over yours “please.” Was all the hockey player needed to hear as he picked you up letting your legs wrap around his waist as his lips locked with yours.

All of the lust and anger that both of you felt about the situation -about each other- was oozing out of your systems as your hands tugged through his hair pulling at the roots as his tongue slid into your lips “should fuck you out here like the real slut that you are.” He proposed letting a smirk form across his lips as he watched your eyes go wide.

Trevor had told you he was coming home, you just didn’t know when “Jim.” You whined shaking your head as you motioned your bedroom trying to tell him that today wasn’t the time for it “you worried that your little boy toy is gonna come back to see where you really belong?” Jamie nipped at your neck as he walked you both into your room making sure that the door was shut.

He watched in awe as your eyes scanned his face “his name is Alex, Jamie.” You reminded the boy as you felt guilty thinking about how sweet Alex was to you “and I’m gonna make sure you forget it.” Jamie’s announcement didn’t have you thinking otherwise as he placed you onto your bed settling into his place between your legs.

You had seen Jamie jealous before after you chugged a beer that Mason had given you. But this was a whole new level as if Jamie had something to prove “now rest that pretty little head of yours on that pillow f’me.” The hockey player reached behind you to grab your pillow as he pulled it closer to you.

One thing you always knew how to do was listen to him and today you didn’t disappoint. Your body nestled against your sheets as you looked at him with anticipation “god you’re soaked.” Jamie grunted seeing your soaked cunt as he trailed his fingers against your slit watching in awe as your wetness stuck to fingers.

He swore that the sight would truly never get old as he would watch you like this forever “please.” Your voice waivered as you forced your hips into the air “been thinking about having a taste of this all the fucking time.” Jamie confessed making you meet him with a whimper.

His lips pressed against your knee “Jamie.” You groaned feeling his breath go down your legs as he made sure to spread his love equally “yeah baby.” The hockey player turned his head up to look at you as you chewed at your lower lip.

A mewl left your lips “please fuck me.” You begged feeling desperate to feel him between your thighs again “don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he blew a cool air against your cunt “not after you were fucking him on our bed.” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond as his tongue latched onto your clit.

Your hands gripped at your sheets in an attempt to stop your body from curling into itself “‘m sorry.” You croaked out as your body melted into his touch

Jamie might as well have been a starved man as he treated you like you were his last meal “can’t believe you let him see my sweet tight pussy.” The boy raised his lips only far enough to bring his hand between you both so that he could hit your cunt.

It made you moan as your body shook “he would let me come.” You knew you were playing with fire as the hockey player sent you a glare “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in so much trouble.” Jamie warned edging dangerously close to you as he smirked.

You used the last bits of power and strength that you had left to smile “you used to deal with that by putting your cock in my mouth.” You swore that in that moment Jamie was seeing the devil as his pupils darkened “that’s before I had to treat you like somebody else’s whore.” He spat letting his fingers grip onto your hips as he turned you over resulting in a yelp leaving your lips.

Your didn’t often deceive you but in that moment you swore you heard Jamie grunt into your ear “you just had to go and give this pretty little cunt to someone who didn’t even deserve it.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he undid his belt.

You gripped at your sheets as you felt your shirt come off of your back as it was lifted up “see he isn’t a fan of you back here.” The hockey player mumbled to himself as your back looked untouched “at least I know your ass is still mine then.” He squeezed your ass in his fingers causing a breathy moan to leave your lips.

You couldn’t help but shake your ass pushing yourself into him “god I need to fuck you.” Jamie groaned feeling his cock throb as he felt your bare cunt grind against him “what are you waiting for then?” The question taunted him practically egging him on as you push his buttons further.

The swollen tip of his cock oozed precum as he wrapped his hand around his shaft “you’re lucky that I can’t get this cunt out of my head.” He grumbled pumping himself once then twice before he dragged the mushroom head over your slit.

It made your body tense as you curled your toes “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by your pillow as Jamie smirked to himself “seems like you been missing me too.” The hockey player gripped at your hips as he let himself bottom you out.

Both of you stayed there for a moment as your walls hugged his length “like I never even left ya.” Jamie gritted his teeth as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts feeling his eyes flutter “was worried he would have ruined my pretty fucking pussy.” The boy spat oozing with jealousy as it made you whimper.

Tears formed in your waterline when your ass was met with a smack “no!” You cried as you shook your head “don’t worry doll.” Jamie kissed the back of your neck as his hands slid under you to cup your breasts.

The sounds of his thrusts echoed in your ears “could never ruin something that wasn’t his.” Your cunt clenched around Jamie as you were aroused by his possessiveness “you like hearing me say that you’re all mine huh?” You could feel his smirk like the Cheshire Cat as you nodded.

Jamie’s knees dipped into the mattress as he got the best angle into you “all yours.” You moaned as you turned your head up to see him looking back down at you “knew you still had a brain in that pretty head of yours.” The hockey player kissed your cheek as his cock throbbed from within you.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock “don’t stop J.” You begged feeling a coil snap in your stomach “you feel you haven’t had a good fuck in months.” Jamie wasn’t lying when he said that, your cunt stretched to his cock and it was as though he hadn’t been with you before.

Cries let your lips as you babbled a steady stream of incoherent nonsense “make me feel so full.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as your legs began to shake “you feel me in here?” Jamie asked pressing his hand against your lower stomach where he felt his cock hit your gspot that left you yelping out in pleasure.

His fingers slid lower to rub your clit “fuck I’m gonna come.” You announced not thinking that you would be able to last much longer “gonna hold it until you ask nicely.” Jamie clicked his tongue as his free hand was quick to move to your neck as he pulled you closer to him as he held you upright.

Sweat stuck your both of you as his thrusts began to grow unstable and inconsistent “please let me come.” You called out not caring who could hear you “just want to be all yours.” You nodded feeling your vision get blurry as you didn’t think you were going to last much longer.

Jamie let his teeth sink into your shoulder as he stopped himself from coming in that moment “you never gonna let him get close to your pretty cunt ever again?” Jamie spat pressing his fingertips over the sides of your throat.

You swore your throat was raw as you kept on begging to have him let you come “I’m only yours Jamie.” You mumbled nodding as your ears began to ring “you fucking own me.” That was enough to let Jamie go feral as he used the little energy he had left to practically fuck you into oblivion “just go make a mess on my cock doll.” The order wasn’t something he needed to say twice.

As your cunt clenched around him it triggered the hockey players orgasm on as he spurted his warm load in sticky strings against your cunts walls “fuck J.” You whined writhing against him as you practically forgot how to breathe when the oxygen to your brain began to slow.

It took him a few more thrusts until you both landed on your mattress and his hand left your neck “wow.” Jamie mumbled sliding his cock out from your cunt to see your release mix either his as it oozed out “you okay?” He added flipping you over onto your back as you finally got the chance to look at him.

The way his eyes scanned you deep of concern made you laugh “that was the hottest thing I think you’ve ever done.” You confessed making him match your laugh as he leaned down to kiss you “think I can make it a little hotter then.” Jamie proposed running his hand down your slit before he scooped up whatever release that had oozed from your cunt as he now let it go back into your core as he pushed his fingers through your hole.

That day left an imprint on your mind as four weeks had gone by and Jamie had become nothing more than one of Trevor’s friends. Confessions seemed to way less than your brothers tears as he drunkenly sobbed into your arms one night begging you to end whatever it was after he found you in Jamie’s shirt.

Thankfully Trevor seemed to have no recollection of the conversation as he invited Jamie along to the family house on the lake a little over a month from now. Sure it was going to be weird for you but after a long call with Jamie you both agreed that it was going to be best for things to end for the sakes of Trevor.

He tried to put up a fight but when you brought up distance amongst other factors, Jamie knew he had lost the battle. You and Alex were merely enjoying things the way they were.

It was the perfect balance that truly didn’t need a label to have you feeling secure. Yet as you stood in the bathroom waiting for your timer to go off part of you began to curse your big brother for having to come to you, and for you having to be a good person.

Your period had been late and as it was bikini season you never complained but when you did the math backwards you realised that something was off. Even if you had shared your bed with two different guys, only one had you without any kind of protection between you both was Jamie.

And as you flipped the test over to see the thick bold letters spelling out the word PREGNANT you knew you were in all sense of the word fucked. No amount of tears was ever going to help make this situation better as you began to panic. Your head pressed against your knees as you wanted to wake up from this dream.

Al 🖤: just booked my flight see you next month x

#ambers love moments #amber writes fics #jamie Drysdale smut #jamie Drysdale imagines #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut

277 notes · View notes

gyuuberryy · 2 years

Text

jealousy jealousy (pt 2)

xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

>summary: you get to choose between them, make a wise decision!

>warnings: angst, crying, lots of fluff(i cringed while writing it lmao), kissing, slight mentions of food and blood, jealousy

>word count: 1.6k+

>note: ahh this is the last part, i couldn’t wait to finish it. the ending kind of gives an insight to the storyline of the show. enjoy!

part(1)

_________________________________________________

XAVIER

xavier walked through the forest to his hut where he practiced his art and made portraits. the usually chirpy forest was silent save for the crunching of dead leaves underneath his shoes. yet all his mind could comprehend was thoughts about you. his mind kept going back to what he saw at weathervane. how could you kiss tyler after what he and his friends had done to xavier the last outreach day? he deserved it though, afterall, he had hurt you so much and that too for the dumbest reason that you were not aware of. he really had to talk with you to fix things soon, otherwise he would continue to beat himself about this.

he looked up to dodge a tree that was in his way when he spotted two distant figures. as he got closer he realised it was tyler and..

you

he immediately stopped in his tracks. had things gotten serious between you and tyler that you were now meeting him outside of weathervane? his heart hurt as he observed the way you talked animatedly, making tyler chuckle.

everything felt hopeless now. you looked happy talking to tyler which was a stark contrast to when you told xavier that you didn’t want him as a part of your life anymore. before he could realise, hot, sticky tears rolled down his face. he had royally messed up a perfectly good friendship. now he couldn’t do anything about it.

tears blurred his vision as he turned around to go back to his dorm. he was walking through muscle memory as his mind went blank. he didn’t even realise someone was calling him till a warm hand latched around his wrist. he turned around to make out a familiar figure. he immediately wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve to clearly see you. both of your eyes went to your hand resting on his wrist. deja vu never felt so good.

you took your hand off him, as if touching him had burnt you. “i was shouting for you for so long, why didn’t you respond?”

xavier remained silent, the words not really settling in his brain. he was too mesmerised by how you were standing in front of him. he couldn’t believe you even approached him after what he did.

you huffed and crossed your arms, “i saw you staring at tyler and i” you smirked, “were you stalking me?first weathervane and now in the forest?”

xavier felt his cheeks go hot and he immediately shouted a no. your eyes slightly widened at his outburst. xavier cleared his throat, “uh i mean of course not i’m not a creep.” his hand went to scratch the back of his neck, a habit of his whenever he was nervous. “i wanted to get you something from weathervane to apologise for what i said yesterday.”

“apology huh? that sounds interesting”

your words struck something inside him, making him grab both of your hands and look into your eyes. taking a deep breath, he began his rant.

“y/n i’m so so sorry for neglecting you and ignoring you for the past month. the thing is.” he paused and gulped at the curious look in your eyes. “the thing is, i started seeing you in a different light. everytime i made eye contact with you, it felt like i couldn’t breathe. everytime you laughed, my heart fluttered.” your eyes softened at his words, encouraging him to go on. “i felt disgusted with myself for having feelings for my best friend. suddenly, i had no idea how to act around you anymore and i guess that’s when i started distancing myself from you. and i know i sound like a jerk for saying this, but wednesday was just a distraction. i just want to be friends with her. but i never wanted to replace you. i regret losing you.”

you were overwhelmed with everything he just told you. also ,the xavier thorpe LIKED YOU.

feeling overjoyed, you wanted to scream and dance around but you had to control yourself. “you could’ve just told me about it instead of being a jerk that day. i like you.”

xavier sighed, “i know i’m really sorry, i promise i didn’t mean any of the things i said to you. when you screamed at me it just set me off because i’ve been having these really weird vivid dreams-”

you cut him off with a kiss. xavier froze at the feeling of your soft lips against his but slowly held your face with his large hands and reciprocate the gesture. soon, you both broke apart. “idiot i just said i like you.”

his face was still riddled with confusion, “but you and tyler-”

you shut him up with another peck. “there’s nothing going on between us. i mainly kissed him to make you jealous, but also because he’s really attractive.” xavier raised a brow at that.

you hit him lightly on the chest, “you would've done that too if you were in such close proximity with him.” he just chuckled at your words.

he held your hand and led you towards the dorms. “you know he was surprisingly very understanding when i told him about all this.” xavier hummed at your words.

you turned your head towards him, “i was expecting you to be a bit more jealous you know.” his grip on your hand tightened, “oh i am jealous, i’m very much jealous. i was fuming that day when i saw you both.”

you giggled at his words. “wait were you crying earlier because of this?” he started whining and tried to shake your hand off his but you just tightened your hold on him and leaned on his shoulder. “okay okay i’ll stop.”

you both walked in a comfortable silence, peace finally settling down both of your bodies. you broke the silence to ask him something that was bothering you. “hey, what were these dreams you were talking about?”

xavier turned to you with a grim look on his face.

“well, it’s always this monster..”

_________________________________________________

TYLER

you walked towards the crackstone crypt with a skip in your step. you had just come back from clearing everything up with xavier. he had given you a sensible and heartfelt apology which made you happy and you were both back to your usual selves again. you had told him that the feelings you had for him felt more like sisterly love now. he felt the same way for you and gave you the green card to go confess to tyler. he was a bit wary about him at first, but you didn’t care. tyler always made you feel warm and fluffy inside. he was so freakin sweet. besides, what evil could be behind those puppy dog eyes?

you soon arrived at your destination to be met with a smiling tyler. his smile hit you like a big yellow school bus and you couldn’t help but smile too. you quickly walked towards him, the warm fuzzy feeling inside you growing with every step you took. finally, you stood in front of him with your hands buried inside your coat pocket.

“hey” you breathed out.

he grinned back in greeting,“so, why’d you call me here?”

your cheeks warmed up at what you were about to say. were you really going to do this? his ever present smile only made your heart flutter more. It was as clear as a beautiful sunny sky: he was an angel.

“i like you!” you blurted out. tyler sighed with relief, “i thought you were never going to say it.”

“wait i’m not done yet.” tyler stopped and looked at you intently. you took a deep breath and continued. “i was charmed by your looks and nature the day i met you. you were so nice to a person that you met for the first time, that too an outcast. i was surprised.” you took one of his hands in yours and rubbed your thumb over the back. “over time my feelings really grew for you tyler, and i didn’t even realise them till we kissed”. a rosy blush bloomed across tyler’s cheeks making you giggle softly. tyler looked into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t decipher. “i like you a lot y/n. i’m so happy you feel the same way.”

you stared at him with an adoring look then pulled him into a tight hug, melting into his arms. he buried his face in your neck contently while your cheek pressed against his white sweater. this was probably one of the best hugs you ever had, it felt like hugging a giant teddy bear. you both stayed in each others arms for a long time before you pulled away to give him a warm kiss. this time it was much more sweet and slow and both of you smiled into the kiss.

eventually, you both pulled apart and leaned your foreheads against each other. “should we get something to eat? i’m kind of hungry.” you nodded and pulled away from him. “i want hot chocolate, it’s getting cold”. you both held hands and swung them back and forth playfully on your walk to the town.

you couldn’t stop admiring him. how could someone be this perfect? while brushing a stray leaf from his shoulder, you noticed something on the collar of his shirt.

“hey, what’s this red stain? is it blood?”, you asked him, your intentions were only playful. he just brushed it off nervously, “it’s nothing, don’t worry.”

you missed the cold expression that came over his face.

_________________________________________________

TAGS: @jeluria @cat-loves-music @icarus-star @livingdeadgirl7 @hawkins-hs @mia-luvs @gracielou0518 @shadytalething @swagabclearner @seanicee @exiledangel @merakiaes @karagrace @justanotherkpopstanlol @pleasingregulus @sarcastic-sourwolf @captainalyss @aspenreadsfanfic @freyawhitexxx1 @liddy-lou-lou @carinacassiopeiae @bxtchopolis @temptressofthetarrot @godess-of-mist @starlight-poet

#wednesday #netflix wednesday #wednesday imagine #tyler galpin #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #y/n #hunter doohan #percy hynes white #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe imagines #tyler galpin imagines

1K notes · View notes

mountttmase · 10 months

Text

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Seven

Note - happy Wednesday all 🩷 it seem like years since the last chapter but I really hope you enjoy slightly silly Mase is this one 🥺 he’s so precious I love him but yeah any feedback would be greatly appreciated and thank you 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5.3k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

‘Am I dead?’ Mason asked, his voice slightly croaky. It was the first thing he’d said to you since waking up and you felt the panic wash through you thinking there might be something wrong. Before you had a chance to speak or ask what was happening, Masons dad was laughing at him, shaking his head as he took a few steps over to his son.

‘No you’re not dead you pillock. Why would you think that?’

‘Why is there an angel next to me then?’ He loudly whispered, he gaze meeting yours and even though his was drugged up to the eyeballs you could tell he was a little unsure of what was going on. That didn’t stop you from blushing though as his parents laughed even harder and Mason became even more confused.

‘Wait, do you not remember who I am?’ You asked, a slight panic in your voice as you got a bit closer to him, his far off stare not really helping but the warm ditzy smile that spread across his face made you realise he was just playing.

‘I know you. You’re the love of my life’ he confirmed, reaching for you but all the wires he was attached to wouldn’t let him get too far so you approached him carefully and gently brushed the hair out of his face. Smiling as his eyes fluttered at your touch before looking up at you seriously. ‘Have I still got my balls?’

‘I should think so’ you laughed, look up to see him mum looking down at him with a disappointed expression whilst his dad tried to hold in a laugh.

‘How you feeling now Mase?’ Debbie asked gently, tapping him on the calf and he looked over at her with a goofy smile, almost as if he wasn’t sure she’d been there and he was pleased to see her before he shrugged his shoulders and scratched his belly.

‘I’m hungry and a bit sleepy’

‘Well when the meds wear off and you’ve had a nap we’ll get you home and see what you can eat’

‘What do you fancy?’ You asked, your hand still combing through his hair as he looked up at you in deep thought.

‘I’d love a burger’

‘Are you sure you’re gonna be alright with him?’ Debbie asked you, clearly worried for her son due to the state he was in but you didn’t get time to answer her as he was huffing and puffing in protest.

‘I can still hear you know? They didn’t remove my ears whilst I was out’

‘How do you know?’ You asked him, watching his eyes widen as he hurriedly reached up to feel the sides of his head in hopes his ears were attached. His face relaxing once he felt them before you looked up to Debbie’s worried face. ‘I’ll be fine, I promise. You guys get some sleep I can take it from here’

‘And you’ll call when he’s ready to come home?’

‘Of course’

‘Come on Debs, let’s go we’ve been here for hours. I’m sure Y/n can look after him for a little while’ Tony winked before they both said their goodbyes to the pair of you and made their way back to Masons house.

You understood Debbie’s worry, this was the first time she’d left her baby after an operation and you knew she wanted to mother him but they’d been at the hospital for hours without any rest and you promised to take it in shifts being with him whilst he was recovering in hospital before taking him home where they would be staying for a night or two before they’d trusted you to look after him on your own. It felt like a huge responsibility and rather that sit and worry at the hospital whilst Mason was having the procedure, you’d been home prepping the house for theirs and Masons return to ease some of your nerves. Debbie had text you as soon as he was back and he’d been awake for about ten minutes already when you got there but you could see the tiredness start to creep in.

Seeing him awake in bed made you feel lighter than you thought it would of and you took a seat next to him on the end he of his bed so you could hold his hand, causing him to look up at you with a smile and even though he was still a little dazed you could see the love behind his eyes.

‘Why don’t you take a nap’ you whispered to him but he dropped his lip in protest, causing your heart to break slightly.

‘But you’ve only just got here. I’ll miss you’

‘I’ll be right here waiting, I promise’ you told him, stroking over his hand to try and relax him before reaching down to place a light kiss his lips. He smiled up at you, a content hum coming from his lips as you pulled back

‘Hey, y/n?’

‘Yes love?’

‘They taped my dick to my tummy and I think it’s still up there’ he told you, the pain killers clearly removing any sort of filter he had and you had to hold in a laugh as he shut his eyes and got settled.

‘Okay, Mase. Just… go to sleep’ you told him quietly, sliding off the bed but keeping your hand in his as you watched him drift off. All you could think about was how much of a pain in the arse he was but he was your pain in the arse and watching him sleep so peacefully made your eyes sting. You knew it was only a small procedure and in reality he would be fine but you’d never had a loved one in this position and it had freaked you out a bit. However seeing him okay after all of it calmed you and soon after he shut his eyes you let yourself drift off with him for 20 minutes.

Mason was in an out of sleep for an hour or two as the medication wore off but when the doctor came to do his rounds he was happy enough to discharge Mason later that night. His parents came back to pick you up around 9pm and you carefully got him into the back of the car to take him home.

You had work the next day so you left mason with his parents to be babied for the day but you loved coming home to dinner made for you by his mum and you sat on the sofa with Masons arms around you to the point it was a bit difficult to eat.

‘Come on Mase, give the girl some room’ Tony laughed and you felt Mason peel away from you shyly so you kissed his cheek and held his hand whilst eating with other. You loved that Mason was touchy you you didn’t want him to ever feel that his affections weren’t allowed or that he was overbearing and the small smile he gave you let you know he appreciated the fact you didn’t mind him touching you. If anything you were happy to be next to be next to him after worrying about him all day.

‘I bet you’re happy you’ve got the rest of the week off’ Debbie smiled as she took a seat, joining the rest of you and you nodding whilst finishing off what you had in your mouth.

‘Yeah, although I’m guessing the work doesn’t stop here huh?’ You laughed, looking down at Mason who laughed before nuzzling into your arm.

You were wrong though, asides from reminding him about his medication and having to get up and down to get him snacks and drinks, he was relatively easy to look after and soon enough Masons parents were packing up to leave.

‘Debbie?’ You quietly asked, stopping her in her tracks as you both let Tony go and pack the car up so the two of you were left alone at the front door. ‘I know it must be hard for you to leave him here with me when you’re used to looking after him but I promise I’ll take good care of him’ you told her, watching a wave of emotion roll over her features before pulling you into a tight hug.

‘I know you will, love. The no one else I’d leave him with apart from you’ she told you honestly, the pair of you looking at each other with glossy eyes as you pulled apart. ‘Now you call if you need absolutely anything. We’ll be here as quick as we can’

‘I will I promise’ you told her, both laughing at how emotional the other was before you quickly said goodbyes and you waved them off from the door. Once back inside you were rushing back to Mason but he was almost asleep again, the feeling of your presence alarming him and he looked around until he saw you so he could pull you over to join him. ‘We’re do you want me, Mase?’

He sat up a tiny bit, patting the space by his head for you to sit and once you had he rested his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and putting it straightaway into his hair so you could scratch over his scalp and you laughed at his neediness. Not that you could deny him in his current state as you just wanted to make him feel comfortable and loved.

‘Thank you for looking after me, I love you’ he mumbled, settling into your touch as you leant down to kiss his nose, whispering you loved him too as the corners of his lips curved up slightly.

You’d never really looked after another human before, apart from yourself, but Mason seemed content enough. Getting stronger as each day passed and when you got to the end of the week he was practically back to normal. The both of you were sat in the garden so you could enjoy the sun whilst you had lunch when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Who’s that love?’

‘Just freya, she’s asking how you are’

‘Oh that’s nice. When are you seeing her next?’

‘Well I was going to have dinner with her tomorrow but your operation threw everything up in the air a bit’ you laughed and he looked at you with a confused expression.

‘You can still go baby, I’m fine I promise’

‘I’m not leaving you on your own for the night’ you told him

‘You won’t be, Woody was talking about coming over tomorrow and you deserve some time away from me. You’ve been looking after me all week, love. I’ll be alright I promise’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Very sure. In fact, why don’t you ask her to come stay? You can hang out here if you’re worried that much and I can get you booked in at that restaurant you wanna go to in town so you can stay close’

‘But we were meant to go there together’

‘Just think of it as you scoping the place out first’ he laughed before pulling you into him. ‘Please baby, you deserve a treat’

‘You sure you’re not just trying to get rid of me’

‘Of course not’ he laughed, kissing your head. ‘I’m just making sure you’re looking after yourself and not just me’

‘I don’t know, Mase’

Mason huffed, standing up and grabbing your plates to take inside and you used the free time to text Freya back but she didn’t seem to want to reply until Mason got back and your phone started blowing up

‘Mason…’

‘Hush up. You’ve looked after me all week, let me look after you’ he told you, linking your fingers together before he laid his head back to catch some sun.

It was 2pm the next day when Freya arrived, and you couldn’t lie you were happy that she was there, pulling you into hug immediately and you felt your eyes brim with tears. Fraya had only moved back recently and you’d hung out a few times but this was the first time you hung out properly and after the week you’d had worrying over Mason you couldn’t wait to decompress and have some girl talk.

‘Here she is’ Mason cheered as he caught sight of the pair of you, joining in on your hug as he wrapped his arms around you both so you were all bundled together until you pulled away with a laugh.

‘Thanks for letting me stay Mason, it’s beautiful here’

‘You’re welcome. I can take your bag up for if you want’ he offered but she shook her head with a laugh.

‘Don’t be silly, I’ve got it’

‘Come on I’ll help’ you told her

‘Fine, I see how it is. I’m going to take a nap’ he huffed, walking back into the living room dramatically and you let him go so you could take Freya up to the spare room.

‘Shall we do your nails on the dining table? You can keep your eye on Mason then’ she asked, and you nodded your head, thankful she understood you.

‘Sorry I must look like a right melon, I bet he’s fine now but I’m still a bit worried’

‘Of course not. It’s hard seeing someone you love like that so i get it. He’s probably used to having you nearby too’ she smiled, reassuring you more than you thought you needed to be before you made your way back to where Mason was.

‘Missing me already huh?’ He laughed quietly and you dropped a quick kiss on his head as you walked passed which caused him to smile at you shyly.

‘Nah, she just doesn’t trust you enough to leave you on your own for five minutes’ Freya told him and he shrugged his shoulders in agreement.

‘Probably a wise choice’ he laughed before getting himself settled under his blanket.

You sat facing Mason, your eyes constantly flickering over to him as Freya sorted your nails out for you. Once she was done she smiled at you funny and you furrowed your brows at her, questioning why she was looking at you like that.

‘You really love him, dont you?’ She asked you seriously but you could see the small smile on her face and the question made you blush furiously. You couldn’t get any words out which was weird to you as you we’re usually so open with Freya but you could only nod as you averted your eyes to your hands. ‘I can tell. Considering I never thought this would happen It’s so lovely to see’

‘I never did thank you for stepping in and giving me a talking to when you did’ you laughed, finally looking up at her again. ‘So thank you. I really needed that push’

‘I know you did, that’s why I stuck my big nose in’ she laughed. ‘But i really am so happy for you’

‘Thank you Frey’ you whispered, both standing up to pull each other into a hug but the sound of Mason getting up made the pair of you look over in his direction. He was still half asleep, the left side of his cheek indented by the pillow whilst his hair looked mad but you swore you’d never seen anything more beautiful. The look he was giving you though made you both laugh as you clung to the other.

‘I don’t even wanna know’ he mumbled, stumbling out the room and towards the bathroom.

The pair of you spent the rest of the afternoon catching up until you figured it would be a good time to get ready for dinner. It wasn’t like where you were going was anywhere too fancy but you couldn’t remember the last time you got dressed up properly and you knew the two of you talking would only make you take even longer.

Once you were both done, you made you way back downstairs to see Woody already sat on the sofa and you gave him an enthusiastic wave as he smiled up at you.

‘Hey Woody. Where’s Mase gone?’

‘Holy shit balls’ you suddenly heard to the left of you and your turned to find Mason looking at you with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. ‘You look incredible’ he breathed whilst making his way over and you playfully rolled your eyes at Woody.

‘I think I found him’ you laughed as Mason came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before kissing your check multiple time. ‘Mase’ you giggled, trying to slink away but he just held you tighter. ‘Freya, come here and say hello to Woody’ you called and you watched his face change as she entered the room. The same look on his face when he saw the picture of her you’d showed him after Masons game.

‘Ah, wood chop. Nice to finally meet you’ she smiled and thankfully Woody laughed at his new nickname.

‘You too. Ive heard a lot about you’

‘All bad I hope’ she winked, causing you to laugh as you tried to pull away from Mason but he was having none of it.

‘Come on, Mase. We need to go in a sec’ you told him quietly but he held you tighter, moving his lips to your neck as you giggled at his clinginess.

‘Sorry baby, but you’re making things tough for me’ he laughed before starting to release you.

‘Ubers outside’ Freya called and you quickly turned to give Mason a kiss before walking out, ruffling Woodys hair as you walked passed.

‘I’ll text you, yeah? And call me if you need anything. If you don’t feel well I-‘

‘Will you go’ Mason laughed as he pushed you to the door and you raised you brow as you laughed at his sudden change of heart. ‘We’ll be fine, we’re just gonna play some games and order some food. Forget about me for a bit yeah?’

‘Never’ you winked, giving him one last kiss as you were pulled out of the door.

True to his word, Mason had managed to get you a table at the new restaurant you’d been dying to try and the waitress started off by letting you know Mason would be picking up the bill so Freya ordered two cocktails before telling you everything she wanted to order claiming it’s what Mason would of wanted.

‘He’s not dead, Frey. Jesus Christ’ you laughed but she was right. He’d only moan at you for not treating yourself so you ordered way more than you needed, knowing you could take it home as the boys would probably be peckish.

It felt nice to be out doing normal things. Not that you didn’t love spending time with Mason but spending all day at home worrying about him, worrying about if he was in pain or not and then doing all of the house work he couldn’t do on top was exhausting. But sat here with Freya as you gossiped about people from work and just generally caught up on each others lives was zapping life back into you.

You did cave and send him a cheeky text whilst she was talking to the waitress about the dessert specials but he was quick to let you everything was fine and they were still playing a few games.

You were full to burst by the end of it, barely able to get yourself into the Uber home but it was later than you though and you desperately wanted to back next to Mason again so you both forced yourself up. Both a little tipsy but nowhere near as bad as you usually were.

You called out for Mason as soon as you got the door open and you followed his voice to where you left him. A sleepy smile on his face and a beanie now on his head as he looked at you, dropping his controller instantly so he could open his arms for you and you fell into him as carefully as you could.

‘Hello baby, did you have a nice time?’ He asked, voice slightly muffled by your neck and he just about felt you nod, kissing your neck in response before you pulled back to look at each other. Missing his face after a few hours apart before he snuggled back into you. His arms around your waist as he placed his head onto your chest and you could help but push the hat off to feel his hair however you weren’t prepared for what you were met with next.

‘What the hell, Mason’ you laughed, grabbing him by his jaw so he’d look at you properly ’wheres your hair gone?’

‘Woody gave me a buzzcut’ he smiled before his face dropped a little. ‘Do you not like it?’

‘It’s not that’ you laughed, eyes scanning his face and you couldn’t help but notice how his features seemed to be lifted and his eyes even bigger. ‘It’s just a shock that’s all. Didn’t think you’d trust Woody anywhere near your hair’

‘He makes a convincing argument’ he smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Ever since the surgery it’s just been getting on my nerves and in my eyes so we thought we’d give it a go’

‘Well you’re still as beautiful as ever’ you told him quietly, dropping a kiss on his nose as he blushed.

‘What game are you guys playing?’ Freya asked as she took a seat next to Woody and she squealed with excitement as he told her. ‘Mount, are you still playing?’ She questioned, noticing how Woody was now winning as Mason had abandoned the game so he could hold you but he passed his controller over to her immediately so she could take over. Freya was as competitive as they come and was soon enough giving Woody a run for his money which he wasn’t very happy about.

You could feel Masons breathing slowly change, looking down to see him asleep on your chest and you felt your heart flutter at the sight of him. Stroking his cheek gently as you kissed the tip of his nose which caused him to stir slightly.

‘I’m gonna take this one up to bed if that’s alright’ you told them quietly as Mason woke up a bit more. ‘Will you two be alright?’

‘Yeah, don’t worry about us. We can sort ourselves out’ Freya told you, still focused on the game and Woody just nodded so you carefully pulled Mason up and walked him upstairs where you helped him get undressed and into bed before getting yourself ready to join him. By the time you were done he was sound asleep again, facing away from you so you crawled in next to him and wrapped your arms around his middle to spoon him before drifting off yourself.

The next morning you were awake before Mason and you didn’t have the heart to wake him up just yet so you quickly grabbed your phone from the night stand to catch up on everything you’d missed when no more than 30 seconds later a text from Freya came through.

You didn’t receive a reply but you saw the door open ever so slightly and Freya’s head pop around before she crept in and shut the door behind her.

‘What the hell Frey?’ You laughed as quietly as you could as she snuck over to the bed and gently got in next to you, both laughing your heads off but trying to keep quiet so Mason didn’t wake up.

‘Just because you share a bed with a boy now doesn’t mean I get to miss out on our morning chats’ she told you quietly and you pushed you face into the pillow to try and stop laughing too loudly.

The pair of your normally shared a bed or a room whenever you stayed together and you always reserved your morning to catch up on the night before. A tradition Freya clearly didn’t want to give up and you were thankful for Masons massive bed so the pair of you could scoot over away from him a little bit and hopefully not wake him him up with your gossiping. You’d been talking for a little bit until the topic changed to the night before.

‘What time did you go to bed last night?’

‘I think we headed up at like 1:30 in the end’ Freya told you and you picked up on her words instantly.

‘We huh?’ You teased and she rolled her eyes playfully at you but the blush on her cheeks let you know something was going on. ‘You minx, did you guys do it? Please don’t tell me you didn’t do it on the sofa cause I’ll have to get that cleaned’

‘Shut up’ she laughed, head falling into the pillow before looking back at you with even redder cheeks. ‘I didn’t fuck him, y/n. What do you take me for’

‘Well-‘

‘No, don’t answer that’ she huffed and you bit your lip to hold your giggles in. ‘We played a few games, I made us a drink and we sat outside and talked for a bit’

‘Aww’ you cooed, reaching out to tickle her slightly but she batted you off. ‘Did you get cold and he gave you his hoodie’ you teased and you could tell by the look on her face that he had. ‘Oh I love this so much’

‘Shut up’ she grumbled, attempting to hide her face but you pulled her hands away whilst laughing. ‘He’s sweet. And he was nice to me’

‘Did you kiss?’

‘Not exactly’

‘What does that mean?’ You laughed, trying to hold your excitement in so Mason didn’t wake up but you were far too invested in Freya’s story.

‘Well, when he walked me to my room he kissed my cheek before he went to his’ you told you and you’d never seen her so shy.

‘If Mason wasn’t asleep right now you know I’d be screaming’ you told her, both erupting into quiet giggles until you felt Mason stirring behind you.

You both froze as he rolled over, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulled you to him but the sound of both of you laughing caused Mason to snap his eyes open, his eyes immediately on Freya and you felt his body go stiff against yours.

‘Good morning sunshine, how did you sleep?’ Freya asked him playfully as you tried to hold your laughs in before turning you head to look at him. ‘I know it’s not everyday you wake up with two beautiful ladies in your bed but don’t be afraid’

‘What the fuck is happening’ he asked sleepily, eyes glancing down to you but you could see the slight smile on his lips.

‘Sorry baby, we were just having a chat’ you explained and he nodded before settling back down behind you. ‘We can head out if you’d like’

‘Its fine. Just pretend I’m not here’ he said quietly before kissing the back of your neck so he could go back to sleep.

The pair of you continued chatting for another half an hour or so until you could feel Masons tummy rumbling against you and you decided to wake him up so you could make him some breakfast. As soon as Woody walked into the kitchen you felt the dynamic shift and Mason looked at you with wide eyes as he caught on to what might be happening as Woody took a seat next to Freya.

‘Please tell me they didn’t have sex last night. Like I’m not against it but I’m not cleaning woody’s spunky sheets’

‘They didn’t have sex, Mase’ you laughed, both hiding behind the door of the fridge so you could talk in secret. ‘But they were up for a few hours talking last night and apparently he kissed her cheek’

‘Soft bastard’

‘Go sit with them’ you laughed but he just held you tighter to his body. ‘I’ll bring your food over in a sec’

‘No I’m scared. I’m staying with you’ he laughed until you heard Woody calling Mason over.

‘Oi, what are you doing in the fridge?’

‘I’m helping make breakfast’ he lied before you gently nudged him away and he reluctantly made his way over to them. You could head Woody gushing about much better Freya was to play against, not listening to Masons excuses of him still being a sick man and his hand was straight in yours when you finally took a seat next to him. ‘You still think I’m great don’t you baby’ he smiled, kissing your nose as he squeezed your fingers.

‘Always’ you smiled and before long Freya excused herself to go to the loo. Woody looked like a deer caught in headlights as you both turned to face him, a deep blush on his cheeks as he knew what you were both thinking.

‘Look, before you say anything, it’s not what it looks like. Nothings happened or whatever-‘

‘Woody, it’s fine’ you laughed, giving him a reassuring smile but you weren’t prepared for Mason to be bad cop in this situation.

‘You don’t have to explain anything, but I swear to god mate you hurt her even a tiny bit it won’t be her you need to worry about’ he told him, gesturing to you. ‘Freya’s a good girl and she’s always stuck up for me so just keep that in mind’ he said seriously and even though it was making you laugh that mason was being protective it also made you extremely happy that he was looking out for the people closest to you.

‘Ignore him Woody, I think you’re very cute together. You’ll be good for her she needs someone to soften her up’

‘You two are unbelievable’ Woody laughed, standing up so he could grab himself come cereal out of the cupboard and you couldn’t ignore the way he grabbed two bowls.

‘Thank you’ you whispered to Mason but he looked back at you with a confused stare. ‘For looking out for Freya’

‘You don’t need to thank me’ he smiled, his face softening as he kissed your forehead. ‘It’s nothing’

‘I know it’s normal to you but it’s special to me you’ explained, leaning forward to connect your lips together for a soft kiss but Mason had other ideas, pulling you into him further and holding you by your jaw so you wouldn’t pull away until you heard a scoff from in front of you. Looking up to see Freya picking up hers and woody’s cups of tea.

‘You fancy going in the other room, Woody? I cant be expected to eat here and try and keep my breakfast down while they’re sucking face’ she joked, the pair of you laughing as they walked out, leaving you on your own.

‘Finally, thought they’d never leave’ Mason laughed, pulling your face back to his so he could kiss you again.

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07

229 notes · View notes

daisyblog · 4 months

Text

Burnout

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and Louis help YN.

Based on this request.

Warning: grief, anxiety, loss of a loved one, fainting, emotional distress, emotional burnout, hospital

Losing any special person in your life is hard. It leaves an empty hole in your heart. YN had experienced losing her first friend, her best friend, her biggest supporter…her Mum. But losing her little sister was a pain she’d never felt before.

She remembers going to the hospital when her Mum had given birth to Felicite, her Dad eager for her, Louis and baby Lottie to meet their new sister. She can remember seeing the tiny baby cuddled in her Mums arms, wrapped in a light pink blanket. She can see herself clearly placing the tiny bunny, she had bought from the shop with her Nan the day before, in the the hospital cot next to her Mum’s bed.

As the Tomlinson sisters got older, so their love for make up, hair and fashion took over. YN can remember them all gathering together in her bedroom, each taking it in turns to do each others hair and makeup. All sitting and giggling at how messy the room got from their hours of fun.

YN used to get annoyed at every family gathering, when an older uncle would always make a joke at how much taller Felicite was compared to her. But right now she would do anything to go back and cherish this moment of her younger sister laughing and poking fun too.

---

Around 3pm on Wednesday afternoon, the sound of their buzzer persistently being rung caught Harry and YN’s attention, as they were both sat in the living area making the most of a quiet day off together.

Harry frowned, finding it unusual that they had unexpected visitors. When he saw Louis on the camera, he didn’t think twice about allowing him in.

He opened the front door, and instantly had a bad feeling. Louis didn’t say a word as he walked past Harry, but the redness and his stained teared cheeks told him it wasn’t good.

YN smiled as Louis walked in excited to see her brother, but her grin suddenly dropped when she noticed his appearance. “Lou, what’s wrong?”.

Louis stood in the middle of the room, YN and Harry both waiting for him to speak. But now that Louis had to say the words out loud, he couldn’t. Harry and YN shared a look, concerned at what Louis was going to say.

Louis took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It’s Felicite.”. The tears pouring down his cheeks, told YN every thing.

At the realisation that they had lost their baby sister, YN launched herself into Louis arms. Her fingers clenched around the fabric of his sweatshirt, Louis holding onto YN, scared of losing her too.

Once again, Harry felt useless. He lent against the wall in pure shock that the people closest to him was having to go through losing someone else in such a short amount of time. Watching YN sob into her brother’s arms, pulled on his heart as it thumped hard against his chest. The sound of her sniffling, broke him inside as he held himself together on the outside.

“I can’t do this, I can’t…not again!” YN spoke into Louis chest as the tears ran one after the other down her cheeks, leaving wet steaks in their memory. He held her tighter, knowing how much this was hurting her - because he too felt the same. Harry had to look up to the ceiling to stop his own from falling.

Leaving out a deep breath he was holding, Harry knew what he had to do. He walked over to the two and pulled them both into his embrace. He left a long peck to YN’s head and gave Louis’ shoulder a squeeze.

After a while of comforting each other, Harry trying to do everything he could to look after them both. Listening to their memories, listening to their sobs and reassuring them both that he was going to be by their side every step of the way. Harry glanced over to see after hours of crying and grieving they were both fast asleep on the sofa, Teddy cuddled into YN’s side, he decided to leave them rest and Harry placed a large blanket of the two of them.

---

It had been a few days since Felicite had passed, and YN and Harry were travelling to Doncaster to be closer to her grandparents. Harry knew the next few days and weeks were going to be hard, but Harry wasn’t expecting YN to become silent. She sat in the passenger seat with Teddy on her lap as Harry drove, her body turned slightly towards the door as she held her arms around her and stared out of the window.

“Do you want to listen to music?” Harry asked as he flicked his eyes over to her quickly. YN didn’t blink, more, speak, nothing. She stared out of the car window, not making a sound.

“Do you want to stop for something to eat, or to stretch our legs?” Harry tried again. But still nothing.

Harry was trying to support her, he couldn’t even imagine how she was feeling right now. He felt empty himself, he had been apart of the Tomlinsons lives for nine years and had seen YN’s sisters grow into young women, so he too was grieving.

Arriving at YN’s grandparents house, Harry watched YN walk in front of him with Teddy in her arms and bypass everyone in the kitchen and to what he could only assume was into the cosy conservatory at the back of the house.

Jen, Len and Louis looked between each other, not once had YN ever not greeted or acknowledged them.

“Harry, love…is everything okay?”. Jen looked at him, concern written all over her face. Her eyes desperately wanting an answer.

Harry let out a big sigh. “She hasn’t spoken for what feels like days, and I get it but I’m really scared somethings going to happen.”.

“I’ll go and speak with her.”. Louis announced as he got up from his seat, walking in the direction where YN disappeared to.

Louis wandered around trying to find where his sister had hidden herself away. He was about to call for Harry when he couldn’t find her, but then a small figure caught his eye. He could see YN tucked up, her knees resting against her body as she stared into space. Louis noticed the small candle burning on the side table next to her and a photo of their Mum, Teddy looking up at him with pleading eyes from his place on the floor.

“Hey Tiny…am I going to have the silent treatment too?”. Louis tried to ease in a joke, hoping it would get a reaction out of YN. But when YN didn’t move or speak, he continued. “I guess so…I’ll make the most of your silence then and do all the fookin’ talking.”.

Louis took a seat in the chair opposite his sister. When he looked at YN, he could see that she was just staring almost like she was in a daze. “I know this isn’t easy Kiddo, believe me I’m putting on a brave face at the moment…trying to make sure the girls and Nan and Grandad are okay.”.

“We’re going to get through this…together! We’re strong, Mum taught us how to be strong”. Louis reinforced how their Mum always showed them that as long as they all had eachother they could get through anything. “Also, you and Harry are in a good place again…and he wants to be there for you…so please let him”.

---

Harry couldn’t help but wonder what Louis may have said to YN when he went to look for her earlier on. But he was pleasantly surprised when she rolled over in bed next to him and lifted his arm so she could cuddle into his side. He placed a sweet peck to her head, followed with an “I love you”.

The commotion and several voices downstairs woke Harry. He could see the light sky shining through the bedroom window but he was glad to see YN peacefully asleep, her hands tucked under her cheek and like normal Teddy was cuddled up on his blanket at the end of the bed.

Harry put on his shorts, t shirt and hoodie before he went downstairs and was greeted with the smell of an English breakfast. Jen greeted him and told him to help himself to the breakfast spread she had been cooking.

Louis appeared from the living room, a cup of tea in his hand. “How was she last night?”. He brought the mug up to his lips to take a sip.

“I’m not sure what you said but she let me comfort her”. Harry explained a grateful smile on his face. “She still hasn’t spoken but small steps”.

“She’ll be alright, she’s a strong woman”. Louis reassured him.

Harry and Louis got lost in conversation, as they both ate some breakfast together, both sipping on their mugs of tea. But breaking them from their conversation was Teddy’s feet running towards Harry and barking loudly at him.

“Hey bud!” Harry went to pick the small dog up, but when Teddy jumped away barking and running towards the stairs and then back to Harry, alarm bells went off for them. “Shit..it must be YN”.

Harry ran up the stairs, following Teddy’s steps and Louis right behind them. Teddy ran towards the bathroom, where the sound of the water from the shower could be heard. The two of them were petrified at what they were about to face.

“YN? Babe?”. Harry shouted towards the bathroom door but the silence was loud. The anxiety bubbled up inside of Harry’s chest whilst Louis also shouted his sister’s name.

Harry wasted no time and opened the bathroom door, where they could see YN on the floor, her eyes closed as she laid still but her body shivered. Whilst Harry ran straight to her and kneeled down next time her, Louis ran to get a blanket from the cupboard and grabbed his phone ready to call for an ambulance.

---

Hours had felt like weeks for Harry and Louis as they sat in a small private waiting room, wanting answers. As much as their grandparents wanted to be there too, Louis had reassured them that Lottie and the twins needed them at home.

“I swear I’m going fookin’ grey”. Louis broke the silence with a joke. Explaining how all the worry and stress was going to turn his hair grey.

“They’re all really lucky to have you, you know that”. Harry nudged Louis shoulder slightly. “You’re one of a kind as a brother, looking after them all.”.

Louis looked down, not wanting to accept the compliment. “They would all do the same for me…plus that’s what big brothers are for”.

The door opening, Interrupted their heartwarming conversation. A female doctor entered, a file filled with a paper in her hands. “YN Tomlinson’s family?”. When Harry and Louis both responded, she continued. “We’ve ran some tests and we’ve come to the conclusion that YN may have experienced a drop in blood pressure, which is why she fainted”.

“Is she alright? Is she going to be okay?”. Harry panicked, worry evident in his voice as he sat on the edge of the seat.

“YN is okay, but we given her some medication to keep her body rested as she was showing signs of stress.”. The doctor explained, looking between Harry and Louis. “Has YN experienced anything that may have caused her to become anxious or stressed?”.

Louis took a breath before the words had to slip from his mouth. “Uh we…um…our sister passed away a few days ago and…our Mum passed just over two years ago.”.

“I am sorry for your loss”. A sincere comment was made by the doctor. “That does explain why we would think that YN has experienced emotional burnout.”.

“Is there anything that could help her, she hasn’t spoken much or anything these past few days?”. Harry eagerly wanted to help, at this point he was willing to do anything.

The doctor took a seat opposite where Harry and Louis were sat. “There are different services out there that may benefit you all as a family, that could support with grief but YN would have to decide if she wants the support and possibly if she is feelings this much emotion…which is completely understandable…then you may want to support through counselling.”.

Harry and Louis shared a look, wondering what the next few days were going to look like for them.

It had been a few more hours until they allowed Harry and Louis into the room to see YN. As they walked into the hospital room, they could see YN sleeping in the bed. A white sheet covered her body to keep her warm and a cannula was attached to her hand.

Harry went straight to her side and held onto her hand that was free from any tubes and wires, and he placed a gentle peck. “I know you love to keep me on my toes but you’ve almost given me a heart attack today”.

“I’ll give you some time alone, I’ve got to ring me Nan and fill her in on anything…I’ll be right outside”. Louis explained, walking over to place a kiss on YN’s forehead before leaving the room.

Harry moved YN’s hair away from her face with his gentle fingers. “I’m going to help you through this…I promise!”.

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

146 notes · View notes

diazsdimples · 4 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

Don't look at me, I'm working on another wip 🙈. This is from the 3rd chapter of With you I'm home, my beloved Dad!Buck sequel that I so cruelly abandoned in favour of, well, everything. But today I wrote a snippet of Eddie telling Christopher about his and Buck's plans for a new baby. Please enjoy (under the cut cause it's kinda long sorry)!

I was tagged for Tease Tidbit Tuesday by @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @exhuastedpigeon @tizniz @kitteneddiediaz @wikiangela and @elvensorceress (count this as your Wednesday tag) and WIP Wednesday tag by @theotherbuckley

Eddie pauses, searching Christopher’s face to gauge any kind of reaction, positive or negative. Christopher’s expression remains blank, but he does nod slowly, his eyes narrowing a little bit.

“How would that work?” he asks, and he flushes as he realises the implications of the question, quickly adding on, “And I don’t mean like, sex, because I know about all that, but how would you and Buck having a baby work?”

Eddie quietly tucks away the bit of information that, somehow, his 13-year-old son knows about sex for God’s sake and explains it the way him and Buck talked about.

“Well, we’d thought about maybe adopting, and that’s still an option but we agreed that we’d like another biological child, cause you and Aidan are so cute. And Buck suggested that, because he’s got Aidan, that maybe the new baby could be my biological kid. So, we’d use my sperm, and would find an egg donor, and then you’d have a baby brother or sister,” he finishes lamely.

Eddie looks at Christopher, who hasn’t moved a muscle since he started talking, and gently nudges his leg. “Whatcha thinking bud? Have you got any questions?”

Christopher flicks his eyes upwards, locking onto Eddie’s, and Eddie notices with a jolt that they’re dark and angry, not at all the picture of the little boy he remembers when they’d just moved here, or even the kid that had been so excited for Buck and Aidan to move in with them.

“Yeah,” says Christopher, quietly. “Yeah, I have got a question.”

It’s his tone of voice that makes Eddie realise that somehow, somewhere, something has gone terribly wrong. Christopher has never been one for true, proper anger, usually falling back on snippy comments and snide remarks, but right now Eddie can see a mixture of irritation, fury, and worst of all, hurt all swirling behind his son’s eyes.

“Okay – uh – what is it?” Eddie asks.

Christopher’s jaw ticks. “Am I not good enough for you?”

The question hits Eddie like a physical blow and he recoils, feeling as though he’s suddenly had a bucket of icy water thrown over him.

“W-what? Chris why would you ever – God, no, you’re more than enough!” he stammers, but it’s clearly not enough as Christopher rolls his eyes and lets out a small, cold laugh.

“Really? Then why would you use your sperm?” Christopher’s eyes flash as he speaks, and he pushes himself further up the bed so his legs are no long touching Eddie. “Is it because of my CP? You want another chance at having a normal kid, so you’re using your sperm? You want to be able to have a child that’s perfect and not so damn broken like I am? Is that it?”

“Christopher!” Eddie gasps, aghast. It’s like he’s watching the perfect ideation of his life crumbling in front of him, the new baby being cuddled by his two sons, delighted by the arrival of a new sibling a dream fading quickly. “You know I would never replace you! Jesus, Chris, I love you so much, Buck loves you so much! We don’t think you’re broken; how could you say that?”

Christopher’s lip curls, twisting his face into an ugly grimace, and Eddie watches with dismay as a small part of the baby he’d cuddled 13 years ago slips away from him.

“Bullshit” Christopher spits out.

“I beg your pardon? You do not use language like that in this house, young man!”

Christopher leaps to his feet, standing in front of Eddie, and it’s now as he’s confronted with his son, rage-filled and looming over him, that Eddie realises him and Buck have made a very serious miscalculation.

Christopher glares down at his father, his chest heaving as the breathes heavily. “Well, it is bullshit! If you actually loved me then you wouldn’t be trying to replace me! You are full of shit!”

Something inside Eddie snaps, releasing all the anger and frustration he’s felt towards his stroppy teenager for the last 4 months, and Eddie’s on his feet before he knows it, towering over his son. Christopher has the good grace to cower a little bit.

“That’s it,” Eddie says, his voice remarkably measured for someone who feels as though the entire earth has just dropped out from beneath him, leaving him suspended in a hellish limbo between being a good father, and emulating Ramon Diaz. “You’re grounded. No screens or friends for a month. You never, ever speak to me like that again, got it?”

Christopher’s fists are balled at his sides and Eddie can see his small frame shaking in anger. His knuckles are white, and Eddie imagines that if he were to uncurl his son’s fists, he’d find crescents where his nails have dug into his palms. He braces himself for the inevitable fallout, the kicking and screaming and swearing, apparently, that comes with grounding a teenager, but instead, Christopher looks up at him, his lower lip wobbling and his eyes swimming behind a film of tears. He blinks and the tears spill over, running down his cheeks.

“I hate you,” he whispers, barely loud enough to be audible, but Eddie catches it nonetheless. It cuts deep, slicing Eddie’s heart into a million tiny pieces and scattering them to the wind as he watches his son storm from the room. Eddie sits heavily on the edge of Christopher’s bed and drops his head into his hands, trying to swallow down the rapidly rising lump in his throat.

What the fuck just happened?

No pressure tagging @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @puppyboybuckley @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @pirrusstuff @housewifebuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @smilingbuckley

#:)#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #911 #eddie x buck #christopher diaz

54 notes · View notes

kai-anderson-whore · 1 year

Text

High by the skatepark (Tate Langdon x reader)

Summary: you and tate are best friends and usually get high at the skate park but with what tate said and did left you confused

Warnings: mentions of being high, weed, drugs, fluff

Word count: 1,12k

Taglist: @spill-the-t @iluwmycats @lili-tate @evanpeterswifeyy868 @jademunson @evanpetersfansblog @howtobesasha @lustforeverrrr @fand0mh03

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

You were having a rough day at school the popular girls picking on you as per usual, all because you were different you didn't like all the top hits on the radio, you liked older gloomy music and dressed in baggy jeans and hoodies, you just wanted to go home, you wanted the day to be over.

You stood by your locker alongside your best friend and neighbour tate who was just like you, the outsider just you and him against everyone, "what you doing after school?" Tate asked leaning againt the locker beside you as you rummaged through your own to grab your books for your last class you have with tate, "nothing that i know of unless your dragging me out somewhere" you chuckled knowing fine well tate will infact drag you out the house.

"We're going to the skate park" he simply said you shot him a confused look knowing tate hates public places, "why?" You asked closing your locker, "because I've got spliff and it's a Wednesday no one will be there" he shrugged you let out a soft smile tate knew you too well when your stressed a joint would tate your mind off it "Well tater tot sounds like a plan" you replied walking with him to class.

After school you and tate walked to meet his dealer in a run down alleyway, you hated this part of the city since it was infamous for the crime that happens here, "Hey man" tate said to the dealer pretending to go in for a handshake but really he was handing the money and getting the drugs, with that you both left the dealer.

"Skate park now?" Tate asked walking alongside you, "Yeah let's go" you said, once you got to the skatepark you both sat on one of the biggest ramps tate rolling the joints you were assigned to have the music on the boombox you grabbed on your way here.

"What do you want I've got the pixies, mazzy star, nirvana" you listed before tate immediately said "nirvana" making you laugh, playing the in utero album your favourite from the album playing the first song 'serve the servants' you sang along to the chorus as tate handed you the spliff humming along to the song.

"Serve the servants oh no" you mumbled to yourself feeling the buzz of the weed in your head making you feel relaxed, "you high already?" Tate asked with a chuckle "no" you said taking another drag of the spliff laying on the ground as nirvana played.

"You definitely are" tate teased taking a drag of the joint his eyes felt heavy he couldn't help but have a lazy smile on his lips, "who's stoned now?" You remarked giggling like a child, "your mean" tate huffed in-between giggles.

"This is pretty good stuff" you noted taking another drag feeling the munchies kick in, "did you bring snacks?" Tate asked knowing your the only one of the two that came prepared since tate always forgets what he needs, "you know me to well look in the bag" you nodded your head gesturing to your bag tate grabbed your bag opening it to see its contents.

"Oh my god y/n I could kiss you right now you brought cookies" he beamed like a child on Christmas day, "I knew you would want them so i brought them so we don't have to go to the store again high" you giggled still laying on the ground the joint slowly burned down as nirvana kept playing.

You didn't bother with what tate said but in reality you had a crush on your best friend. You didn't know where it had came from it just happened for you. He didn't know thankfully but it ate you up knowing he'll probably never feel the same.

"Your such a life saver I seriously could really kiss you right now" he repeated not realising he had, "then why don't you" you joked kinda your eyes locked the mood instantly changed from joking and banter to complete seriousness.

You didn't realise how close you both were till tate closed the very small gap between you both his lips on yours, you instantly froze unsure what to do but your lips collided with his either way.

You finally properly responded to his kiss your lips moved in sync his he swiped his tongue on your bottom lip seeking entry which you granted. Your tongues moving in sync for the first time ever.

It was something you never thought would happen but it is happening. Pulling away from the kiss you couldn't help but giggle like a child tate looked at you confused but chuckled at you nervously, "is it the weed that's making you laugh or was the kiss that bad" he asked his eyes half shut his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"It's the weed the kiss was perfect I'm just giggling because I never thought that would happen" you explained hiding your face in embarrassment. Tate's hand cupped your chin bring your face to his, "well it did and I don't regret it" he smiled placing a chaste kiss on your lips making you melt like putty in his hands.

"Come on let's go home" tate said helping you up on your feet.

The walk was silent you could feel the weed slowly come out your system. You wondered if tate really meant what he said or not but decided not to push on it, you finally made it to your house you didn't know what to say neither did tate you both just looked at each other eyes speaking a thousand words but your mouth wasn't.

Tate couldn't help himself anymore he cupped your face in his hands one more time. Pressing his lips to yours your hand went to his cheek holding him close to you. You couldn't help but let out a small moan into his mouth before pulling away. A smirk plastered across tates face.

"Your so beautiful" he sighed his thumb grazing over your cheekbone, "your not so bad yourself Langdon" you teased before pulling yourself away clearing your throat. "I should go inside now I'll see you tomorrow morning" you said blushing lightly, "see you tomorrow" tate said waiting till you were right inside your house like always before walking to his house next door.

You ran up to your bedroom your mind rushing with what had happened tate kissed you not once but TWICE you couldn't believe it. You never thought tate saw you as anything more than a friend but you were proved wrong only thing was you didn't know what this means for your friendship.

170 notes · View notes

coloursflyaway · 23 days

Text

Won’t Fear Love (5/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.600

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

or:

Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

Charles won’t tell him where they are going. Again.

It’s the second Wednesday of the month, just after five pm and Charles just takes him to the mirror in the office, hand lightly grasping Edwin’s wrist, and expects him to walk through with him. Now, for someone else, this could be exciting, but Edwin has never really appreciated surprises, not even by the person he loves most in the world.

He’s about to ask Charles again, but he’s beaten to it, because Charles smiles and slips his hand down until he can intertwine their fingers, then asks, “Do you trust me?” What an utterly preposterous question.

Does he trust Charles? More than anything else in the world, more than himself.

Edwin sighs, resists the urge to roll his eyes and Charles’ smile makes up for it tenfold, no matter if it is a little smug around the edges. Maybe he has a right to be.

The world fades and appears again, and Edwin expected something different. He’s not quite sure what, but behind the mirror is the roof of their own building, the sun bright and the sky blue for a change.

“I know this is probably not as extravagant as you imagined it”, Charles starts to explain, almost sounding bashful, as if Edwin would care about where they are spending their evening and not simply about who he is spending it with. “I had something else planned, but then I saw the weather and I thought it would be such a shame to waste it. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Disappointed by you? Never”, Edwin answers and it should feel like saying too much, but it doesn’t. Instead of an answer, he gets a smile that puts the sun to shame, and a tug to his wrist as Charles pulls him forward.

“We have discussed the problem with how much of dating revolves around food before, I know, but I wanted to prepare at least something so it’s not just us sitting on the roof and watching the sunset”, he explains, looking a little sheepish as he takes Edwin to where a chequered picnic blanket is spread across the rough concrete. “It’s probably a bit silly, but I just wanted to do something special.”

He’s leaving out part of the sentence, Edwin can hear it clearly, but it takes a moment until he fills in the blanks: for you. Charles wanted to do something special for him, and Edwin feels his non-existent heart seize up in his chest; doesn’t know how Charles hasn’t yet realised that anything he does for him is special to Edwin.

“So, I got all this”, Charles says and sits down, pulling Edwin with him. Next to him is a picnic basket that looks like it’s been taken directly out of a movie, made from wicker and with a small handle to carry it across open fields, before settling down next to a creek, or maybe in the shade of an old oak tree. And then, Charles whips it open.

Inside, packed tightly to fit everything, is an assortment of children’s toys.

Colourful plastic moulded into facsimiles of cake slices and finger sandwiches. Dollops of whipped cream made from styrofoam, different kinds of fruit that look like they have been felted, rubber croissants that still look fluffy, delightful in an unreal way. Tucked in around the toys are cups and plates made from fine china, metal cutlery, a tea pot that Edwin knows he has seen in Crystal’s kitchen before.

It’s silly, Charles is right. It’s the most lovely thing Edwin has ever seen in his life.

“You, Charles Rowland”, he starts and has to blink back a tear or two, “are the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“So you like it?”, Charles asks, like he still isn’t certain of the answer, but he smiling at Edwin, he’s still holding his hand, thumb brushing over Edwin’s knuckles. “I love it”, he answers; adds, if only in thoughts, I love you.

“Charles, would you pass me a slice of cake?”, Edwin asks after they have watched the sunlight for a little while, comfortable silence stretching between them. “It looks scrumptious.” “You want me to-”, Charles starts and then stops himself, a smile blooming on his face that makes Edwin think of falling, makes him think of flying. “Yes, of course. Would you like some tea with that?”

“That would be delightful”, Edwin replies and takes the delicate cup Charles hands him. “Also, maybe some of that clotted cream?”

And they have a picnic right there on the rooftop, sharing smiles and little touches and plastic pastries alike.

There are children’s toys strewn around them, mostly forgotten, and they are still sitting on the picnic blanket, watching as the sun sets over London. It’s beautiful up here, enough distance between them and the city to drown out the noise and make it feel like it’s just them, and while Edwin likes their new life with all the new people it includes, he misses this sometimes. Misses a world in which he never looked up and not saw Charles next to him, a world in which they had been so intertwined that Edwin never considered it could be otherwise.

What he doesn’t miss, though, is not knowing what the warmth in his chest is when he looks over at Charles. Maybe it was easier back then, when he thought the urge to touch Charles was nothing more than friendship, but it’s better now. Because Charles deserves to be loved, and Edwin, above all else, wants to be the one to love him.

If they end this experiment and Charles decides that he only wants Edwin as a friend, then so be it. Edwin will love him to the fullest extent, the best of his ability, as long as he exists. And that, in the end, would be enough.

“What are you thinking about?”, Charles asks softly, and Edwin tears his gaze away from where the sun is just so touching the outlines of the skyscrapers in the distance. He’s beautiful, something Edwin has known since the first moment he had set eyes on Charles, freezing and scared and dying and yet so ready to accept Edwin in his life. Maybe that had been the moment all of this had started, not when Charles had chosen to stay with him, because Edwin’s love had never been about reciprocation, but when he had first allowed Edwin to sit down next to him and granted him a smile.

“Nothing in particular”, he replies, and knows that Charles won’t believe him, but that’s alright. It’s not like it is something he is trying to hide, just something they don’t have to discuss right now, when the sun is setting and he’s still buzzing from their fingers brushing when they pretended to split a croissant between them.

And Charles doesn’t bring it up, just nods and scoots a little closer until their shoulders are pressed together. He’s not looking at Edwin, but out across the city, so Edwin does the same, lets his head rest against Charles’ shoulder and wishes he could breathe in deeply, make out Charles’ scent between everything else this moment has to offer.

“You know”, Charles says, and shifts so he can wrap his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, holding him close. “I think about you a lot. Always have, really. And all this dating hasn’t made it less, but I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

He shifts again, and for a horrible moment, Edwin thinks he will pull away, but then there are lips pressing against the crown of his head, and instead, time stands still, lets him take it in. It feels like peace, like excitement, like something Edwin could live without but never wants to again.

“And you know I love you, don’t you?”, Charles says and time moves again, makes Edwin’s heart ache and jubilate at the same time. He does. “I love you the most.”

Edwin nods without moving his head, wishes he could feel the coarse fabric of Charles’ jacket against his cheek, the heat of his blood beneath it. For a moment he wants to repeat the words, because they are true, but Charles already knows. Might have always known.

A finger on the side of his chin, gently lifting it, and Charles is saying, “Hey, look at me for a sec?”

And Edwin sits up, Charles’ arm sliding off his shoulders as he turns to face him. He misses it almost immediately, but there is something in Charles’ eyes that makes it so easy to forget the fact. They are warm and dark and they are watching Edwin like he is something precious, something worth keeping.

There are no words, Charles just looks at him, and it’s almost like a physical touch; it makes Edwin shiver, even though he cannot feel it. Because Charles is smiling like he has never smiled before, lets the finger that is still resting against Edwin’s jaw slide downwards until he can gently grasp his chin, as if he was afraid that Edwin could ever look away again.

A moment, a breath, and then Charles leans in and brushes the softest, the sweetest kiss against his lips.

It’s not his first, but it feels like it anyway, feels like a beginning and feels like an end. Let me have this, he thinks, not for the first time. Let me love him.

And then, he doesn’t think anymore at all, and kisses Charles back.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #one more chapter to go ano i already miss this fic

38 notes · View notes

pensat-i-fet · 1 year

Text

Wrong player, right time: Part 1 (Pablo Gavi, Pedri x Reader)

Part 2

**Hi! 😊 So...I was asked to write some sort of love triangle and while I liked the idea, I thought I could do something a bit different. Hopefully you like it. And because this ended up being so long, it’s divided in two. The next part will be posted tomorrow so not a lot of waiting 😉 Enjoy!! ❤️**

Word count: 5177

Masterlist

Wattpad

“I got a present for you”.

Your mum’s words made you look up. “Why?”

“For passing your exam. And it kind of is related to that”.

You frowned slightly, smiling at the same time. Last year, you decided to retake a few classes to get a higher grade and study the major you really wanted to study in university. It had been a crazy decision to many but you were sure of it and it paid off. You got the grade you needed and were accepted at the university in Barcelona.

“Ok, tell me!”

“You are going to Barcelona this weekend. I want you to be able to know the city better and to see the area where you’ll be living”.

“Mum! Oh my God!”

Getting up, you ran to hug your mum.

“And…I might have gotten a ticket for the football match too”.

“Stop! You’re the best! Thank you!”

“You’ve worked hard and deserve it. Once you start the uni year, there won’t be time for much fun”.

There was no time to waste. It was Wednesday and your flight was on Friday, so you needed to pack everything and start planning. You had been to Barcelona before but never for too long, so this was a great opportunity to familiarize yourself with the beautiful city.

The weather was supposed to be good, so you packed a lot of cute summery outfits. The sun didn’t bless you with its presence as often in your home city of Santander, so it was also something else you could enjoy during the weekend.

You barely got any sleep the night before your trip and after checking you had your boarding pass and your ID about seventy times, you made your way to the small airport.

The flight was quick and soon you found yourself on your way to the hotel you would stay at the next couple of days. You pretty much threw the suitcase on the floor and went out again to see the city.

And that was how you spent the Friday and Saturday in Barcelona, trying to see as much as you could and visiting the student residence where you were going to live once you moved there.

Sunday was going to be your last full day there but it was also the most exciting. Finally, you were going to visit the Camp Nou. Actually, you visited it as a kid but couldn’t remember being there. But now it was time to fully enjoy the experience.

The atmosphere was incredible. You usually went to watch matches when Racing de Santander played at home but your main team was Barça. And, funnily enough, a former Racing player was now playing for Barça. You had met him a few times but doubted he would remember you. Players met so many people every day.

“First time?”

“Pardon?”, you asked, turning to look at the man on the seat next to yours.

“You look like it’s your first time here. And like a kid in a toy store”.

“Yes”, you laughed. “I’ve been wanting to watch a match here my entire life”.

“Well, let’s hope it’s a good one”.

While it wasn’t the match of the century, it was quite entertaining. Barça went 2-0 up early and got to play a bit more relaxed after a couple of not-so-great results.

The second half meant a few players you didn’t get to see up close before were now playing near the area where you were sitting. One of those players was the famous Gavi. You couldn’t lie and pretend you weren’t one of those girls who thought he was really cute. But the one you liked the most, Pedri, was injured. So it was a bummer you didn’t get to see him play. Oh well, Gavi was a good substitute.

“Gavi! Look at all the space those defenders are leaving near the box. Use it!”

You didn’t even realise you were yelling. You never did. And it’s not as if the rest of the fans were quiet but Gavi was very close to your seat and heard your words.

“Ok, coach!”, he said, looking at you and smiling at your surprised face.

“I…”.

“You’re blushing”, laughed the man that had introduced himself as José. You had been chatting a bit during the match.

“I feel so silly. I never realise they can hear me. I’m too used to screaming at the tv”.

That only made him laugh more.

A couple of minutes later, the ball fell on Gavi’s feet again and the defenders left the same space you had warned him about before. And he took the chance to run to the box and give a pass to Lewandowski that gave Barça their third goal.

Everyone got up to cheer and when you finally sat down, you saw Gavi walking towards you, a big smile on his face.

“Thanks for the heads up!”

“Eh…you’re welcome?”

José’s laugh could probably be heard back at your parent’s house. God, you were so embarrassed.

The match ended with a 3-0 win for Barça and you couldn’t be happier with that result. It was the perfect ending to your weekend. But…there was more that was going to happen before you went back home.

“Someone wants to talk to you”, said José.

“Who?”

You looked at where he was pointing and saw Gavi walking towards you while taking his shirt off. He gestured for you to get closer so he could give you the shirt and you walked almost not believing what was happening.

“For me?”

“Yes. We wouldn’t have scored that third goal without your advice. I’ll tell Xavi that if he needs some help, I know the right person”.

You giggled, blushing. “I’m free for the next match if he needs me”.

“I would love to see you on the bench. You wouldn’t be as far from me then”.

Not knowing what to say, you extended your arm to get the shirt. And once you had it, Gavi left to join his teammates.

“He was flirting with you”, said Jóse, making you blush even more.

You put the shirt on your face, trying to hide. But it was too late. The cameras had seen it all.

Gavi expected you to post something about getting his shirt on Instagram, so he kept checking the photos he was tagged in on social media…but nothing. You were nowhere to be found.

He was used to hearing things yelled at him at the matches. Often insults and usually it was men who did it. So when he heard your voice, it caught his attention a bit more. And what you said actually made sense. He had noticed what you pointed out and was thinking about telling his teammates to try and take advantage of that defensive weakness from the other team. But it was hearing you say it that made him do it before he even told the others. He wanted to impress you.

What he didn’t want was for the entire country to know about the interaction but he should have known better. All eyes were on him at matches and, of course, the cameras had picked up everything that happened.

“El día después”, a football programme that had been created before he was even born was very famous for their section “Lo que el ojo no ve” (What the eye doesn’t see). They usually caught funny moments of the matches and put them together in a video. People loved that. And this time, they found the best clips for it at the Barça match. They filmed all of your interactions with him and subtitled them.

Gavi was rewatching the video in the training ground with some of his teammates, and they all teased him when the guy who was next to you told you that Gavi had been flirting with you and you blushed and hid your face. He hadn’t seen that when it happened and it made him smile knowing you seemed to like him too. But still, no post on social media.

“She’s gorgeous”, said Pedri.

“I know”.

Gavi couldn’t stop smirking and daydreaming about you showing up at the next match.

“What are you all doing?”, asked the other Pablo, Torre, when he got to the dressing room.

“Watching a video of Gavi’s girlfriend”, said Ferrán.

“You have one? I didn’t know”.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Pablo. Don’t listen to them. But come watch the video”.

Gavi played the video again and when the camera showed you, Torre asked him to pause.

“I know her”.

“You do?”, Gavi couldn’t believe that. He might be able to find you after all.

“She’s from Santander, like me. I saw her at all the Racing matches”.

“Do you know her name?”

“No, but….”, he took his phone out and went on Instagram, “I took a lot of photos with her and she tagged me on Instagram when she posted them, so we should be able to find her”.

“I love you, Pablito”, said Gavi, kissing his teammate’s head.

“Save the kisses for her, bro”.

It took longer than they expected but there it was, a post you made on Torre’s final match for Racing. Gavi took a screenshot of it so he could send you a message later. But if you were from Santander…well, that complicated things a bit but it didn’t make anything impossible.

He spent some time looking at your posts and then had to go to training. There was time to keep stalking later. But when he finally got home and went to check your profile, it was private. That was odd.

The last thing you expected after your trip to Barcelona was for a video of you to go viral. When you were sent the youtube clip, you couldn’t believe it. And the comments…they made you want to never check your social media again.

But then you noticed a lot of notifications on your Instagram. How on earth had Gavi’s fans found your profile? It was too much. So you privated your profile and removed all the new followers you got. You were just a normal girl and didn’t want to be involved in any drama.

Your mum found out what had happened and invited you to go out with her to stop overthinking. You turned the wifi and data off and forgot about all of it.

But then you got home and the wifi connected to your phone and one of the notifications caught your eye immediately. Why was Gavi sending you DM’s on Instagram?

[Pablogavi]: Hi! Sorry about all the drama that the video has caused. You ok?

How did he find your Instagram? But it was really nice to see he actually cared.

[You]: Hi! I’m alright, don’t worry. Thanks for asking.

[Pablogavi]: Let me know if you need me to say something on social media or whatever.

[You]: I will, thanks.

[You]: How did you find my Instagram?

[Pablogavi]: Torre recognised you on the video and helped me find you.

[Pablogavi]: Does it sound stalkerish? 😶

[You]: A bit 😂

[You]: But I’m glad you contacted me.

How had your life become so surreal so quickly? All because of a silly comment you couldn’t help but scream.

[Pablogavi]: Feel free to be the one who contacts me if you ever come back to Barcelona.

[You]: I’m moving there soon. For uni.

[Pablogavi]: Best news you could give me 😀

“Who are you talking to?”

Your mum’s voice startled you and made you almost drop the phone. “Nobody”.

“Right. Why were you blushing and smiling then?”

“Just watching some funny videos”.

You didn’t normally keep secrets from your parents but what were they going to think if, after what they saw on that video, you told them Gavi was flirting with you on Instagram?

So you didn’t tell them but kept on speaking with him. And you kept thinking about going to Barcelona before you had to move there…so you could see him. You had seen some comments online about how you had made your account private right before he started to follow you and that worried you. As exciting as talking to a cute football player was, you didn’t want people harassing you because of it. And now it seemed like so many people had already decided you were his girlfriend.

“Will it be ok for me to go to Barcelona this weekend?”, you asked in the middle of dinner three weeks after your previous trip.

“What for?”, asked your dad. “Do you need to do any uni stuff there? I thought you could do it all online”.

“Yes, it’s not uni related. I just wanted to go again and…meet some friends and stuff”.

“You have friends in Barcelona? Since when?”

Your mum was suspicious and for a reason. The way your face got all red while you were lying to them didn’t help.

“Honey, we might not use social media but we aren’t dumb. And when people talk about your daughter, you listen. Is it Gavi that’s invited you to go see him?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think”, you rushed to say.

“We weren’t born yesterday. Of course it is what we think it is. But…you aren’t a kid anymore. We can’t forbid you from going and you’ll move there soon anyway. But please be careful”.

“I always am”.

“We know”, said your mum, holding your hand. “You are smart and we trust you. Do we trust a football player’s intentions?”

“We don’t”, answered your dad.

“Keep trusting me, then”.

“Someone’s happy…and in a hurry”, said Pedri, sitting down next to an already dressed Gavi. “I’ve never seen you get ready so fast”.

“I’ve got plans”, smiled his friend.

“I can guess which type of plans”.

“My Santander girl is coming to Barcelona again”.

“I still think she’s too pretty for you”.

“Don’t be jealous, Pepi. She’s an only child but we might find a pretty cousin for you or something”.

“Is she staying with you?”

“No, she’s staying at a hotel but we have a couple of dates planned. And she might change her mind about where she stays after that”.

“Or she might run back to Santander after talking to you for more than 10 minutes”.

Gavi laughed and left the training centre to go find you. The taxi was waiting for him already.

Once at the train station, he tried not to be recognized but it was always a lost battle. It was while taking some photos with a kid that he saw you.

“Sorry guys, I have to go”.

You were looking around and smiled when you finally saw him.

“Hi”, you said, hugging him. “So good to finally see you in person”.

“Yeah, same. Should I take you to the hotel so you can leave your suitcase? Then we can go grab some food”.

“Sounds good”.

You did just that and soon found yourself walking around Barcelona, on your way to a restaurant that was great, according to Gavi. Well, at least you were learning about where to eat for when you moved there.

The food was great. The rest of the date…it wasn’t his fault. Or yours. But there was no spark. The excitement you had felt while you texted was gone. And he was feeling the same way. Well, that was disappointing.

Gavi had planned on trying to ask you to go to his place after dinner but what was the point? He wouldn’t be surprised if you actually ran away home like Pedri had said.

And when you got to the hotel, you buried your head in the pillow, feeling so stupid about how wrong it all went.

“Someone isn’t looking so happy today”.

“Stop”, said Gavi, putting his hands on his face.

“What happened?”

“The date was a disaster, Pedri. A disaster!”

“What did you do?”

“Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re more likely to mess up”, he shrugged.

“It’s just…there was no connection. And it’s not as if she isn’t an interesting person”.

"Or gorgeous”.

“Yeah, that too. But we just felt so uncomfortable in each other’s company. It was so weird”.

“Are you seeing her today? Maybe things change”.

“Well, I have to see her. She is here because of me, I can’t just leave her alone. But…could you maybe come with us?”

“I don’t want to third wheel”.

“It wouldn’t be that. Just, I don’t know, maybe having someone else there helps”.

Pedri didn’t want to tell his friend but the only reason why he accepted was a very selfish one. He wanted to meet you. Every time Gavi mentioned you or showed the boys a photo of you, he cursed his back luck. Maybe if he hadn’t been injured, it would have been him who talked to you at the match.

You were waiting for your “date” to arrive, checking your phone nervously. Maybe the second date would be better than the first. There was some hope.

But then you saw he wasn’t alone and that confirmed he had a terrible time with you too. You tried to see who it was he was with and then realised it was Pedri. The player you actually had a crush on.

“Hi. Do you mind if Pedri comes with us today?”

“No, not all. Hi!”

You tried not to be too obvious but could tell Gavi was looking at you funny. And when Pedri smiled at you, you just knew you were blushing.

“Nice to finally meet you”.

“Nice to meet you too”.

Soon, it was Gavi that felt like he was third wheeling but he didn’t really mind. It wasn’t as if his friend was trying to steal a girl he had a chance with from him. It was clear you two were not meant for each other, but maybe Pedri could be a bit luckier.

“Sometimes I feel like I just signed for Barça because of the beach. I wouldn’t be able to live in Madrid or somewhere without a beach”.

“Same”, you laughed. “I can’t wait to visit all the beaches here. It’s going to make me feel less homesick”.

“Pedri can show you his favourite one”, said Gavi, making you both look at him. Had you forgotten he was there? Kinda.

“That’d be nice”, you said.

“The one near his house is really pretty. Why don’t you go today? The weather is great”.

Pedri looked at his friend, a bit confused. But when he saw the way he raised his eyebrows, he got it.

You quickly finished your dinner and made your way to Pedri’s house, where he parked his car so you could then walk to the beach.

“Sorry about today”.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Well, Gavi sent you to babysit me and you probably had other plans. It’s just…I guess he could tell it wasn’t working between us or whatever. You didn’t have to look after me. It’s fine”.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do”.

You looked down, biting your lip. And feeling all the butterflies you expected to feel with Gavi but that never showed up.

The silence that accompanied you while you walked on the beach wasn’t a bad one. It was nice.

“I like to sit there and just look around. It sounds a bit boring, I know”.

“We could do that”, you said quickly, not finding the idea boring at all.

“Come, I’ll let you sit on the comfiest stone”.

That made you laugh.

“It’s a shame you and Gavi didn’t work. He was very excited about seeing you”.

“Yeah. I guess it happens”.

“You could still be friends when you move here, though. He’s a good guy, he’ll be happy to help you with whatever you need”.

“Can I ask for your help too?”

“Of course”.

Sitting there with him was making you feel a bit more bold. Having a crush on someone you didn’t know personally could lead to disappointment when you got to spend some time with that person. But with Pedri…it was the complete opposite.

“You know. I had a crush on a Barça player but it wasn’t Gavi”.

Pedri looked at you after that comment, frowning.

“Torre?”

“What? No, why would you…”.

“Well, he’s the one who recognized you. And he mentioned you asked him for photos a lot. I just guessed”.

“Do you want to guess again?”

“Can I get a little hint? Blonde or brunette? Spaniard or from another country?”

“I’ll give you the best hint. No way you don’t guess right after that”.

He turned to look at you when you didn’t continue talking and you leaned to kiss him. You could tell he was surprised at first, but he responded to the kiss quickly.

“Can you guess now?”

“I might need another one of those hints…”.

You laughed, moving to kiss him again. Yeah, he didn’t disappoint.

"Does this count as stealing my friend's girl?"

"I don't think so".

"Good".

Your final day in Barcelona was spent with Pedri and it was perfect. You kept making promises to each other but you weren’t stupid. The summer holidays were coming and you wouldn’t be with him. So you decided to not try and date until you moved to Barcelona in August. Mostly to save yourself the heartbreak if you opened Instagram one day to see him with another girl while on holiday.

Your parents didn’t buy that nothing had happened with Gavi when they saw the way you looked when you got back home. And after some pestering, you told them what really happened.

The holidays were pretty uneventful for you. And by the time they were almost over, you just spent your days packing your things and getting ready for the big move.

[Pedri ❤️]: will you be in Santander next week?

What an odd message. You had been texting non-stop but you didn’t expect that question now.

[You]: yes, why?

[Pedri ❤️]: I’m coming to see you 😉

He what?

[You]: you don’t have to. We’ll see each other in Barcelona soon.

[Pedri ❤️]: I want to see you. Is that ok?

[You]: of course. I just didn’t expect you to come to see me here.

[Pedri ❤️]: I’ve been dying to see you since the day you left.

And you had been dying to see him since that very same day too. So you planned his little trip, still not believing this was happening.

“Hey!”, you waved at him at the airport, feeling overwhelmed by his presence.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, mi amor”, he said, hugging you and not caring about the looks you were getting from people. “Missed me?”

“Maybe a little”.

“Liar”.

More people started to look at you, recognising Pedri. So you took him to your car to drive him to his hotel.

"My parents want to meet you", you blurted out, afraid of scaring him.

"Ok".

"You're ok with it? I mean, we aren't even dating officially but…you know, they just want to take the opportunity of having you here to talk".

"Yes, it makes sense. And you keep saying we are not dating but that's not how I see it".

You looked at him quickly before looking at the road again. "How do you see it?"

"To me, we started dating the day we met. We are just waiting until we live in the same city to see each other often and I guess do more couple stuff".

"So should I introduce you to my parents as my boyfriend?"

"It'll probably be nicer for them to hear that than calling me the guy you hooked up with once because you actually didn't like my friend".

The laugh that came out of you scared you and you gripped the steering wheel tighter while trying not to laugh more.

But on that first day, you didn't see your parents. You spent the whole day with your boyfriend and if that was an indication of how life was going to be in Barcelona, you couldn't move there fast enough.

Pedri charmed your parents too when he met them and you could tell they were a bit less worried about letting their daughter hang out with a football player.

"I'll see you in…10 days", you told Pedri when you took him to the airport. He started preseason the next day.

"10 loooong days. I might not survive".

"You'll be fine", you hugged him tightly, not ready to let go. "I'm the one who will struggle".

"We facetime every day, ok? I need to see your pretty face".

You nodded, kissing him before walking to the security area with him.

"See you soon".

Your dad was helping you take the last box from the car to your room when you heard screaming in the hallway. Was this going to be a daily occurrence?

"It's Pedri! And Gavi!"

"Oh no…".

You got out of the room and saw your boyfriend walking towards your room. He had promised to help with the moving but ended up having to stay longer for training. But there he was, and Gavi was there too, making every girl in the building go insane.

"What are you doing here?"

Your dad told them to get inside the room and closed the door, so people wouldn't see you.

"No kiss?", he asked and then looked at your dad. "Sorry?"

But your dad just shook his head and Pedri gave you a quick kiss and hugged you.

"Did you bring Gavi here to see if I had changed my mind about who I liked?"

"So funny".

"I was brought here for my muscles", said Gavi, flexing said muscles.

"You are here because I have to drive you around and I didn't want to waste more time going all the way to your house".

"I can help anyway".

When everything was in place, you decided to leave. Your dad wanted to take you to dinner before leaving. And now both Pedri and Gavi were invited to that dinner.

On the way out, you tried to keep your distance from your boyfriend, not wanting to create rumours on your first day there. But the problem was that it was Gavi who walked by your side and that didn't create a rumour. It only made the one that already existed bigger.

Some of the girls took photos of you two walking together and laughing and posted them on Instagram.

"Ok then. You can't visit me if this is what's going to happen".

"You ok?"

You nodded, not feeling sure about being ok. You were dating one person while everyone seemed to think you were dating his best friend. It was…weird.

And it wasn't the last time something like that happened. You started to go to every Barça match at home, wearing your Barça shirt but not showing the back. So, of course, everyone assumed you were wearing Gavi's.

It got to the point where you didn't want to post about the matches. Your account was private but someone was clearly posting your photos with other accounts and you didn't know who it could be. So no posting was the solution. Every time you posted with Pedri, it was stories for your close friends. And those were never leaked, thankfully.

"What happened?", you asked one of the girls that lived with you when you got there and saw all the people on your floor.

"A pipe burst and we have no water. And the water messed something up and half of us have no electricity".

"Huh…we can't stay here, then".

"Where are we supposed to go?", she asked. "Not all of us can go to our rich boyfriend's mansion like you will".

"Whatever", you rolled your eyes and went to your room to pick up some clothes and your books.

"Say hi to Gavi from me!"

You were still shaking your head when you closed your door.

"Hi! You're on speaker. I'm driving to the stadium".

"Sorry. I've got no water or electricity at my place. Can I stay with you until it's back?"

"Of course", said Pedri, not doubting his answer for a second, which made you smile. "And for the record, it wasn't me who did whatever it's that happened just so you stay with me".

"Don't believe him".

"Hi, Pablito! And don't worry, I don't believe him. I'll see you after the match, ok?"

"Looking forward to it".

"Good luck boys!"

After the match, you waited for the boys near Pedri's car. They didn't take long to get there and you hugged both of them to congratulate them for the win. But your boyfriend got a longer hug.

"Sit behind him", said Pedri when you walked to sit behind the driver's seat, his seat.

"Why?"

"So I can see you while I drive".

"Oh my God", Gavi was rolling his eyes and Pedri glared at him.

But you did as he said and he started to drive. You could also see him better like this so you weren't going to complain.

When you were getting out of the stadium, you saw all the fans waiting. You put your hood on and tried to hide from all of them but they were surrounding the car.

Looking up from your phone for two seconds, you saw all the people trying to get a good look at you.

"It's her", you heard them say, "the girl Gavi is dating".

"See? I told you they were together".

You saw Pedri's jaw clenching and Gavi told him to drive so they wouldn't make you uncomfortable. He turned to see if you were ok and dozens of phones were out to film the interaction.

"Oh my God, he's so sweet looking after her", was the last thing you heard before Pedri drove past all the fans.

"Sorry about that", said Gavi.

"It's ok".

But you knew it wasn't ok. Because your boyfriend didn't say a word the whole drive to Gavi's and barely acknowledged him when he said goodbye.

You quickly moved to the passenger's seat and tried to get his attention but he wasn't in the mood.

"Are you ok?", you asked him when you got home.

"No, I'm really tired. Tired of everyone thinking my girlfriend is dating my friend".

"Who cares what they think? It's just because of that video. But you know the truth. We know the truth".

"What truth?", he said, raiding his voice. You had never heard him speak like that.

"What do you mean?"

"The truth about how you two spent weeks flirting and then you came here to be with him?"

"Are you for real?", you couldn't believe him. "You know how that ended. Why are you bringing that up now? I'm here with you, am l not?"

"Maybe you should just go with him. Everyone seems to think that".

"I don't think that".

But no matter what you said, he wouldn't look at you. It was breaking your heart. So you left…and there was only one place you could go to.

#pablo gavi #gavi #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi angst #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri fluff #pedri angst #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer angst

192 notes · View notes

fandomsnstuff · 7 months

Text

this just started as me wanting to complain about the work it takes to prep a house to sell but now it's kind of an au

@taznovembercelebration

Day 15: vampire au/last

Kravitz is moving for possibly the last time in his very, very long life, and he ruminates a little on what got him to this point.

Read it on AO3

Barry drops another cardboard box into the growing sea of stuff in the garage. “One thing I wish I'd considered before becoming immortal was all the moving.”

“Tell me about it,” Taako says, writing his name on a piece of painter's tape and slapping it on a garbage bag of clothes. “One second I'm joining my hot ancient vampire boyfriend in his immortal curse, and next thing I know, I've moved fifteen times in the last hundred years.”

“We haven't moved fifteen times,” Kravitz skirts around him with another box. “This is only number ten.”

“That's still too many.”

He drops the box on top of Barry's. “It wasn't nearly this much work when it was just me in apartments and such. But four times the people, four times the stuff.”

Taako points at him, “this is the last time. New vamps, new start, new system. Taako can't be doing all this physical labour every couple of years for eternity.”

Barry leans against a stack of boxes. “Maybe this is why you deemed immortality a curse. You've been spending your eternal life doing one of the worst chores an adult can do.” Kravitz just shrugs. Barry says, “this'll be good. The land's nice and far from any prying eyes, and the house Magnus and Julia designed is beautiful.”

“No! More! Moves!” Taako chants.

“Okay,” Lup comes into the garage, “Magnus is on his way with the truck and reinforcements, so he'll start taking loads of stuff to the new house. Stager comes tomorrow, carpets get cleaned Wednesday, pictures Thursday, and we're in business by the weekend.”

“Let's sell this bitch,” Taako says.

A few months later, the old house has sold, and they're settling into their new, custom-built home. Kravitz is sitting out back, watching Lup and Taako argue about toppings by the pizza oven. His heart swells.

He'd been alone for so long. As far as he knew, he was the only vampire left. His life became an exhausting, monotonous dance of isolation. Running from place to place the moment he felt any whiff of suspicion in his direction. But then he met Taako. Handsome, wondrous, stubborn Taako.

Kravitz had wanted to run the moment he realised Taako had taken an interest. But when he started packing his things and looking for a new place, for the first time in centuries, he hesitated. Taako was the first interesting thing to happen to him in ages. Maybe he deserved to have a little fun.

“A little fun” quickly turned into deep, unavoidable love. So Kravitz tried to blow it up. He told Taako they couldn't be together, he walked away and blocked his number and ran. But Taako isn't so easily swayed. Through avenues that Kravitz is still in the dark about, he tracked him down and banged on his door until he was granted entry and an explanation. So Kravitz told him what he was. He told him they couldn't be together because Taako would age and Kravitz wouldn't and after a few decades he would be alone again. He didn't want to know a life of companionship if he was going to lose it in the blink of an eye.

And Taako laughed. He laughed until he had tears trickling down his face. He said, “you thought I didn't know? Babe, the moment you brought me home I knew. I don't give a fuck, all my friends are freaks.”

Kravitz met Taako's friends, and they all seemed normal to him. “Magnus?”

“Werewolf. And Julia.”

“Davenport?”

“Shapeshifter.”

“Merle?”

“Fae.”

“Lucretia?”

“Merfolk.”

Kravitz hesitates, because there's no way he's anything but human, but he has to ask, “Barry?”

“I'll give you three guesses.”

“...no.” Taako smirked. Kravitz stared at him wide-eyed. “There's absolutely no way.”

“Full blooded vampire.”

“Full blooded?!”

“The man has never had a drop of human blood in his veins.”

Kravitz pushed his hands into his hair. “I thought I was the only one left.”

Taako patted his back, “you just didn't know where to look.”

He looked at Taako. “Are you…?”

“I'm the only full human in the group.”

“What about Lup?”

“We still don't really know what she did, but she kind of Danny Phantom-ed herself and has been able to willingly shift to a phantasmal form for a few years now, so,” he shrugs, “she's human, but also maybe half dead? I try not to think about it too much.”

That conversation, as… mind blowing as it was, was the start of the rest of Kravitz's life. Taako made some very compelling arguments and convinced him to come back and try again. It was just under a year after that when he turned Taako. He was hesitant to do it, but was convinced when Taako reminded him that all his friends were immortal, and if he wasn't going to do it, he'd go to Barry, “and I'm not into him like that, so I'd rather not.”

On the back porch, watching the twins, Kravitz finally understands the concept of a forever home. Why spend eternity running when you could travel and have fun and do much more pleasant things than packing? And why not give yourself a soft place to land when you need to rest?

Barry comes outside and sits next to him, holding out a drink. “They're still at it?”

Kravitz takes it. “Yeah. Though they've moved from olives to anchovies.”

Barry chuckles and shakes his head. “I think they'll still be arguing about it when the next ice age comes around.”

Kravitz laughs, and they sit in a comfortable silence for a while. “Hey Barry. You've been around a while.”

“Sure have.”

“So you've been navigating life as an immortal for a long time. Like, almost as long as I have.”

“You've got maybe two hundred years on me, but yeah.”

“Then why the fuck did you let me move the four of us through ten houses in the last hundred years?!”

Barry laughs long and loud. He sighs. “Oh, my god,” he wipes a stray tear away, “I was wondering if you'd put that together.”

“Well?!”

“Oh, man,” he clears his throat. “You'd been on your own for so long, and set in your ways, and so afraid of being discovered, we thought it'd be best to do things your way for a while. To let you get used to us and the group and what have you.”

Kravitz narrows his eyes. Barry bites his lip like he's trying not to laugh again. “There's more. Spill it, Bluejeans.”

“Lup and I made a bet on how many moves Taako could go through before it got to him.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I won, for once.”

Kravitz considers this. “What'd you win?”

He smirks. “You don't want to know.”

“Ugh!” Kravitz stands. “Gross, I don't want to know about your sex bets.”

“I didn't say anything about sex!”

“A non answer is still an answer,” he turns to go back inside, “next time just lie and say money!”

Barry shouts after him, “this is your life forever now!”

#taakitz #blupjeans #taz #taz fic #barry bluejeans #taako #lup #taz Kravitz #kravit adventurezone #lup taaco #taz lup #blupjeans fic

55 notes · View notes

dameronology · 1 year

Text

timing's a bitch [5/5] - s.h

summer '87

“oh my love, i lied to you, but i never needed to" - liar, paramore (x)

“if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing…timing. but timing is a bitch” - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

a/n: i am sooooo sorry for how long this took. i have a long list of excuses but i shall not bore you. we have, however, finally made it to the end and i owe you all the biggest fucking thank you in the world for all your support on this series. i love u all and i hope this is the ending u wanted <3

Twelve months was the longest period of time you’d gone without seeing Steve Harrington.

You’d seen him basically every day for your entire goddamn life and then he’d just…disappeared. Left the arcade in a cloud of shame and then you hadn’t seen him since. He was fine; you knew that much. A quick call to his parents had let you know that he was with them in Florida. Fuck knows why, because as far as you’d known he had hated his parents almost as much as he hated Florida. But, as it had turned out, knowing didn’t account for much. You thought you knew Harrington’s every move, but everything in the last year had completely blindsided you. Even if it was just an anomaly, it was enough to make you question everything. It had hurt more than you cared to admit – the sudden revelation, the disappearance, the lack of contact – but the realisation that he’d admitted to loving you had carried you for just a little while.

Only a little while. Three months at the most. After that, you lost hope and moved on.

Did it feel like part of you was missing? Completely. Was there anything you could do about it? Absolutely not.

Steve’s name became something of a curse word amongst your friendship circle. Friendship triangle, actually. The combination of Eddie and Robin had been the only thing carrying you through. Hawkins had changed as you knew it, because as it turns out, you and Steve had shared a pair of rose-coloured lenses. The town sucked without them and man you hoped Florida was even worse for him. Maybe one of the crocodiles or swamps would swallow him up. At least that way you could get closure.

It was hard not to think about him; to think about whether or not he’d started dating again, about how much he was probably suffocating under the same roof as his parents. The part of you that had been hurt by him wanted so badly for him to be aching too – for you, for the familiar, for the realisation that Tampa Bay might have been great, but no place was truly great without you – but the rest of you just pined. For him, for his dumb sarcasm and ridiculous ability to be so smart about everything, for his shitty driving and that stupid cologne and the cursed BMW that you were afraid to shine a UV light in for fear of a live Jackson Pollock experience.

You missed him.

Eddie and Robin were good company. Every time you were sad, you would find yourself with them at the Hideout, laughing about something stupid and then revelling in the realisation that you were going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. You had your friends.

“So…I like her, but I don’t like like her, you know?” Eddie’s aimless ramblings filled your ears one cold Wednesday night. Class had been long, but not as long as this conversation. Was he even going the right way home? You’d no clue.

“So, break up with her then, Eds,” you replied, unable to resist an eyeroll. “It’s obvious.”

“But she’s so hot!”

“And?!” you shot back. “You can’t just hold out for someone because they’re hot.”

“Right. If you did, you’d be in a Florida swamp by now.”

You shot Eddie a glare. “Watch it.”

“I regretted it as soon as I said it,” he grimaced. “Sorry. I really am.”

Eddie reached across and squeezed your arm, giving you a smile. He was far too easy to forgive.

As it turned out, he had been going the right way, because your apartment building had finally made an appearance in the distance. One of the better developments in your life in the past year had been that you, Robin and Eddie found a place together. It was a complete shithole, and you were pretty sure your neighbour was a pervert, but it was yours. More yours than your place in New York had been.

Hopping out the van, you shut the door behind you and fumbled around for your keys. Eddie wasn’t far behind, just taking a moment to assess the damage the pavement had done to his wheel when he’d collided it with at the morning. Something about the government shouldn’t have put a pavement there and I don’t pay taxes for this shithole to destroy my van.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and was immediately greeted by Robin. She was in attack mode, elbowing her way past you and towards Eddie.

“Munson!” she yelled. “How many times have I told you not to smoke week inside? I’m trying to study for my finals but all I can smell is your skanky goddamn stoner broccoli- “

“- woah, woah, woah!” Eddie held his hands up in defence. “Before you rip my head off, don’t you want to have that conversation with our beloved roommate first?”

You glanced at them, thinning your eyes. “The hell are you talking about?”

“Uh…” Robin trailed off. “We should go inside for this.”

“Or you could just tell me here?” you suggested.

Despite your advice, your friends both took an arm each and lead you inside to the sofa, where they laid you down. Robin did have a point about the smell in here.

“You should sit down for this,” Eddie began.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m lying down?”

“Oh…” he trailed off. “Then you might want to sit up for this.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and swung your legs round so they were on the floor. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Robin gulped. “Steve called.”

“Here?” your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah. Six times, actually,” she continued.

“What?!” you exclaimed. “When?”

Eddie and Robin glanced at each other.

“Guys,” you pushed. “When?”

“Three months ago. And also, nine months ago, and also ten months ago, and he also tried calling my house the week he left and…” Eddie trailed off. “Why do you look so angry?”

“Why the fuck are you only telling me this now?!”

“We thought it was best you didn’t know!” Robin chimed in. “He just made you so miserable and-

“- that’s not your decision to make!” you snapped.

“No, you’re right…. we know that. Now. We know that now,” Eddie said. “We just thought it was worth telling you because rumour has it, he’s back in town.”

“Rumour has it from who?”

“My eyes,” Robin admitted. “I saw him yesterday at the coffee shop down the road. I think he was looking for you.”

It wasn’t in your nature to dramatically storm off. It was even less in your nature to steal Eddie Munson’s keys and aimlessly speed off into the night, but you probably earnt the right to do after learning that your best friends had been lying to you. Betrayal from Steve had sucked, but even more so from them. What sucked even more was the realisation that he hadn’t been ignoring you for a year. That was a lot to deal with.

You found yourself driving to Lover’s Lake. It had been an unconscious decision – less conscious that the one to fuck up Eddie’s tyres even more on the way over – but it was weirdly peaceful once you got there. Freaky alien portals aside, it was a pretty relaxing place when it was empty at night. The water was completely dark, lit up only by the moon and stars, where you could be alone with your thoughts and-

“I have a gun!”

The words from your mouth had been quick – and a lie – when you heard someone step on a twig behind you. It wasn’t the worse lie in the world. You could have had a gun in your pockets. Maybe. How big were guns anyway? You didn’t know.

“If you come a step closer I will fucking END you-“

“- you don’t carry a gun.”

There was only one person in the world who could be truly certain of that decision. Steve fucking Harrington.

A beat passed and before he could say anything else, you’d thrown yourself at him. You both fell to the ground – Steve breaking your fall with his body and letting out an ow – and for a split second, you weren’t sure you were decking him or fighting him. The decision came to you naturally, it turned out, because when he tried to sit up, you tackled him back into the ground with a hug. Steve sat there aimlessly for a second, but quickly wrapped his gangly arms back around you.

“Fuck,” you murmured. “What the fuck, Steve?!”

“Couldn’t I be asking you the same thing?!” he demanded. “You’ve been ignoring my calls for a year!”

You took a step back from the hug, glowering for a moment. “I haven’t. I promise.”

“Well you haven’t been answering them-“

“- it was Eddie and Robin!” you cut him off. “We moved in together…it’s too fucking long to explain, but they are meddlers. They are meddling meddlers. I’ve spent the last year waiting for you to call Steve and for fuck’s sake, man! It’s me. If you are genuinely stupid enough to think that I would willingly ignore your calls then you don’t know me at all!”

Steve was silent for a second. That was a lot of information to process. It was good information – encouraging, indeed - but it also meant he had to change his entire worldview that he’d spent the last year adjusting to. Not unlike you had in the last hour.

“Besides…” you carried on. Yeah, it was all coming out now. “You’re the one who accidentally confessed your love for me. You’re the one who ran away! So even if I had been ignoring your calls, who’s to say it wasn’t justified?”

“No, yeah…you’re right,” Steve murmured. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know that doesn’t cut it at all. It doesn’t even begin to make it right but if you would just give me the chance, I promise I will make it up to you.”

“A chance?” you raised your eyebrows. “What kind of chance?”

“The same kind of chance I asked for the night you left for college almost two years ago,” he said. “The chance that’s been fucked over and over because of bad timing-”

“- have you ever considered that maybe you were the one who was about twelve hours behind everyone else?”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you were twelve hours ahead?”

You smiled. “Get to the point, Steve.”

“I love you,” Steve declared. He flung his arms out at as he did, almost as though he were announcing it to the dark clouds above you. “I’m sorry for running away, but in doing it, I realised there’s only one place I want to run and that’s to wherever you are. Even if it’s almost midnight, by a lake, on a freezing cold night.”

“How did you even know I was here?” you asked.

“You have three places you go when you’re not home and that’s here, my house or the record shop and – look, I don’t want to rush you, but it would be really wonderful if we could circle back to where you stand vis-à-vis that love declaration-”

“- fucking obviously I love you too,” you cut him off.

Steve smiled. There was no doubt in his mind that you were still seething but finally, after two years of swings-and-roundabouts, you’d finally said the same thing at the same time. It had been a two year long head-ache – one you still felt dizzy from – but hey. You’d finally caught each other at the same moment. And god forbid you’d ever let him go.

“But this has to be it now, Steve,” you poked him in the chest. “No one-night stands, no other people, no bullshit. I can’t take bullshit.”

“This is it,” he said affirmatively. “I promise. I’m not ever letting you out of my sight again.”

“You promise?”

Steve grabbed your hand, pulling your pinky out of your balled up fist and wrapping it around his. “You have my word.”

Finally, he kissed you.

You’d kissed multiple times before; that fateful night two years ago, the even more fateful one in New York, and the time it almost happened in the lake just two miles from where you were stood. All of those things had taken you a step closer to this but the moment in itself felt like a weight off your shoulders. Almost like it was something that had been written in the stars since the first day you’d thrown a Lego brick at him, and both of you had been holding your breath waiting for you to happen ever since.

“I’m gonna kill Robin and Eddie, by the way,” you quietly said.

“Don’t,” Steve murmured against you. “I only just got you back. I can’t have you going to prison.”

"Yeah, fair point," you laughed. "Besides, if I can forgive you, I can forgive them."

"Hey!"

"Sorry..." you trailed off. "I love you."

Steve smiled. "I love you too."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson

155 notes · View notes

neutron-stars-collision · 7 months

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 3 - Canning Town Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 2 Summary: Flirting, Leicester Square station mixtape, flowers and breakdowns in the cantina. Or another chapter of an unlikely liaison. Warnings: Swearing, E-rated language and imagery and more outrageous flirting. Author's Notes: Chapter a month might just be the new deal here, apologies. And this one's long, by which I mean over 11k 💁🏻‍♀️ It also seems like now that I've started, I can't stay away from Neil's POV so... yeah. Look out for a cheeky cameo too 😉 Other than that, I can assure you this is just as chaotic and ridiculous as the last chapter. These two are in full control, I'm just a mere scribe, doing my best. Hopefully it works. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Incorporating Neil into your daily (and weekly) life was easy. Almost terrifyingly so if you did as much as stop and think about it. Perhaps the self-preservation rooted deep within forbade you to reflect on it. Which, in hindsight, was a good thing.

After that first victory of obtaining Neil’s number, you did not hold back from texting and bombarding him with daily nonsensical memes that could have driven a different man to madness. Neil, however, took it in his stride. It was rare not to get a reply from him after longer than an hour. And that boosted your courage like nothing else.

Some days, the conversations went like this:

/ 🏹, 12:07 pm/ Show me what socks are you wearing.

/✝️, 12:13 pm/ Jesus, that’s forward.

/ 🏹, 12:14 pm/ That’s basically my second name. So?

/ 🏹, 12:14 pm/ I swear I won’t sell the pic on OF.

/✝️, 12:20 pm/ Well, if you do, then at least share the earnings with me.

Although you started the ridiculous conversation, when the next text came, consisting of a single image of a socked ankle bared by the familiar hand pulling up the pant leg, you nearly dropped the coffee cup in the middle of the Covent Garden. It was just an ordinary Tuesday lunchtime, with the square bustling with sound and movement. Using the rare sunny September day, you escaped the confines of the Royal Opera House to have your coffee break on the kerb. Thanks to the dwindling sense of coherence, you did not drop said coffee when you opened the photo. The socks you had asked for were black with a grey argyle pattern. But that was where the normalcy ended, for the rhombuses were filled with corgi heads. The brown-beige dogs stared at you through the screen with their beady eyes and were the reason for your hysterical laughter.

The overprotective mother tending to her children close by shot you a dirty look. Well, fuck her.

/ 🏹, 12:23 pm/ Neil, you’re too cute. Way too cute.

/✝️, 12:32 pm/ It’s what every guy wants to hear. Thanks, Cupid.

/ 🏹, 12:34 pm/ I never said you’re not hot, though. Which you very much are. So much that I thought of you when…

/✝️, 12:35 pm/ Yeah, don’t finish that sentence. Please.

/✝️, 12:35 pm/ I’d rather maintain my innocence.

/ 🏹, 12:36 pm/ As you wish 😘

That was not a lie. It was a result of yet another tiring day and an early night in bed when it was too early to sleep. So, you chose to fill the time like most women would, letting your thoughts drift to images and scenarios that always did the trick as your hand delved between your thighs. When you realised who you had been thinking of, the tension was so close to bursting that you did not try to shift the attention. When you came, the guilt was nowhere to be found.

After all, it was not a sin to think of pretty boys when taking the edge off. As soon as you realised that Neil did not take the flirty line seriously, that feeling of potentially having done something wrong became non-existent. It was fine. It was all fine.

Other times, especially during those Wednesday mornings on the Tube, your conversations looked more like this:

“I’ve got an invasive question…” changing the subject during your weekly chats was easy, for as soon as you set a weighty gaze on Neil, he sobered up too.

The endless questions did not seem to bother him either. Your boundless curiosity was particularly grateful for that.

“As long as you’re not going to ask me what underwear I’m wearing, I think we’re fine,” the poker face was only disturbed by Neil’s twitching lips, and the sparks danced in his eyes as he inclined his head in your direction, blessing you with the golden strands, “Shoot,”

Every time, you took a deep breath, silently gathering the courage to ask, and then let the question fall from your lips without a pause:

“When was the last time you’ve been in love?” the curiosity was all it was.

Yet still, Neil’s widening eyes made you consider that perhaps something else was underlining that desire to know. And that this question was different than others you had asked. Different from “Dogs or cats?” “Typical coffee order?” and “Any hidden talents?”. But it was too late to take it back.

“Oof, you weren’t joking” Neil seemed to shake it off quickly, only briefly offering you a glare before looking down to find the needed words, “Probably two-ish years ago…?” you were sure you had imagined the broken edge in his voice as Neil swallowed hard and continued “It was a disaster. She didn’t- Let’s just say I went in too hard and too fast, and she got scared. Pretty much ghosted me after a half-assed excuse” when he raised his head and meet your gaze, you could see the depths of hurt in his eyes.

Your heart felt pathetically hollow, but you smothered the feeling to nothing but an uncomfortable sting.

“Ouch,” a wince was easy enough to muster, and you followed it with an apology, “Sorry,” Neil’s crestfallen look was an inspiration for you to place your hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring squeeze “I know that it doesn’t help, but it’s her, not you” you knew the light statement was the right way to go when Neil cracked a wry smile and gave your other wrist a tap.

“Thanks,” it was evident enough to realise that Neil was eager to drop the subject. It was clearer still that you were going to be the next target, “I won’t ask you the same since I know better, but… Do you really think no one could change your view on love?” yet when the question fell in the space between you, it was not what you had expected.

The surprise must have painted on your face, for Neil looked a second away from taking it back. You stopped him from doing that the only way you could think of – by extending your hand in what was universally thought of as a ‘hold up’ motion. It was not that you did not want to answer. And it was not the first time someone had asked either.

But it was not something you were keen on inspecting and tearing apart to offer an honest answer. It was a fact, pure and simple. A fact that you would believe in till the day you died. There was no place for love in your life, and there would never be. Full stop.

“Yeah, I do,” you met Neil’s waiting gaze and offered him a weak shrug. The strange disappointment in his gaze made no sense, so you chose to ignore it to shift your attention to the world outside the carriage as it arrived at the next station. The belief in your next words was as tangible as anything else you could conceive, “It would take a miracle”.

He did not ask that question again.

Those Wednesday morning conversations also became a source of information, which you had stowed securely in the compartment of your brain labelled ‘Neil’. After almost two months of acquittance, you knew that he was born and raised a Londoner (from Richmond, the posh fuck [affectionate]), was decidedly a dog person and had a chocolate Labrador growing up (a girl named Daisy), listened to alt-rock and 80s music and was what he described as a hopeless romantic. You still did not know what he did for work, only that he was decidedly not a tattooist, literary agent, paramedic, jockey, art critic, dressmaker, choreographer, or bus driver. Whether he was truly not just a priest undercover was still up for debate.

***

Only when you fled the confines of the ordinary tiny London flat kitchen and felt the night breeze of the city on your skin, left bare from the jacket you did not yet put on, had the question of the ages pop into your head. What the fuck? There was no answer. You shook your head against the memories of what had just conspired and stopped on the pavement to put on and fasten the jacket. Even annoyed, you could still feel the biting cold begin to settle in your bones.

You never expected to bump into Liam. Never in a million years would you have considered that those two friends you shared would extend the invitation to that man out of all people. And you certainly did not expect him to come.

Although, as he had unhelpfully explained himself, he only showed up because of the chance you would be there. The audacity made you shake your head vehemently, without a doubt attracting a glare or two from those who remained sober at this hour. In Soho on Saturday night, that was unlikely.

You walked through the cobbled streets with the neon lights lighting your path without an aim or a map. The only objective was to stomp the frustration into the cracked pavement and end up home. Somehow. Specifics were to be determined later.

Sure, rushing out of your mate’s flat like a lightning bolt could be seen as impulsive. But Liam offered you no choice. The pleasant buzz of alcohol did nothing to stop the embarrassment, which grew worse by the minute. The long walk in an unknown direction was a sad but acceptable consequence. Or so you aimed to maintain.

By the time you had seriously begun to consider using the dwindling phone battery to order an Uber and save you from the penance of someone else’s transgressions, the red circle with a navy blue bar appeared on the horizon. Salvation, at last. You picked up the pace, eager to get out of the cold and that one step closer to home. This close to Leicester Square and the theatres just having closed their doors on the last patrons, the bustle seemed quieter somehow, more subdued. It was a blessing for your budding headache and a threat to the thoughts eager to appear with nothing suppressing them.

You crossed the road and descended the staircase with a sigh. The heat of the station enveloped you like a hug as you passed the ticketing gates and spent an unnecessarily long time staring at the Tube map. When the logic kicked in, at last, you rushed over to the correct platform.

Only to regret it as soon as the timing screen came into view. Heathrow Airport 25 mins. The polite PSA text below informed you the line was experiencing delays. No biggie. They were sorry. The usual shit. A curse litany lodged in your throat as your eyes roamed over the platform.

All the noise in your head faded to nothing when your gaze settled on that familiar blonde head of hair. He was sitting in one of the few chairs with his head bowed over his knees in a position so exemplary for a Saturday night in the glorious London town. You skimmed over his body, taking note of the casual jeans and a t-shirt, peeking from beneath the unbuttoned jacket.

Before you knew it, your legs had started carrying you in his direction, a goofy smile present on your face. The improbability of it happening made everything easier. Because what were the odds?

Instead of counting them, you approached Neil, still so blissfully unaware of your presence and delivered an opening line:

“Hello, Father,” the joke did not yet get old, and you still got the kick out of it.

Especially when Neil raised his head fast enough to give himself a whiplash and gasped from shock.

“Jesus- Oh, what the fuck?” clutching at his heaving chest with all the drama he could muster, Neil offered you a look so full of surprise you knew he did not expect this to happen either.

The only weekend plans you had discussed over texts were that you had a party to go to, and he was likely to go out with his workmates at some point. But that was it. Zero specifics, no need to share them because there was no need for either of you to know the details. And yet.

“Is that how you should greet a lady?” playing on his theatrical reaction, you feign a shocked expression.

It was clear you would fail at any attempts of annoyance. Your cheeks were already aching with that kind of wide, manic grin only Neil seemed to cause. You could see his eyes skim over your figure, taking in your clothes with that sort of precision only he seemed capable of. Finally, satisfied with what he saw, Neil raised his head to meet your gaze again and got up to bow lowly at your feet:

“Apologies, m’lady,” before you knew what he was doing, he took hold of your hand and kissed your knuckles. A move so fast you almost thought you had imagined it if not for the fading sensation of his lips still ghosting your skin, “What are you doing here?” with his hand lightly touching your elbow, Neil steered you towards the seats.

Only now, with the surprises fading into the background, you took note of the empty platform. It was just the two of you sitting on the creaky plastic chairs. You shifted an inch closer to Neil, seeking the warmth radiating off his body and replied:

“As I’ve mentioned, I had an invitation to this flat party in Soho… And I went, but then, and you’ll never believe that happened-” recounting the improbable story felt good, and you took pleasure in the attention Neil gave your every word.

“Let me guess… Liam showed up?” his interjection followed your dramatic pause flawlessly.

Of course, he got it. Of course, he guessed. You shook your head at his eager smile, aware of the glee in your eyes:

“Damn, you’re good” your low approving whistle reverberated in the space. Most shockingly, there was a certain level of joy in sharing the story, even as your skin crawled with the embarrassment of what transpired, “Yeah, and it turns out that getting blocked did not make him smarter. It became a whole thing, along with him getting down on his knees in the middle of a kitchen and proclaiming his undying love to me,” you wondered if Liam was still there, kneeling on the tiled floor and waiting for your return.

Partially, you hoped that was the case.

Throwing you out of the strange ruminations, Neil shook his head and offered you a serious look:

“Blimey,” his tsk almost got lost in the PA announcement, crackling from the speakers. When it ended, Neil met your gaze with a sympathetic smile, “No wonder you ran away,” his knee nudged yours, triggering something you would not understand even in months.

Sitting upright, you nodded fervently:

“I had to” the emotions you did not know were present poured out from your lips as the next words fell in the space between you, “And like- He doesn’t even know me? He never saw me on the stage, and he thinks that making me cum a couple of times is enough?” a frustrated growl tore from your chest as you finished the tirade with a tired sigh and simple punchline, “Bullshit,”

There was no time or willingness to take apart where all that anger came from or why it was suddenly so important Neil understood your reasons. It just was. Later it was easily blamed on the alcohol still present in your veins. For now, you met his gaze and shrugged, answering the questions he seemed too shy to ask.

“With that, I must agree. It’s bullshit” nudging you with his shoulder, Neil smiled, brightening the clouds that still seemed to hang over your mind.

You shot him a brilliant grin, brushing away the concerns with terrifying ease. They had to wait, ideally forever.

“Thanks, babe” sugar coated your smile as you allowed yourself to gaze, taking note of the blush spreading on his cheeks. Although you would never admit it out loud, the blue of his eyes was slowly becoming your favourite shade of the colour. It was that thought that triggered your next confession, “Admittedly, meeting you here is a highlight of the night,” you watched as his eyes grew wider, evidently not expecting to hear something that honest. The moment stretched for what felt like ages until you found the strength to look away, focusing on the timing screen and the issues it posed, “Though, those delays are bullshit, too” your eye-roll elicited an instant laugh, which only added warmth to the kindling sparks in your chest.

“Mhmm,” Neil’s hum acted like an anchor, tying you to reality.

It was a better place to get lost in than the chaos raging in your head. You chose to stick by it, following the easy way out with a simple question:

“How come you’re here?” you turned towards Neil, hoping to block the platform and the world beyond from view.

Even if just figuratively and for a short while. If the answering bright smile was anything to go by, Neil was happy to humour you:

“I’ve been out for drinks at a pub, but then our crowd isn’t very… boisterous, so we all went our separate ways, and here I am,” he signed off the summary with an explanatory shrug, but you should have kept your guard up. Once his gaze settled on you with an intensity of intent, a pathetic instinct kickstarted your heart with all the subtlety of trainwreck, “Bored as fuck until you’ve shown up” the joy in that simple sentiment was enough to make your cheeks heat up.

Of its own volition, your brain provided the fresh memory of how Liam’s attention in that cursed kitchen had made you feel. How running away was the only option you saw then. It was different now; the quiet focus of the man sitting next to you was a welcomed change. A company you were happy to keep. For however long you were allowed.

“How long do you think till it’s-” ignoring the shyness that did not seem happy to be buried in Neil’s company, you changed the subject with all the grace of an elephant.

It was evident in how you stuttered, quickly abandoning the idea of finishing the sentence and letting it trail off into the quiet. It was too early to raise your head from the depths of shame it was drowning in. It was all a little too much.

“Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour… or never,” Neil’s voice gained a cheeky edge as if conscious of your minor crisis and happy to offer a distraction.

You risked a peek at his face, finding the signature smirk gracing his face. That expression never failed to feel like a sharpened knife piercing through the walls of your uncertainty. It complimented his face too well, dragging the attention to Neil’s sharp features and his remarkable eyes that always felt like they could see right through your bullshit and the pretending. It was terrifying.

It was then, in the light of his frightening beauty, that you decided what to do next. What was necessary to keep you (moderately) sane. One look at your tote bag lying on your lap offered inspiration:

“Fab,” your dry comment elicited Neil’s laugh and sealed the deal on what you wanted to do next. There was no backing out. You straightened your spine and swivelled on the seat to face him fully. When your knees touched him, Neil’s eyes widened almost comically. But that was only the beginning of the wild ride for him, you were sure of it, “Well, then… Dance with me,” the delivery of that line required a special nonchalance.

One that required you to hold Neil’s gaze long after you had finished speaking, and the words had only just dawned on him. Once they did, his eyes got comically large, and his lips parted on what could only be a mute expression of horror. A giggle got trapped in your throat, but you fought valiantly against it. For now.

“Pardon?” Neil’s choked-out question came after sequenced opening and closing his mouth with nothing coming up.

Your poker face was tearing at the seams. Foolishly.

“Dance with me, Neil,” repeating the request (order?), you extended your hand towards him, signing off the invitation for what it was.

The shock was still present on his face. Despite that, Neil slipped his palm, warm and fitting perfectly, into yours. You could tell that it was not entirely conscious on his part.

You sure did not mind it, though.

“I might have had a drink or two, but I didn’t think I was drunk enough to be hearing things,” Neil’s incredulity bled into his tone as he stared you down as if hoping the sheer disbelief would be enough to deter you.

Tough luck.

“Come on,” squeezing his hand, you switched the tactic with a question, “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” there was no judgment in your gaze, and you hoped Neil knew that.

If asked, you could not explain why that was something you wanted to do with him, there and then of all places. But it still felt important. Urgent, even.

The no-bullshit look you got in return almost made you burst into laughter.

“You’ll see me dance,” Neil deadpanned as if it was clear.

As if that was the peak horror that could befall him at your hands. Using the lifeline of your joined palms, you rubbed your thumb over the tender skin of his hand, hoping to let that act as a reassurance. That was a nonsensical fear to have.

Who gave you, a mediocre ballerina, the right to judge? Absolutely no one.

“And?” you offered Neil a brilliant grin, doing your best not to think about how right it felt to have his hand resting in yours.

That question seemed to catch his attention, pulling him back from the precipice of self-doubt. You watched as Neil pondered the answer, staring at you with that bright-eyed, anxious expression, complete with his teeth nibbling on his lower lip. He picked at the worried, fragile skin, and you did not think about soothing the damage with your tongue. Not at all.

“I don’t know… You’ll leave and block me?” when he finally found a plausible answer, it was the last thing you expected Neil to say.

Despite the seriousness on his face, you could not hold back the laugh that spilt from your lips. What an idiot [affectionate]. The adorable pout in his bottom lip was responsible for the recklessness you chose to implement.

Without thinking about it too much, you leaned in and used your free hand to cup his face, eradicating the remains of the gap between you. As your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, Neil gasped, barely disguising the sound with a cough. The grin spread over your face as you spoke:

“It takes a little more than that for me to block you,” that was true; you could barely fathom blocking Neil, least of all because of such a trivial reason. It was only after a beat that the second meaning of what he said sunk in. The meaning you expected Neil did not exactly consider slipping out like that. You grabbed it with both hands and a knowing smile, “Also… you enjoy talking to me that much?”

The jackpot shot came with a furious blush on his cheeks and an embarrassed scoff as Neil turned away from your watchful gaze. Your hands stayed linked. That, too, was an adorable reaction. It made that pleasant warmth in your chest burner brighter, though you refused to inspect it too closely.

Before you could consider pushing him for a reply further, Neil jumped up from the creaky seat and pulled you to standing using your tight handhold. The fake pep was visible from miles away, especially in that manic grin that almost seemed too wide on his face. But you did not have the time to question it.

“Okay, let’s just dance,” Neil tugged at your hand impatiently.

He did not seem capable of standing still, hopping from one leg to another. If that was a sign of what was coming, you knew you were not ready. Your eyes narrowed in what you hoped was a mildly threatening look:

“That’s a deflection tactic,” still, you took a step closer to him, finally putting that handhold to use.

“Yes, it is,” Neil nodded as his arms opened in a shrug.

That was your answer. You could only cement it with a smile as you allowed him to pull you closer, almost into his open arms, except-

“Wait, we need music,” remembering that crucial missing piece, you let go of his hand and darted back to the tote abandoned by the seats.

“No shit,” Neil’s dry comment was accompanied by the scuffling of his shoes over the cracked tiles.

You grinned, triumphantly holding out the speaker you had fished from the bag. That was the only pro you could think of that came from your earlier practice, and no time in between that and the disastrous party.

“Lucky for you, I came prepared,” you showcased it like a spoil of war and turned the speaker on, awaiting the sound confirming it had connected to your phone. When it came, you ceremoniously placed the device on the vacated seat and pressed play on your phone. Only once the music was playing, you turned back towards Neil with a flourish, “Voila,”

It took him an additional second to identify the song, the synthesizer filling the empty platform with a special kind of vibe. When the proper beat kicked in, you started shimmying your hips and shoulders to the rhythm, awaiting Neil’s reaction. You were not disappointed when he gaped at you with joy barely disguised underneath a frown:

“Really?” still, his foot started tapping with the singer’s voice.

Shrugging, you spun around him, feeling the music fill your body like it always did. You always felt the most alive when dancing. When your feet were following the choreography, and head was deliciously empty of everything but the musical notes and lyrics.

When you stopped to meet Neil’s gaze, you found him staring back in awe.

“What? It’s not me; it’s the holy spirit of the shuffle,” the song started heading towards the chorus, so you added the hand movements, orbiting around Neil and hoping to pull him along, “Can’t argue with it,”

‘Don't. Don't you want me?

You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me

Don't. Don't you want me?

You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me’

It was an all-time favourite. A bop you did not have the heart to resist whenever it came on. Now was not any different. Your lips started whispering the words as your body moved through the space, overcome with the feeling of dancing. At that moment, you were grateful for the sensible footwear your past self had chosen that morning. Sure, dancing in high heels was possible, but the Converse made for a much better choice. They slid along the cracked tiles without resistance, allowing you to double the efforts.

It did not matter that you had an audience. Or that it was a particularly attentive one, for you never once felt Neil look away. He was still staring, standing almost stock-still, save for how his feet tapped out the beat. That had to change.

‘Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!’

You stopped, chest heaving and limbs still too giddy with the effort. You met Neil’s unwavering gaze over the space and mouthed the chorus, aware of the interpretations he could easily reach. That was fine, nothing you were opposed to. In a way, him noticing half your actions did have a tentative hope behind them would have saved you time. And words. But that was a thought for another time.

Once you heard the female vocals come in, you reached out towards him, yet again presenting Neil with your open hand. Yet again, he did not hesitate, letting you pull him close. When the distance had been eradicated, Neil placed his hand on your waist with an experimental level of timidity. As if he was still fully expecting the move to backfire. Silly goose. Your hand ventured up his chest to his shoulder as you steeled your frame into what was expected of ballroom dancing. The habits were hard to shake off, after all.

Despite the booming synthesizers and grooving rhythm, you let him lead you into a slow dance. With each step, Neil’s confidence seemed to grow, for his grip became firmer as he splayed his hand over the small of your back and pulled you closer. It did not matter that his technique would bring your snobbish teachers from ballet study to tears. What mattered was that you felt safe within his embrace, never shying away from Neil’s gaze as it stayed trained on your face. What also mattered was that the genuine smile was fixed on your face. Especially when the song was slowly ending, and Neil was not letting go. What a novelty that was. You worried that once you tasted it, it would be impossible to let go. To forget this careless feeling, encapsulated within a simple, tender hold and open, beautiful eyes.

“That was hardly a song for slow dancing,” when Neil spoke, the remark came upon a hesitant smile, so at odds with how sure his hand was within yours.

“We made do, didn’t we?” you could only offer him a smile, aware of the wobbly edges of your voice and the yearning of your treacherous heart.

Even with years of practice, it sometimes wanted what it could not get. Affection, namely. Or the tenderness that meant something, rather than the mindless touch of a loveless fuck. You hoped one day those two would disappear, leaving you perfectly satisfied with what you had.

As if aware of your dangerous thoughts, the song switch came at a perfect moment. The last beats of The Human League died down, replaced with an equally cheesy rhythm. If not worse. Neil’s reaction was instant. He stopped dancing abruptly, making you nearly miss stepping on his foot. Your eyes darted to his face as curiosity soared in your chest. The barely masked joy you found there only made that warmth in your heart feel like tongues of fire. You disentangled from the embrace to place your hand on his chest and push him back lightly:

“Come on, pretty boy. Show me what you’ve got,” you completed the encouragement with a wink and stepped back to give him space.

The hesitation stage lasted much less this time. Neil stared at you, evidently weighing the pros and cons of giving in, but as soon as Falco opened the song with the lines in German, he had made up his mind. It was your turn to be dumbfounded as you watched Neil thrash to the music, almost keeping up with the beat. He slid across the tiles, barely managing not to slip as Falco went on about Mozart and his flair.

‘Er war ein Virtuose, war ein Rockidol

Und alles rief: Come on and rock me Amadeus’

It was easy to say Neil got lost in the music as his lean body twisted and turned, claiming the space he was allowed to occupy. There was grace in his movement, as well as carelessness, perfectly balancing the dance into an ideal mixture. A rare spark of envy kindled in your chest as you did your best to ignore the question of what it must feel like to be this free. During the poor attempt at moonwalking as he circled you, you could no longer hold back the laugh. Neil’s hands weaved through the air as he threw his head back to shout the hook along with the singer. With each call of Amadeus’ name, the affection in your chest grew, becoming increasingly lethal. A show of that kind displayed not only his trust but also what kind of a man Neil could be if he got rid of his shyness and inhibitions. It was something you doubt you could ever forget.

And that could be a problem.

When the song drew to a close, and Neil’s heaving breaths alerted you that he was probably worn out with exertion, he stopped. The reverberating beats sunk into the background as you met his gaze, aware of the silly softness you could not eradicate from your eyes. Neil looked manic, his pupils dilated and irises sparkling. He was breathing hard, the exhaustion making him shrug off the jean jacket with impatience, so far that Neil did not bat an eyelid when the article landed on the dirty floor. The reveal of an old, worn-out t-shirt underneath that hugged his broad shoulders and biceps just right made your jaw fall slack.

That, too, could be a problem.

Despite the common sense screaming at you to look away, you stared on, aware of Neil gazing right back. A wiser person would have shaken awake in time to switch off the music and call this quits before any further damage could be done. But you were never the wiser person.

You looked on as the song switched into a different era of music, and gentle, cheesy chords of piano and percussion filled the platform with a ballad almost everyone knew. Neil was not any different. You noticed the change in his eyes, switching from playfulness to mild seriousness. As if he, too, knew your fates were being decided at that exact moment.

However, the results of those decisions would not be noticeable until much later.

Using Elvis’ crooning as a backup to help drown your thoughts, you reached out your hand towards Neil, repeating the invitation. It was up to him whether he wanted to take it. Just like everything else in your friendship. The eager hope was hard to nip in the bud. It itched and ached until you could hardly stand still, awaiting the sentencing for what felt like hours. At last, Neil closed the gap and took your proffered hand with an impassive look.

The second time bore all the experience of the first, making it easier to fall in place without hesitation. Neil clasped your hand in his and let his other arm wind around your waist, pulling you close. Much closer than before. Your hand found its way to his shoulder, curious fingers stroking the expanse of his neck, revealed by the t-shirt collar. You did your best not to notice the goosebumps rising on his skin. It was impossible to tell which of you moved first, leading into the gentle sway. Only once you started waltzing around the empty platform, it was impossible to stop.

‘Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?’

Halfway through the song, you tilted your head back from where your gaze had been trained on the expanse of his chest and met Neil’s waiting gaze. The shock passing through your system felt like a fatal blow. There was no denying the fact that this was a first. The first time you had ever danced like that with someone, motivated by nothing else but the desire to do it. There was also no denying the fact Neil’s watchful eyes and the soft strokes of his fingers, running along the expanse of your waist down to your hip, felt like nothing else you could have ever experienced before or after. It was well past your usual flirty chats and casual innuendos. Well past the daily playfulness of whatever it was blooming between you. It was well past the worn-out tracks and lived-in spaces.

Absolutely fucking terrifying.

‘Take my hand,

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

For I can't help falling in love with you’

It was impossible to say what had tipped the scales right then. Whether it was the song lyrics, drawing attention to all those things you would rather ignore till the end of time or the unwavering eye contact you had maintained as you spun across the space with grace that had not been there previously. Or whether it was due to how Neil held you steadily, all the while allowing himself to stare, eyes roaming over your face in a meticulous study. But perhaps it was just a trick of fate, a sudden loss of reason and logic that made you tip forward and give in to the gravitational pull of his orbit. Perhaps Neil was guilty of the same thing.

Before you knew what had failed and why, you were close enough to feel the gasp of his breath fan across your face. The air ghosted your lips as your nose brushed against Neil’s, and the time slowed to a crawling speed. There was no denying the fact that you wanted it. The want hummed underneath your skin and made it hard to think clearly.

You only knew that Neil closed his eyes, and his sharp intake of breath hit your lips, making you tilt forward. Making it oh so easy to let go and-

“This is Piccadilly Line service towards the Heathrow Airport,” the PA system crackled to life, forcing you to separate as if burned.

You blinked awake, barely noticing the train slowing at the platform and the music still playing from your speaker. One glance at Neil told you all feelings were very much mutual. It was a close call. So close you could almost feel the kiss that never happened. An uncertain smile played upon your lips as you turned off the music and jumped aboard the train. You could only hope the King of the Rock’N’Roll himself was wrong about this one.

***

It was a well-known truth that a pretty boy could make you a little stupid. Stupid enough to do things that, under normal circumstances, would be off the table. But all it took was a flash of blue eyes and a charming smile, and boom, logic gone, reason decimated. Usually, there was a price to pay for that.

But the potential costs meant nothing in the face of the revelations the Saturday night brought. Namely, the kiss that never happened but you could easily dream of. Which you did, just to brighten up the restless sleep. Needless to say, that night unlocked some things. Things that perhaps were best left untouched. But hindsight was a gift you did not yet possess.

Instead, you battled with a single idea that was difficult to eradicate. Sure, that night, or how it had almost ended, was never mentioned again. As early as the next day Neil reached out to you and set the tone you were happy to follow. But the memory remained, nagging at your brain for a week and not once letting go. It was a seed that planted another thought. The thought that nothing was preventing you from reaching out for more. That there was no script to follow with Neil. That idea was like a brainworm making a home inside your skull.

Because, yes, you were known to be a little stupid for attractive boys. And Neil was potentially the most beautiful man you have ever met. That proved to be a problem.

Exactly a week after that Saturday, you caved in. The autumn breeze was hitting your face and tangling your hair as you stared at the Thames. There was no better place to start a catastrophic chain of events than the Blackfriars Bridge. Or so you told yourself. You took out the phone to stare at the messages and opened the text conversation with Neil. It took an additional fortifying breath to start typing out the proposition and start the exchange.

/ 🏹, 5:39 pm/ So, I figured, since we already broke the rules on our hangouts last Saturday

/ 🏹, 5:40 pm/ Would you like to grab coffee tomorrow?

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ That’s unexpected.

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ Why the sudden change of heart?

/ 🏹, 5:46 pm/ I liked your moves.

/✝️, 5:47 pm/ I’m pretty sure no one’s ever said that to me.

/ 🏹, 5:49 pm/ Maybe they just weren’t looking. I knew I was.

/✝️, 5:51 pm/ Okay, yeah. I’d like that.

/✝️, 5:52 pm/ Any labels I should be aware of?

/ 🏹, 5:52 pm/ Nah, fuck the labels.

/ 🏹, 5:53 pm/ Unless you want to bring me flowers. Then let’s call it a date.

/✝️, 5:55 pm/ Then it’s a date 😘

You stared at the phone long after the screen went dark. Along with the buzzing joy and anticipation of what tomorrow would bring, there was also an eternal question. The question you had avoided pretty damn well so far. What the fuck have you done?

***

By the time you were meeting Neil in a café (chosen because of its perfect location between St. John’s Wood and Swiss Cottage), those nerves of anticipation had transformed into anxiety. The worst was that you did not even know what you were so nervous about. A date (that was not really a date) was nothing new. You have done it many times before, usually to great results. But suddenly, when Neil was inserted into the equation, all that you got was uncertainty. And a strong fear of fucking it up. It did not make for a good mix.

Part of it dissipated once you turned the street corner and saw him waiting in front of the café, a bouquet in hand, despite your line being nothing more than a throwaway joke. An affectionate smile was impossible to get rid of no matter how hard you may have tried. It stayed as you closed the remaining distance and met Neil’s gaze. Then it got transformed into a stupid grin as your eyes scanned him head to toe (hair just as messy as always, leather and jeans completed with sneakers – in other words: fucking hot). Once that foolery was complete, you could shift your attention to the flowers, now held out in your direction like a sheepish offering.

It was a colourful bouquet of wildflowers, freshly bloomed and coming from a florist rather than Sainsbury’s. The thoughtfulness was enough to make you blush. Before you could delve into an embarrassing attempt at cover-up, Neil broke the silence:

“You haven’t specified what kind of flowers,” his shyness was easily seen from the fidgeting hands and eyes unwilling to stay on your face longer than necessary.

That was your cue to get yourself together and accept the bouquet with a courtesy. That, too, was just a trick to drag that shy smile onto his face. It worked.

“Those are perfect, thank you,” with another smile, you turned towards the entrance and went in as Neil held the door. It was a cosy café with only a few tables and a bar-service ordering. You motioned towards the smiling server behind the counter with a question, “Wanna go order coffee?”

You did not expect in response to your innocent ask for Neil to come to a strange stand-still in the middle of the entryway and measure you with a look that spoke volumes about him having something to say and no way of expressing it. You raised your eyebrow, urging the words to come out and save you from death by perplexation.

After a beat, Neil seemingly found the ability to speak again and stumbled through a sentence:

“I’ve got… uh… a thing,” the emphasis on the final word was accompanied by an awkward shift, his hand automatically reaching up to comb through his hair and messing it up even more.

That did not help. At all. You blinked, aware of the comedy role you had just been awarded without warning. You were vaguely conscious of the server’s gaze, undoubtedly staring at the spectacle presented with fascination.

“Jesus, what thing?” when Neil did not elaborate, you prodded with another question, gaining a slightly hysterical edge.

It was probably that tone which made the most impact. Neil seemed to wake up, his hands gesturing as he attempted to explain:

“A thing about figuring out people’s drink order,” he shrugged, almost as if already embarrassed by ever bringing it up; that would not do, “Like a-”

“A kink?” you interrupted his explanation with a devilish grin, knowing that it would do the job.

That and the teasing, of course.

The reaction was instantaneous. Where previously there had been mild shyness and uncertainty, the furious blush had bloomed. Neil looked horrified as he took a step in your direction as if considering sealing your mouth shut before finally admitting defeat. What you got instead was a glare and an affronted reply:

“What? No! More like talent, I guess,” Neil shrugged, visibly battling the dilemma you were not privy to. You decided to help him the best way you knew how – by reaching out and squeezing his hand. Once. Just once. It was enough to do the job and make your fingers itch with an inexplicable desire to prolong the contact. Luckily, it disappeared when Neil recovered from his internal crisis and gestured towards the counter, “May I?”

You could only nod, happy that whatever had just transpired was past you. Not that it was not fun, but because of the audience that did not deserve to see what had happened. Whatever it was.

“You’ve got me intrigued, so now you have to,” shrugging upon Neil’s hesitant smile, you ventured inside the café, scouting for a perfect table.

Soon enough, the ideal booth had been located and taken as you awaited Neil’s return. You did not have to wait long, for as soon as you settled and placed your coat on the backrest, he sat in the chair in front. That sheepish smile was still in place, so you tried to bring back his confidence with dumb chitchat until you were interrupted by the server approaching your table. It worked. As you both fell quiet, Neil was visibly fighting a grin threatening to transform his face. The pride surged in your veins without respect towards your sense of humility.

The woman shot you both a bright smile as she set neared the table and put a steaming porcelain cup in front of Neil:

“Flat White for you, sir, and for your girlfriend-” you never got to hear the end of that sentence as Neil’s horrified expression and a loud interruption stole your attention.

“Oh, we’re not-” your laughter was almost enough to drown out his protest.

Almost because the server still looked extremely apologetic as she placed a larger cup in front of you with a clink.

“-Caramel Macchiato,” you waved off the atonement she seemed ready to launch and smiled, the curiosity at his choice already occupying your mind.

“Thank you,” as soon as the woman was out of earshot, you turned your cheeky smile onto Neil and covered his hand resting on the table with your palm, “Are you ashamed of me, my darling?” your favourite blush spread upon his cheeks, widening your grin in the process.

A blunder like that was not something you would ever lose sleep over. Even less so, considering that you were there with Neil. Even with your deep-rooted dislike over anything that had to do with relationships and the complications they lead to, you could not possibly be angry over being perceived as belonging to Neil. If anything, it was flattering.

“Stop it,” he shook off your hand, way too gently, and shook his head as if desperate to clear it, “I just didn’t-” after a beat, he dropped your gaze, giving up the fight, “It doesn’t matter, sorry” although you would do anything to understand the thought processes unfolding behind those slightly vacant blue eyes, you were not given a chance. Instead, he took a fortifying sip of coffee and looked at your cup, (not so) swiftly changing the topic “So… how did I do?” the anticipation in that gaze offered no space for a bargain.

You glanced at the beverage in front of you and slowly raised it to get a tentative taste. The warm liquid slightly burned your tongue, but before you could mourn the damage, the caffeine and creamy caramel filled your mouth with pleasurable goodness. It was a top-notch choice, making you follow that first sip with another almost without a break. Burned tongue be damned.

“Very good, actually,” raising your head, you met Neil’s proud smile. It was a much better look than the embarrassed expression from earlier, motivating you to add, “Maybe you should try getting into BGT with that talent,” you winked at him, even if to prolong the blush, which had begun to fade.

But also because it was fun to compliment him, considering that you meant every word and because of your suspicions that Neil did not get them often. That alone was a travesty, in your opinion.

“Very funny,” rolling his eyes at you with a happy smile tucked in the corner of his lips, Neil looked even better.

It was easy enough a conclusion that lightness and happiness were a good look on him. Especially when you were the cause. You tried not to let that go into your head, but… Well.

“I know,” you matched his smile with a smirk of your own, “Hysterical,” with the perfect pause to take another sip of the glorious coffee, you shifted the topic, “How was the week at the clergy?”

Without Neil’s continuous amused reactions to the same old joke, you would have dropped it by now. But how could you if it still got a laugh out of him each time? You couldn’t let opportunities like that slip by. No chance.

This time, Neil hid the joyous huff of laughter in the coffee cup as he pondered the answer.

“It’s been good. Fine,” a noncommittal shrug offered no room for guessing what it was that he did, which was still a mystery, but you counted wins where you could find them, “A bit busy, but what can you do. I might have a work trip coming up soon, so…” it was only when the second part of his reply was processed by your brain, currently preoccupied with staring at Neil’s mouth (which was a very normal state of mind to have), that you perked up.

That was important information. For two contrasting reasons. One was that whatever Neil did for work involved work trips, and that narrowed down the field, albeit barely. Two was that it would mean he would not be around every Wednesday, ready to meet you. That second deduction took hold of your heart with the icy grasp of disappointment.

“So, no more Wednesday meetups?” it was impossible to keep the sadness out of your tone as you settled a wary gaze on Neil.

Sure, it was survivable. But where would be the fun in it?

It was not fun to see that same apprehension creep into Neil’s eyes.

“Yeah, but only like… for a few weeks,” from his sudden dislike of eye contact, you guessed that the estimation might have been an understatement. Though you did hope he was not lying. The pitiful look must have been still present on your face, for Neil followed the statement with reassurance, “I’m sure you’ll survive without me,” he hesitated for a millisecond before returning your previous gesture and giving your hand a comforting pat.

You did not move it away, the pleasant warmth and weight of his palm seeping through your skin and soothing the sudden spell of sadness. It was difficult not to let that inexplicable feeling lead you into the deep end as it was not something you understood. It settled in the darkest cavern of your heart and accompanied its beat with its foreboding presence. There was no choice but to push past it.

“I don’t know, I’m going to miss you,” the confession felt dangerously light on your tongue as you registered Neil’s reaction. His beautiful eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he quickly dropped your gaze, choosing to stare at the table instead. The only sign that you were heard was how his thumb stroked your hand repeatedly, “I hope you’ll be back before the premiere,” using the only way you knew of lightening the conversation, you made sure to slip in a playful tone.

Ever since the day you had shared joyous news with Neil, he often asked about the preparations for the ballet. He seemed genuinely interested in the process, the rehearsals, and your impressions at every stage.

When you innocently hinted at a costume fitting in your texts Neil immediately asked for a picture. You complied, gleefully posing in the dressing room mirror wearing the whole get-up, complete with pointe shoes, tights, and a white ballet tutu with the accents of blue flower petals. All in all, you had the right to believe that Neil would be interested in coming to see the ballet when it premiered. You had that covered.

“I’ll do my best,” his hopeful smile was enough to distract you, for soon Neil followed it with a question, “Do I get an invite?”

The cheeky smile was back in full force, almost wiping you off the surface of the Earth. More of that, please. Feeling brave, you slowly tangled your fingers with his to raise your joined hands from the tabletop and squeezed his palm. It was a silly question to ask. You had to make sure Neil knew that.

“Well, duh,” you started with an eye roll, taking pleasure from the feel of his hand holding yours, “I’m going to need a personal cheerleader for when I fail big time,” it was a rare thing to hear you admit the fear and anxieties out loud.

Most of the time, they only existed in your mind, never expressed. And especially not in a conversation because that fear of someone else confirming all you feared was overwhelming. It was better to appear invincible to the world than to let them know your weaknesses. Somehow this logic did not want to apply itself to Neil. No, he has heard it all. And yet, he did not seem keen on confirming you were right to doubt yourself.

“That’s not going to happen. You’ll be the perfect Cupid,” punctuating the encouragement with a squeeze of the hand, Neil shot you a brilliant grin.

The nickname was growing on you. It was also the cause of a few silly smiles during the rehearsals when you were addressed with your character role. That was alright, too.

Now, with the force of his beautiful smile shining upon you like a rare beacon of hope, you tried your hardest not to let the praise consume you whole. Instead, you turned to the faithful vice of sarcasm as you let go of his hand and settled your chin on your folded palms. Eyelashes and doe eyes in full force. Naturally.

“Wow, my charms must be working if you’re this blindsided,” curling the corner of your mouth in a smirk, your eyes roamed over his face in familiar patterns.

It was refreshing to remember why you invited him out in the first place. Why you have decided to break the unwritten role and step on the line you both had been tiptoeing from day one. Why nothing was holding you back from reaching for what you wanted.

This time, Neil did not turn away from your taxing gaze and met it head-on. Almost as if permitting you to proceed with whatever you desired.

“You’ve no idea, sweetheart,” mirroring your tentative smirk, Neil offered you a wink and picked up the coffee cup.

You were certainly not going to eschew a chance like that.

***

As far as first dates (could he even call it that?) went, meeting up for coffee and letting the conversations run without a disaster somewhere in between was rare. Even rarer still considering that Neil did not know how he got to this point and whether it was not all a dream. The jury was out on that. Even though Sunday was now two days ago, the meeting was still fresh in his mind, posing a thousand questions.

Because he really did not know how he got that place. The only certainty was that sometime between the surprising Saturday night meeting at Leicester Square station and the day after, Cupid made up her mind and chose to strike. Alternatively, she decided to act considering the realisations he was not privy to. Sure, that night at the station almost ended with a kiss. He knew that. He was there. But it did not offer answers as towards why an almost kiss made her behave in contrast to what Neil thought he understood about her.

Because a date was definitely a step above flirting. And it was hard to understand what that meant. If anything at all.

Now, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, Neil stared out the window of the HQ cafeteria and tried his hardest not to think about it (her) for a change. It was not going well, as one could expect. From the corner of his eye, he could tell Ives was staring. Those piercing blue eyes (bluer than his, which has once or twice been proved during a night out as those things usually are) have been glancing his way instead of focusing on the sandwich on his plate. What a prick (affectionate). After what felt like a fiftieth glance, Neil dropped the napkin onto his place with force and turned towards Ives with a glare. The patience has worn out.

“Oh, just spit it out,” Neil hissed the words with ire.

The grin spreading upon Ives’ lips did not help a bit. The soldier leaned forward, abandoning his food and setting the perceptive eyes upon his friend. Mercilessly. With years of friendship, Neil knew this was not ending well.

“I haven’t said a word,” the man shrugged; a picture-perfect nonchalance.

If only.

“But you’ve been staring,” Neil’s attempt at covering up the tension with a bored tone failed.

He knew that as soon as he saw Ives’ unimpressed smile. There were no doubts about where this conversation was heading. It was the interrogation Neil had feared from day one. It was only a matter of time. Damn it.

“Go ask Henrik. Maybe he can help you gauge my eyes,” in moments like this, Ives’ cockney accent came out in full force, tearing at the shreds of patience Neil seemed to have.

Despite himself, he cracked a smile at the comeback.

“Doubtful,” quickly hiding it in the sip of tea, Neil muttered a quip of his own.

While Henrik, the team’s medic, was a peculiar man, it was improbable he would be into that kind of thing. Unfortunately.

“Eh, I wouldn’t put it past him,” before he could hope this was the end of the conversation, Ives levelled him with another no-bullshit look and delivered the sentence in four simple words, “Mate, spit it out,”

If only it were that easy. For one, Neil did not even know what there was to tell. Sure, he has met a girl. He was probably thinking too much about said girl daily. But that was it. The end of the story. Pathetic, as per usual.

“I’d rather not,” as the last resort of keeping his dignity intact, Neil averted his gaze and fixed his stare on the dirty floor of the cantina.

A solitary potato chip was lying there, attracting attention. For one, maddening second, his brain tried to concoct an elaborate metaphor in which he was like that lonely, forgotten chip on the ground.

Thankfully, the idea was soon dispersed by his irreplicable companion and his booming voice, cutting through the idiotic thoughts:

“I beg to differ,” the hint of reassurance in Ives’ voice was responsible for luring Neil into listening, just as the soldier delivered the question, “What’s her name? His name? Their name?”

Admittedly, the inclusive way of asking was a nice touch from someone who frequently lacked decorum. Or, more accurately, did not bother with it. It was that addition that made Neil crack, with the final resolve crumbling as he tried to protest:

“There’s no- Cupid,” giving out a tired sigh, Neil finally raised his head and repeated the nickname with something ridiculously close to the softness of affection, “I call her Cupid,”

It made no sense. He knew that. But it did not help that whenever he thought of her, that stupid, embarrassing part of his heart was roused awake from periodical slumber. So much for being reasonable.

As soon as Ives whistled lowly and that familiar sardonic grin appeared on his face, Neil knew it was a mistake.

“Kinky,” his murderous glare got ignored in favour of another pressing question, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Lucky was definitely an overstatement if you asked Neil. But he did not fancy getting into the specifics of the relationships yet. Instead, he happily let himself delve back into memories of that first meeting. He still could not find other apt ways to describe it than a strike of fate. Dramatic? Sure, that was his second name.

He did doubt that Ives would appreciate the insane poetic ruminations, however.

“I’ve met her at the Tube, and she’s a ballerina… Pretty fucking cool, at that” that was a non-negotiable fact. Period.

Yet from the way his friend stared at him, Neil could easily deduct that here, too, he sounded like the insane idiot that he was. An idiot that finds friends on the Tube and lets that develop into something else. Something he tried very hard not to define. It was going splendidly well. Of course.

“Uh oh,” as if reading his mind, Ives, the prick, pasted on a silly grin and bated his eyelashes down at him, continuing the interrogation, “Is that a crush I’m sensing?”

Fuck. That was, indeed, a mistake.

Not that there was a crush because there absolutely wasn’t anything of that sort. Idiot, he might have been, but not… No. No. Which is exactly why Neil had to pause to cover his face with his hands and let out a deep sigh. Conveniently ignoring Ives and his bullshit assumptions.

Only once he felt like the annoyance had simmered to an acceptable white noise, Neil dropped the hands covering his face and met his destiny in the form of an infuriating sardonic smile.

“No, she’s just… I’m fascinated, okay? I’ve never met anyone like her before, and we’ve got a good thing going with weekly chats and… stuff,” running out of steam, Neil let the last word trail off into silence.

He knew what it all sounded like. He did. Except that there was no better way of describing it (them) to the outside world. And he was certainly not keen on showing Ives the texts. Not after the last conversation this morning, which involved more innuendos and another rendition of What socks are you wearing? - his favourite game. Truly. What made the exchange more incriminating, however, was the fact that Cupid’s current socks brandished an image of an adorable pug with a caption: “Send dog pics”. Yeah, that. That was a theme he was so far happy to ignore. Kind of.

“Did you kiss her yet?” another ridiculous question acted like a wake-up call as Neil felt the loathed, crimson blush fill his cheeks.

“What is this? Middle school?” another outburst got met with a stoically blank face, not helping to ease the shame of being so goddamn transparent “No, I didn’t,” I wish, “We danced” offering the alternative lowkey felt like self-sacrifice.

Not because Neil was embarrassed of what had happened that Saturday night but because it stayed a secret to anyone who was not him or Cupid. At least, that is what she told him, much to inexplicable surprise, which he could not and would not try to understand.

“I never knew you dance,” the soldier’s remark, as always, missed the mark.

Annoyance at the whole world, at this rate, rose at a steady pace. Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that Neil was frustrated at the circumstances of the relationship with the woman in question, but it was too soon for self-realisation to do its work.

“Of course, I do,” instead, it was the distant feel of pity that nagged at the edges of his soul as Neil allowed the dismissive reflection to be voiced without the veil of fake pep, “Anyway, none of it matters. She’s not into relationships, so…” he shrugged, aware of the pitiful picture.

In a way, it was easier to know that about her ahead of time. It was perfect information to push at his brain and heart whenever they got too comfortable with the situation. To remind them (and himself) that it was not going anywhere, and it never would.

But, for some infuriating reason, the heart tended to be a stubborn beast holding no regard for facts. Not that heart had anything to do with this just yet. Of course not. Neil just… liked her. As a human being likes another human being. Platonically.

“Surely, your roguish charm will convince her otherwise,” as expected, Ives looked as if he was trying very hard not to feel sorry for him and was failing.

The reassurance hardly worked if Neil was being honest. The existence of said roguish charm was highly debatable. But who was he to argue?

“Nah, it’s fine. I can be just friends with her” manifesting much, or whatever. It was a blessing to have a different topic to switch to, “Anyway, I’m not going to see her for the next couple of weeks since we’re leaving,” another attempt at a nonchalant shrug got lost in the heaviness Neil could not shake off if he tried.

Going off on a mission right now, in the middle of it all, was far from ideal. Neil liked his job, loved it even, but then, some operations felt like a drag from the moment they appeared on his desk. That was one of them.

“Yeah, Lisbon is on,” from the tiredness written all over Ives’ face, Neil could tell the lack of enthusiasm was shared, “Two weeks, but it might be longer,”

“Great,” sarcasm dripped from the word as Neil glanced at his friend and asked, “We’re going to bunk together?”

It was only half a joke. Because only the company made the perspective of that mission seem a little less daunting.

“You wish, love,” the answering grin on Ives’ face was the perfect punchline to the dramatic conversation. The soldier got up from the table with another quip, “You know I’m not into blondes,” he walked away without another glance, yet the laugh he elicited from Neil could be heard in the room above the cantina.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

34 notes · View notes

paddockbunny · 2 years

Text

All Too Well – Chapter Five

Summary : Alessandra Lucciano tells herself she has it all. She is Daniel Ricciardo's girlfriend after all. Isn't she? Well, sometimes she has to work hard to feel like it and no more so than when some girl shows up and makes her question her life as she knows it. So what happens when someone else starts paying her more attention than her boyfriend? Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x (OC) Alessandra Lucciano + Max Verstappen Rating : 18+ Word Count : 4,261 Trigger Warnings for this Chapter : Angst filled chapter (like it's the whole story ahahaha), rocky relationship, language Song Inspiration for this Chapter : "'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello" And your eyes look like comin' home, All I know is a simple name, Everything has changed." - Everything Has Changed. 💞 Authors Note : Thank you to all the lovely people who have asked to be added to the tag list and have sent such nice messages this past week while I’ve been away. I had an awful 2 day migraine that had an effect on my irl work (I’m freelance so have to catch up or I loose money from clients.) I am also on holiday/vacation this week so I may not have a lot of time to post but I will try 🙏🏼 This is not proof read

11th of September 2020 – Alessandra’s Apartment - Monaco

Music gently soared out of the speakers around the apartment. Ali hummed along as, clad only in a towel, she darted into the living room to collect the delivery box from her sofa. Thankfully the dress had arrived this morning after she got home from the gym. It would have been a disaster if it hadn’t. She didn’t own anything that she felt was really good enough for such an event like she was going to later. Sure, she had some lovely clothes that she had invested in and collected but she didn’t want to wear something she had worn before and perhaps now wouldn’t maybe not be as “in” or as current as what most of the other guests would be wearing. After all, an event in Monaco would be considered most people’s Oscars and not a regular Wednesday night. In fact, a few years ago Ali would have only been asked to one of these events as a photographer. She would simply have been asked to take shots of all the glamorous beautiful people there and so she had to keep pinching herself that she was actually going to be an attendee.

Once she got back to her bedroom she chucked the large white box on the bed and excitedly tore off open the cardboard. Ali wasn’t poor but she didn’t come from a family of millionaires either, so every single time she put her money into her closet she felt very exhilarated that she was able to do this – especially coming from a single mother household – and felt proud of what she had accomplished. Therefore, a broad smile appeared on her face when she pulled the dress from the black tissue paper. With a content sigh she walked over to the mirror and held the soft, luxurious black velvet mini dress against herself. It was perfect. Not too dressy and not too relaxed. But there she realised that it was therefore slightly ironic that the designer of such a beautiful garment happened to be Australian and the memory of the heated argument she had had with Daniel over this exact evening flooded her brain.

2nd of September 2020 – Daniel’s Apartment – Monaco

Excitement built to a feverish high when she pulled the invitation out of her bag. She had been trying to find a way all evening to show him her excited bit of news but it never seemed quite the right second. Until finally, she staved off her anxiety and brandished the beautiful black paper out in front of herself as he returned from filling their glasses up with wine.

“What’s that?” He smirked – probably thinking it was something for him - and tilted his head back to observe her more fully. Her heart had never beat so strongly in all her life. Her hands felt clammy and she wasn’t sure she would be able to control her voice if he asked her to explain to her what she was now, shakily holding out to him. Ali’s eyes scanned his blank face, desperately hoping to see some positive, pleased emotion after he took it from her and began to read.

“What is this? Who sent it too you?” It wasn’t the worst reaction. He had just stated a fairly regular normal query. “Why do I know this name?” He was referring to the brand name on the very top of the invite.

“Elin. It’s an invite to Elin’s jewellery launch next week.” She was correct; her voice did in fact shake when she explained to him what he was holding in his hand. She tried to make sure her voice didn’t sound too sunny or elated when she finally got the words out but she knew she probably failed in that pursuit. She was excited now as she had been when she first opened it nearly a week prior - which had only been a week after that perfectly normal dinner that Daniel announced he didn’t want her support at races and crushed her soul. Ali studied him as he looked over and over the paper as if it was going to give him some magical response or he was going to find the Holy Grail written between its cursive lettering. He made this “hmmpf” noise, which sounded an awful lot like a scoff before he finally said; “why is she sending you that?”

“Well…” She started, clearing her voice as if it would help ease her trepidation. “She’s inviting me to her jewellery launch.” “I can see that but why?” It was something that Ali hadn’t been prepared for him to ask and in truth; she didn’t really understand what he was asking. He knew how events worked – hell he had been to millions of them – so the actual meaning behind the invite wasn’t what he needed clarification on. Ali sat stumped before she registered exactly what it was he was asking. Why her?

“I uh…I don’t know.” Came flowing from her lips first but then as she began to feel a tightening in her chest she felt turmoil burning inside of her. Since that awful dinner party she commanded herself to be more resilient when it came to Daniel and the things he did or said. She didn’t want to be that girl that let her boyfriend get inside of her head because she absolutely, 100% was NOT that girl before she met him. But with anxiety now freely running through her body she wasn’t quite able to accomplish the resilience she needed and eventually blurted out; “I think she wants me there, you know, as a guest.” Daniel chucked the invitation down on the coffee table before him and passed Ali her glass of wine. “Probably trying to make up numbers. There’s always someone launching jewellery or skincare or something else in this town.” He sat back down beside her and turned his attention back to the TV.

Ali sat and tried to pay attention to the programme that was playing but was failing miserably. Initially she felt wounded by his words over the matter and his harsh insinuation that she wasn’t actually wanted and was only to fill a seat. Ali knew how these events worked because she had photographed enough of them to know, but it didn’t seem like the invite came from that place he was suggesting at all. Elin had even requested her to follow her on her private instagram and that didn’t seem like the type of thing a fake person would have done. Even though a few minutes had passed, Ali’s eyes had never left the paper sitting on Daniel’s coffee table and now, she leaned across and picked it up. And as she slid it back into her bag she quietly stated; “Well I’m going to go.”

Daniel’s jerking movement beside her instantly grabbed her attention. “Why?” He said first “Why do you want to go to someone’s vanity project? Someone you’ve only met once.” Daniel’s tone sounded as though he was mocking her. In her mind she thought of an accurate response as to why she had only met Elin once. One that put the onus back on to him and suggested the real root of their issues, why he wanted to keep her a secret. But she decided against that. “I want to support her. She was very passionate about it when we spoke that night.” “How can you support someone you hardly know?” Ali took a deep breath when Daniel responded. She had given him a metaphorical olive branch, an escape road if you will, and he hadn’t taken it.

“Still. I’ve ordered a dress and I’m going to go.” Her voice was timid this time as if she was preparing herself for a blazing argument but silence fell between them and remained for quite some time. Ali felt confident in that moment that not only had she won but also that she had sort of put Daniel in his place. He continued drinking his wine and every now and then picked up his phone and sent a few texts – with where the conversation had just been she didn’t even want to know exactly who it was he was texting in case it was an answer she didn’t want to know.

A few hours later, Ali joined Daniel in his bedroom after putting their glasses in the dishwasher and turning off the rest of the lights, shutting the blinds they had forgotten about and made sure the door was bolted. He was brushing his teeth in the ensuite and his phone illuminated beside her on the dresser. Max’s name popped up and she thought it might be important so she called through to him.

“Babe, Max just texted you.” And just as she finished the last word he appeared beside her and swiftly grabbed his phone. It was odd behaviour but she had become accustomed to Daniel’s odd behaviours as of late. Ali pulled off the sweatshirt she was wearing (which belonged to Daniel) and went to the drawer in his dresser – the one that was hers – to find something to sleep in. “Ah, see, I told you the invitation wasn’t meant so seriously. Max just said you don’t have to go.” And just like that, Ali could have crumbled and been reduced to rubble right there on the plush soft carpet of Daniel’s bedroom. It had been Max he had been texting earlier. Crushed. Ali felt utterly crushed he would go so far to text Max about her not going that she couldn’t even look at him. A sharp exhale escaped her as she calmly turned and grabbed the sweatshirt she had been wearing and now walked across the room to where her shoes were and pulled the trainers on to her feet.

“What are you…” “I’m going home.” Daniel stared at her with disbelief. It was as though he genuinely thought he had done nothing wrong and the argument she thought she had quelled earlier was now ready to start up again. “You’re seriously going home? Why? Because I text Max to get you out of some boring event?”

“I wanted to go, Daniel. I actually wanted to go. I wasn’t asking for your permission earlier. I thought you would have thought it was nice of her, sweet of her to invite me.” As soon as she got it out there she knew this would be turning into one of their tiffs about the paddock. “I knew inviting them to dinner would do this.” He sighed “I knew as soon as you got in tow with someone like her you’d be…” He didn’t even finish the sentence. He didn’t have too. There it was. It was going to come back to the paddock and public relationship again. “What are you so scared of, Daniel?” She had asked the question a million times before. And a million times he never responded. So when he remained silent now, she just left without another word.

***

As she stood with her hair done nice and her make-up all pretty, staring into the mirror before slipping into this beautiful new dress, she felt a tug in the middle of her chest where her heart was and she knew exactly why. It was all fine and well attending this event on her own – hell, she had done loads of things far scarier than this on her own – but she wished she was going with Daniel. She wanted nothing more than to be glued to his arm and hanging on his every word tonight. Ali wanted to dazzle. She wanted the pair of them to be the perfect picture of the couple they were before all the paddock shit came in between them. She longed for a night like this for so long it felt like most of her life. She wanted a night where she was out with her man and bursting with happiness. In the days they had seen each other since the night she left his apartment they hadn’t spoken about it. Not a single word. But that was them all over. Ali was too nervous and scared to really bring anything up to him because he never failed to react badly and Daniel always wanted to move on and move past any disagreement or argument they had had. So they just acted like nothing was wrong between them. Ali hadn’t even told him she was still going and thought it was better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.

Dressed, she only needed to put her heels on when there was knocking and the front door of her apartment. Ali let swearwords tumble from her mouth as she rushed in the direction of the door. It was early for the driver to be here she thought, and weird he would come into the building but as she heard the keys in the lock she realised it wasn’t a driver and it was in fact Daniel. “Hey….” She slowly stated as he stood in the doorway

“Hey, you look nice. Am I missing something?” It was clear to Ali – as he cast his eyes over her standing there in her beautiful new dress – that Daniel had either forgotten about tonight or had turned up here on purpose with a motive of denying her the opportunity of attending the event. She swallowed and took a large inhale of air. “It’s Elin’s event tonight.” “You’re still intent on going?” He stated without skipping a beat. Ali registered that he didn’t sound surprised. His tone was more indifferent. She felt like she had to take that as a good sign because perhaps he had come to terms with the fact she was indeed still attending and it didn’t bother him anymore. She motioned to the dress as a way of silently saying; “obviously” to him and his eyebrows went up a fraction, which meant her assumption he was now fine about it was totally wrong.

“Is it the fact that I’m going to an event that you don’t like or is it because it’s her event and that means other people from your world will be there and you don’t like me meeting them?” It was bold of her to finally ask it but she only did so because she knew the answer and when he stayed silent – clearly he knew how harsh he would have sounded himself – she walked off to collect her shoes and bag from the bedroom. Her car was arranged to collect her in five minutes and it was five minutes too long. Ali decided she would rather wait around in the lobby of her building than stay in her own apartment with Daniel. She slipped her heels on while walking back through. Her bag was practically packed; she just needed her phone and her keys from the table near to him. It would be hard not to fall apart being that close to him, to smell his cologne and to feel his aura. But each time these things happened it began feeling like a bigger disappointment than the last.

“Ali…” There wasn’t emotion behind his voice when he stated her name. She grabbed both her phone and keys swiftly and thankfully he didn’t try to touch her because she would have simply died if he had.

“Lock up when you leave.” She equalled his bluntness and although she felt like she was about to loose it any second she didn’t tear up till she closed her front door behind herself and was waiting on the elevator.

MAX POV

Fuck these fucking events. I know I should want to be here, support Elin and be a good boyfriend, but if I’m offered one more canapé and someone (who has no real interest in it) asks how the season is going I am seriously going to head-butt them. The place really did look lovely and Elin had done a great job on everything but she had gone and done a Houdini on me so now I was left standing on my lonesome looking like a spare prick. Seriously, I must look like a part of the bloody furniture I’ve been stood here so long. Five minutes she told me and that was nearly a bloody hour ago. I looked at my watch and finished my third gin. I sneak away right now, no one would notice. I could probably feign an illness or whatnot, right? It was as if she really needed me here after all. I glanced around and tried to find her but her short frame had disappeared amongst some fashion folk in OTT outfits. I walked toward the bar area to dispose of my glass when I saw her, Alessandra.

Daniel’s girlfriend was here. She had decided to come after all. From his text I thought she wasn’t really keen on coming so it was very sweet of her that she did. As I looked at her that night, that dinner party – the one where I made sex noises over her food and felt uncomfortable as fuck when Daniel announced he didn’t want her support – flashed in front of my eyes and I knew it would be scared on my brain for as long as I lived. I had never seen someone look so utterly defeated like that before. Her emerald green eyes that had only just been filled with joy and passion, looked so fractured and vacant. It was so strange for Daniel to come out with something like that. Even now as I looked at her from the other side of the bar, I couldn’t understand or comprehend why he would be so cruel because truly she was fucking perfect. She glanced around and I could tell she was just like me. Feeling like she stood out because she wasn’t faffing over some industry people or fawning over someone who talked about themselves for the whole ten minute conversation, so I made my way over to her.

“Alessandra…” I waited for her to turn around before I smiled. It would have been embarrassing if it weren’t actually her. But thankfully, it was and I didn’t look like a dick.

“Max.” She smiled broadly; her perfectly straight pearly teeth were like a warm welcome that I felt like I had known my whole life. “This is,” She motioned to the event enthusiastically “You must be very proud.” She was so cute, that was so nice of her. The truth was I had no real reason to be proud because Elin had done all of this stuff months ago without a single input from me. She had worked for jewellery designers for years and so it was natural she wanted to go out on her own. All of the designs and manufacturing she did a year ago, before we even met, so I really couldn’t take any credit but sure, as a boyfriend I did feel proud of her for accomplishing her dreams. I nodded but I didn’t want to talk about the event - not because it would remind me of how bored I had been but because I wanted to get to know her more, she was Daniel’s girlfriend after all and I only knew three things about her; she was a phenomenal cook, she was Italian but spoke perfect English without much of an accent and she seemed to be utterly in love with a man who disregarded her feelings so easily. I manage to catch the eye of the bar tender and order another drink before asking what she would like and she ordered red wine, just like Daniel would have.

“Where is my team-mate tonight?” I was hoping she wouldn’t say they had some kind of argument or fight so we didn’t spend time talking about him but I felt rude not asking. I mean, Elin noted his absence before she left me standing around like a lost lemon. I watched, as she seemed to be trying to come up with a response. Her mouth opening and closing twice before she nervously smiled

“It’s not his thing, I know.” I jumped in to save her. I couldn’t have her thrashing around without a lifejacket could I? Not when she seemed so out of her depth already. “I’m not sure it’s really my thing either…I don’t really know anyone here.” She glanced around after picking up her glass and I noticed the light hitting her eyes in a different way that made them lighten several shades. Whoa, Daniel had really picked a stunner. “It would have been easier if Dan had come but,” She sighed

“I know, he likes keeping things on the down low, incognito.” I tried to provide an out for her again. I was probably talking a lot more about myself than I was talking about Daniel. I mean come on, everyone has seen him at events, he was always centre of attention, life of the party, but if it made her feel more at ease then I was happy to pretend. “I quite like going unnoticed too.” Fuck, Max. Just shut up.

“I think it’s me.” She sighed and tilted her head to the side as if she was conflicted about opening up to me. “I mean, I think he likes keeping me a secret.” “He’s probably protecting you, you’ve only been dating what? A few months?” “Fifteen, nearly sixteen months.” FUCK!

Things were clicking into place a bit more now but still, what the fuck was going on? The first time Daniel mentioned anything to me about having a girlfriend was only two, maybe three months ago at a push. They had actually been dating for fifteen? Over a full year and no one knew? No wonder she looked so crestfallen at that dinner. I had to hold myself back from questioning her about their relationship. I wanted to know more but it wasn’t really my place and I didn’t want to go digging somewhere I had no right to be digging but still, it was definitely strange that was for sure.

17th of September 2020 – Press Day - Marina Bay – Singapore

Max had been waiting for the right time to talk to Daniel. He couldn’t get Alessandra out of his mind since the night of Elin’s launch. Truthfully he didn’t even understand why. He had seen many girls who looked rather haunted or felt alone while in a sea of people but there was this invisible string that just drew him to Ali. It wasn’t as if he wanted to ride in in shining armour on a white horse to come as save her (he wasn’t even sure if she needed saving as such) but he just wanted a better understanding of where they were with each other. He remembered the time before that dinner party when Daniel had actually made him feel jealous he was so in love. Max recalled how he felt rather sick as how Daniel seemed to act like a cartoon character and grew comical heart eyes every time he looked down at his phone. And that had only been two months before him and Elin went for dinner at Daniel’s. He knew from past experience that sometimes relationships could end very quickly and dramatically without warning but this felt like it was different.

He was shown to the little area that P&M had set up for Daniel and him to do some stupid shit for YouTube. He hated these fucking things but it was literally in his contract so he had too. It was only a minute or so until Daniel showed up with a plastered on grin, ready to go. As the cameras were being set up properly, lighting checked and they were getting mic’d up Max figured he should just ask now before they got pulled in different directions for the rest of the afternoon.

“How is Ali? It was nice of her to come to Elin’s thing.” Max watched Daniel intently but he was met by silence to begin with. “Fine, she’s alright.” He took that as a signal Daniel didn’t want to go down this particular path but he was intent on getting just a little more info for his own curiosity. “I don’t know why but I thought you two had only just started seeing each other. She said you’ve been dating for over a year. You should have told me you had a girl, mate.” Daniel took his phone out of his back pocket and answered a text as Max spoke. He only half listened to what he was saying.

“Yeah…” He inhaled a breath through closed teeth “you know what it’s like, as soon as you start introducing them then everyone knows and it just gets” Daniel shrugged. Max knew Daniel was talking shit. He had introduced girls to him, Christian, fuck nearly the whole team after only a few weeks – and those were only girls he was interested in fucking not dating. He could understand exactly what Ali meant now when she expressed she thought Daniel was keeping her a secret. His phone pinged with a text alert, Daniel checking the screen and smiling. Max saw the opportunity and took it, he quipped quickly; “Is that her now, talk of the devil…”

“No, Haylee.” Daniel replied instantly before shoving his phone back into his pocket. And just as Max was about to ask his next question the crew interrupted him, they wanted to get started and that question was left unasked.

💞TAG LIST : @inkfablesandstories @ggaslyp1 @thelightnessofthebeing @nunchuck-daddy @deathmet-al @pleasantducktimetravel @scotlynaurora @squidwardsluverxx @zxlla @anonymitysden @ravena-xx @onelovelife @tita010

191 notes · View notes

spicy-picklez · 1 year

Text

Rainbow after a Storm (P4)

Includes:

Mention of blood, rape, and self harm.

Characters:

Larissa Weems x female reader (principal x student)

Summary:

Larissa and Y/N’s relationship continues to evolve, getting bolder with each conversation. However another accident ends up with you in a place you didn’t want to be.

Word Count:

3.2k

——————————————————————————

As soon as you shut the door to Larissa’s office, you collapse against the corridor walls. You can feel your heart beating through your chest, hot with desire for her. You have no idea what brought on your sudden boldness, but it was worth it for the heavenly moan she let out, making your knees weak.

Regaining your shaking breath, you head back down to the library. Spotting Ajax in the same corner, you quickly slide into the seat next to him. “Y/N!” He exclaims in shock. “Shhhhh!” I say, looking over at Ms Thornhill who thankfully didn’t notice, still busy perusing books in the aisles. “Sorry, what the fuck’s going on Y/N? One minute I’m seeing you in class on Tuesday, happy as Larry. Next you’ve got a bandaged arm, haven’t been in class since Wednesday, moved out of your old dorm and what was all the ‘back’ to Principal Weems’ room about?” Ajax, puts his hand over yours comfortingly. “Y/N, I’m not mad, just really fucking concerned. Whats going on?”

“I was in Jericho on Wednesday when I got raped, when I got back to my dorm, Wednesday was out with Enid so I had the place to myself. I only wanted to hurt myself, because I blame myself for the rape happening again. But I lost control. Next thing I know I’m passing out from blood loss on the floor of my dorm, Lari- sorry, Principal Weems, found me and took me to the hospital. She didn’t feel safe letting me stay in my old dorm especially since she couldn’t ask Wednesday who’s already balancing school life, writing and spending time with Enid, to look after me. So I moved into her room.”

“Sorry rape? Again? Her room?” His head swirling with so many questions. “Yes, I got raped, I knew the guy who raped me. He was the one who raped me for the first time at 7 years old. Her room being Principal Weems’. Which is why I do keep slipping up and calling her Larissa because we agreed first name basis since I’m fully living in her room.” He nods slowly, trying to process the information.

“Righhhhht… so… My dear friend got raped in Jericho by the same person who did it to her when she was 7, self harms and nearly kills herself and now she’s living with our principal… totally normal.” You share a chuckle with him.

“Definitely not normal but yeah nice way of summing it all up.” Glancing down at your phone, 11.56am. “Shit! Larissa’s gonna kill me.” You say, aggressively standing up from your chair and bolting out of the library, finally alerting Ms Thornhill to your presence.

“MISS Y/L/N!” She yells after you as you sprint down the halls. God, why was the library so far away? It begins to get overwhelmingly hot and you rip your jacket off, not realising the zip getting caught on your arm. Wrapping it around your waist, you keep on running both to her office and out of breath. Reaching Larissa’s door, you open it, bolting through. 11.59am. “I made it.” Leaning back against the door, you grin, heavily breathing. You give her a thumbs up with your arm, a sharp electric shock pain emitting from your wounds as you do. Thats when you notice the blood stains seeping through the fabric. “Oh shit.”

Larissa is speechless, one minute mindlessly scrolling through unimportant emails, the next the door banging open to reveal you breathless and bleeding. Her mouth gapes open in shock. Though, she did have to give you props- you were back before 12. A chuckle escapes her as she stands up, walking over to you. “Good girl for making it on time… how about we go clean your arm up though because that doesn’t look particularly nice.” She says, referring to the fact your free hand is held underneath your arm, collecting drips of blood. You weren’t overly listening, you got a bit distracted by her first two words. Good girl… you can feel your legs already shaking. What you didn’t know was that she could too. She smirks, well aware you were blanking out.

“Y/N?” Shit, you just spaced out while staring at her tits.

“Hmm? Oh- yeah… not sure if blood dripping through bandages is too great.” You chuckle, as she looks at you with an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow.

“Not funny darling. We may need to take you back to the hospital.” She says as she places her hands on your hips, guiding you through to your room to grab her keys. The hands on your hips, the darling… oh shit, you can feel yourself hot with desire as you struggle to keep upright. Leaning forward, she whispers in your ear. “Oh darling… are you that desperate for me that you’re almost falling over just from my words?”

You smirk. “Oh and the heavenly moan you let out yesterday just from me saying your name isn’t you being desperate?” She didn’t say anything. “Hmm? Larissa?” You continue, your voice deep and seductive. She stops, wrapping her arms around you, rubbing her face in the crook of your neck.

“Y/N darling…” Her voice coming out in a desperate sigh. Swallowing deeply, she guides you forwards again. “Let’s get your arm tended to at the hospital because this bleeding isn’t stopping. And then we’ll see if my self control is any better because right now the temptation to claim you as my own is growing unbearably strong.”

These words cause you to take a sharp breath. ‘Calm down Y/N.” You repeat in your head, over and over again, trying to ignore the throbbing heat from in between your legs. Getting to the door, she slips past you. “Wait here darling.” You lean against the doorframe as she grabs her purse hanging from the arm of the couch.

Walking back over to you, she takes off her jacket, handing it to you. “Put it on, it’ll stop people asking questions about your arm.” You reluctantly take it, looking up at her. “Its white, incase you haven’t noticed, I’m dripping red blood. Also don’t you think it’ll be a bit suspicious that I’m wearing your jacket?”

“I can get another jacket and I’d rather deal with that then people stopping us asking why you’re dripping blood and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that either. So put the damn thing on and lets go before you bleed to death again.” She says, helping you slip into it before opening the door, letting you walk through. Shutting it behind her, she takes off at a brisk pace, her long legs allowing her to cover ground quickly. You adjust your stride to fit hers as you hurriedly walk to the car.

As you reach her car, she walks ahead, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. As she gets in her side, you chuckle. “Larissa, you know I can open my own doors right?” She starts the car, placing her hand on your knee. “Yes but I’d rather you not. In case you’ve forgotten you are still heavily bleeding, I’d rather not have you die from blood loss in front of me again.” She gives your knee a comforting squeeze, not too sure which of us needed it more.

“Hold on, die? Again? The doctors said I just passed out?” You look at her, confused. In response, she shakes her head. “You died, Y/N. I’m terrified that that’s going to happen. I was terrified enough before… before whatever the fuck you’ve done to me. I’m not losing you Y/N.”

“Riss, I promise you won’t have to. I let myself give up the other day because I didn’t believe that anyone cared about me enough to be affected if I died. I realise now at least you do. I’m not giving up Riss. Not this time.” You place your hand over hers as she says this. “Though you can stop almost flying off the road at most corners. If you insist on going 150km/h, do you want to at least let me drive?”

She looks at you raising an eyebrow. “You’d better shut your mouth before I put you in your place.” You can’t help the smirk pulling at your lips. “And what, my dear, makes you think you could?” The car violently swerves as you say this, making you chuckle. She mutters something intelligible under her breath, readjusting her position in her seat.

A smile spreads across your face as she makes no further comment on your previous statement. Pulling into the hospital carpark, she quickly grabs her things as you both exit the car. “Y/N, stop using your arm.”

You look down, noticing a red stain slowly seeping through her jacket. A nervous laugh escapes you. “Why… is it still bleeding?”

She looks over and lets out a “fuck” under her breath, seeing the first of many drops of blood dripping from her coat. “Let’s go. Now.” She quickens her pace, entering the emergency room a good 10 metres ahead of you. By the time you catch up, the triage nurse is already looking at your arm in shock.

“Jesus fuck Riss, what did you tell her?” You awkwardly say as you’re rushed through the doors and into a room. Taking a seat on the bed, Larissa helps you get your jacket off as a doctor enters the room. “The truth. You had a few wounds restitched the other day and now you’ve bled through 3 bandages and a jacket in the past day and a half.”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds horrific.” You say, wincing as the doctor roughly unwraps the bandages. “Hey, you know you can be a bit gentler with that aye?”

“Sorry about this but you have lost an unusual amount of blood in not a lot of time and this bleeding isn’t stopping. We need to check what’s gone wrong.” The doctor says, the bandage turning a darker shade of red as he unwraps each layer.

“It sounds horrific because it is Y/N. I’m worried about you.” She says, placing her hand on yours as you watch the doctor unwrap the final layer.

“Holy shit.” The doctor curses as blood actively runs from a gash in your arm onto the floor. A gasp is heard from Larissa as she grasps your hand tighter. “That’s not a good holy shit is it?” You already know the answer, not at all surprised when the doctor shakes his head. He presses the emergency button above your bed. “Not at all.” He grabs a sheet off the bed before looking at Larissa. “I hope your prepared to be here for a while. She’s severed a vein and needs surgery. She already should’ve died from the amount she’s lost.” You feel her tense next to you.

“Riss, I told you. I’ll be ok. Like he said, I should’ve already been dead. Clearly, I have things keeping me alive now. Go back to the school and make sure Wednesday doesn’t kill herself or make sure Ms Thornhill doesn’t shove that tree branch further up her ass.” You say, giving her a comforting hand squeeze and a soft smile.

“Y/N, I told you I’m not going anywhere. The school can manage fine without me for the rest of today. I’m not leaving you.” She says as nurses come running in, hooking you up to IV lines as you’re being wheeled out of the room.

You must admit, you don’t remember much after that. Your minds a blur as you lie in the hospital bed, the beeping machines waking you from the anaesthetic. Slowly opening your eyes, you see the sleeping form of Larissa in a makeshift bed next to you. You grab your phone off of the table. 2.32am. Why the fuck is she not getting sleep back at the school? She has work in a matter of hours. Sitting up, you lean over the bed, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. The contact is enough to wake her, her eyes flying wide open as she realises its you.

“Y/N!” She breathes, standing up to come to your bedside. “Riss, no offense, but you look terrible. Go back to the school and sleep, you have work later.” You say, reaching out to hold her hand. She shakes her head. “I asked the teachers to hold everything together, I mentioned a mishap with a student meant I had to stay in the hospital overnight. It’s all sorted.” You relax a bit hearing this. “Well fuck this. Were going back anyways, I don’t wanna stay here with this stupid shit beeping and a needle in my arm. Where’s my nurse at?” You press the call button as you start pulling up the sticky tape holding your IV in. “Can you grab me a tissue please?”

She stares at you in shock, grabbing the tissue. “Y/N, what in the fuck are you thinking?” You fold the tissue up into a small square, placing it on the point where the needle enters you, sliding it out quickly and pressing the tissue down. “I’m thinking that this bed is uncomfortable, I don’t get cuddles, this beeping is pissing me off, and I hate hospital. I know you’re thinking the same and legally they can’t force me to be here so lets get the fuck outta here.”

The door opens as a nurse walks in. “Oh you’re awake, how are you feeling? Do you need any pain meds?” She asks, coming to your bedside. “Nah I’m great, I just want to go back to school and sleep so could I please have my discharge papers?” The nurse matches Larissa’s previous expression as you say this, staring at you with utter shock and disbelief. “You just got out of surgery, are you sure that’s the best idea?” She stumbles over her words as she says this.

“Well I’m feeling fine and I know I’d heal better in a comfortable bed that’s literally anywhere but here. Also you legally can not keep me here so I wish to have my discharge papers so I can head back.” Larissa’s forehead rests in her hand as she rubs her temples as she says this. Knowing she can’t stop you, she just sighs, the nurse doing the same. “Alright, I’ll go talk to your doctor.”

“Fucking hell Y/N. You’re a fucking brat sometimes you know that?” Larissa sighs, shaking her head. “Oh, I was going for all the time… sorry I’ll up it a bit.”

“Don’t do that. You already have detention with me all next week, brats deserved to be punished.” She says, a cheeky smirk pulling at her lips as her voice drips with seduction.

“I think I can handle it.” Your words earn an amused chuckle from her. “Oh my darling, I know you won’t.” Her eyes glinting with desire and lust for you. You sit up, your faces mere inches a part. “Do your worst.” You lean towards her ear as you whisper this.

It’s at this moment that the nurse returns, a handful of papers in hand. Coming over to your bed, she sighs. “Although I’m sure you won’t take much of this into consideration, the doctor highly suggests you wait at least 24 hours after your surgery till you go home but as we all know you’re not going to do that, we need you to sign these papers to say that if anything happens, it was your decision to leave.”

You nod. “Anything, just get me out of here.” She hands you the pen and papers for you to sign. Mindlessly writing in your signature, the doctor takes one sheet for her and gives you the rest of your papers. “Alright, I wish you both the best, and a speedy recovery Y/N.” Eagerly, you get out of bed, Larissa holding your injured hand so you don’t reopen the wounds like you seem to enjoy doing lately. “Thanks for your help.” Larissa smiles at her as you’re already halfway out the room. Leaving the nurse speechless in the room, you both walk down the hallway.

“You know, you shouldn’t even be coherent right now. Yet you’re literally discharging yourself from hospital, are you sure this is the best idea?” Larissa says skeptically as the hospital doors slide open, the fresh winters night air hitting your face. Both of you, now jacketless, walk closer together, her arm around your shoulders as you head towards the car. “Well from a medical point of view, probably not. But I’m not about spend all night on an uncomfortable hospital bed surrounded by beeping machines and screaming patients in agony. I’d much prefer to be asleep in a comfy bed thank you.” She lets a sigh escape her, unlocking the car as it comes into view. “What am I gonna do with you Y/N?” She opens your door as she asks this.

“Whatever you want, Larissa.” You graze your hand over her cheek as you get into the car, giving her a teasing wink. Shutting the door, she lets out a silent groan. “Don’t tempt me Y/N.” She mutters under her breath, knowing exactly what she’d do to you if you did.

Getting in the car, her hand back on your knee like it was on the drive here. She turns the heater on as she reverses out of the park. The drive back was in a comfortable silence, the two of you humming along to songs as they come on.

Pulling into the school grounds, you take one last moment of warmth as the car comes to a stop. Taking a deep breath, you both exit the car. “Agh fuck me, it’s cold.” You exclaim, smoke exiting your mouth with everything word. Larissa just nods, knowing she very gladly would fuck you, pulling you into her as you walk.

You quietly slip through the doors to the school and walk through the familiar corridors to your room, huddling into Larissa for extra warmth. The minute you enter the office, the both of you dash for the next room, needing the warmth of the fire you left going. As soon as you open the door, you can feel the change in temperature, both of your shivering dying down.

Quickly getting changed, Larissa pulls you into bed with her. Lying in each others warm embrace, you let your legs tangle themselves together. Her hand reaches up to stroke your hair as your head rests on her shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re ok darling.” She murmurs, resting her cheek on your head. You pull yourself closer to her, smiling against her soft skin. “I told you, I’ve got you to fight for. I’m not going anywhere, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“You better not.” She whispers and you hum against her skin. You let your eyes close as her warmth envelopes your body. She smiles as you relax against her skin, your snores echoing from behind her ear. “I can’t lose you Y/N.” She whispers, placing a kiss to your forehead as she pulls you closer, closing her eyes.

——————————————————————————

#larissa x reader #larissa weems #principal weems #gwendoline christie #nevermore #forbidden love #forbidden romance

131 notes · View notes