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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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Failed, Faked, Fallen - Harry Styles

a/n: this story was a pain in the ass, not gonna lie and i really thought i would just end up deleting the whole thing but I MADE IT TO THE END YAY so now please take the time to read bc it literally made me want to jump off a cliff lol

special thanks to @pastequeharry for putting up with me throught the writing process, she is the reason i didn’t just delete the whole thing haha

pairing: Fratboy!Harry x Reader (fake dating AU)

word count: 16.6k

masterlist

Tonight has been in the making for ten years. Every fiber in your body is protesting against it, but you just can’t carry this massive secret around any longer. You need to tell your best friend that you are in love with him, have been since middle school when you first met him. It’s a scary thing to come clean about your feelings for someone, but you feel like it’s now or never.

Your friendship with Oliver has been always a little… blurry. You were just regular friends when he was dating someone, but whenever he was single, he seemed to seek comfort and intimacy with you. It always starts with him getting a little more touchy and cuddly with you, then comes the kissing and hugging, his hands wandering to places friends shouldn’t explore and you somehow always end up in a bed…

Then it would immediately change once he got himself a girlfriend and you figured he has just been confused about his feelings for you. It has to be that, right? These past few weeks the situation was the same. He broke up with this girl he was seeing all summer before you all came back to school and you think this is the perfect time to finally talk about what’s really going on between the two of you.

Your roommate, Sandra has helped you with your makeup for tonight’s frat party and now you are deciding on the dress. You want to look your best so when Oliver confesses his love for you tonight, you’ll look as dreamy and pretty as you always dreamed about.

“The black one is fucking mint,” Sandra points at the black bodycon dress lying on your bed. “I can give you my red leather jacket,” she offers, finishing up putting her hoop earrings in.

“The red jacket?” you eye her in surprise. Sandra loves that jacket more than her own life. The two of you have been sharing your clothes since you became roommates last year, but the jacket has been off limits always.

“I know how important tonight is for you. The occasion deserves the red jacket,” she chuckles, stepping to her wardrobe to get the jacket. It’s the most badass leather jacket you’ve ever seen, looks so perfect on Sandra every time she wears, you feel honored she is letting you take it for the day.

“Oliver won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” she smiles at you excited once you’re all dressed. The jacket looks amazing, pulls the look together perfectly, you can’t deny that.

Soon enough, the two of you leave the dorm and head in the way of Kappa Chi, that’s only a fifteen minute walk away from your dorm. They are having a party almost every other week, those boys would celebrate the stupidest shit just to fill their house up with people and booze as much as possible. You and Sandra have been attending their parties since first year, it’s always a great way to unwind after a tiring week at uni.

“When is he coming?” Sandra asks over the music once you two arrive and head to the kitchen for a drink.

“Um, he texted me ten minutes ago that he is about to leave soon. He’ll be here shortly,” you tell her and thank her when she hands you a beer in a red solo cup.

The house is packed, just like always. Most of the football players from school are member of Kappa Chi, so naturally, all girls want to be around when they are throwing a party. You could say they are the popular guys, but it’s not like in the movies. They are just some particularly handsome guys living together, attracting a lot of girls. They are not at all unreachable, you are kind of friends with a few of them as well even without being a sorority girl yourself.

Standing in the kitchen you get into a conversation with a few girls from your dorm, that’s when you see Harry Styles storm through the house, Naomi Saddler following behind him, seemingly very much in the middle of a fight he doesn’t want to take part in. You know Harry, but you couldn’t say you two are that close. You did a group project last year together and he is actually a really smart guy despite the gossips about him just being a dumb womanizer. He surely is a ladies’ favorite, but you wouldn’t say the description fits him. You haven’t actually seen him with more than three girls since freshman year, unlike some of his other teammates that hook up with a different girl every weekend. He and Naomi have been in this on-off relationship for a few months now, but you don’t know much about them. You don’t run in the same groups to know the details.

The two of them disappear upstairs and you are pulled out of your thoughts when someone asks you a question, so you forget about Harry and Naomi in a blink of an eye.

An hour passes and still no sign of Oliver and you start to feel anxious. You shoot him a text, struggling a little with the typing thanks to the alcohol you’ve been consuming to keep your cool. Surprisingly, he answers right away.

Oliver: Be there in 3. Meet me outside?

Y/N: Sure!

“Alright, wish me luck,” you tell Sandra as you fill your cup again and head outside.

Kappa Chi has a nice backyard with a decent sized pool, some beerpong tables and lots of lounge chairs. You walk past the beerpong games, paying no attention to them at all as you go for an empty lounge chair. You sit down, fix your dress nervously and wait while you try to think through what you’ll tell him.

You can’t believe you are finally telling him how you are feeling. Your teenager self would be peeing herself is she knew what you are planning to do now. All those years of pining and crying whenever Oliver had a girlfriend in the past, now is your chance to finally be that girl and you’re actually quite convinced he’ll say he feels the same way about you.

Fidgeting with one of the zippers on Sandra’s jacket, you nervously wait for Oliver to show up. You look in the direction of the backdoor right when he appears from the crowd inside. Your heart skips a beat as you stand up quickly, a smile tugging on your lips. You are just about to wave in his way to catch his attention when you see some brunette by his side… holding his hand. And then she kisses him shortly right before they step out of the house.

What the fuck?! This cannot be true. Who is she? And why do you know nothing about her? Did Oliver keep it a secret that he is dating someone? But why?!

For a moment you actually feel like you are about to faint. Blood rushes out of your head as you see the couple walk their way around the beerpong tables, Oliver obviously looking for you, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

“Y/N! There you are!” he beams happily, pulling the brunette with him when he finally spots you. You need a moment for yourself to get over the first wave of your shock.

“Oh, yeah! Hi!” you smile awkwardly, eyes meeting with the girl’s. She is so pretty and actually seems nice. You hate her for that.

“Y/N, I want you to meet Lexi,” Oliver introduces the brunette. “Lexi, this is Y/N.”

“I’ve heard so much about you, Y/N!” she smiles, pulling you into a hug that catches you off guard for sure.

“Wow, I… wish I could say the same,” you bitterly reply, eyes meeting Oliver’s once Lexi lets go of you. He is clearly uncomfortable at your comment, but tries to mask it quickly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to tell you about Lexi. But it’s kind of new.”

“How new?”

“We’ve been going out for about three weeks,” she answers your question, her hand finding his pretty quickly as she smiles up at him with so much adoration.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out for a moment. You still haven’t completely processed that your plan just went straight out the window and that once again, Oliver chose another girl over you.

But then, the more you think about it, the angrier you get. You are tired of this stupid game you two have been playing, but you also have no idea what to do about it.

“I thought that Y/N, if you have a boyfriend, we could maybe go on some double dates! Would be so much fun!” Lexi suggests, but her words make your stomach churn. You have always wanted to go on double dates, but with Oliver being your date. Not someone else’s…

“I uhh… I don’t…” You are so frozen, you can’t even think of an answer, you just want to leave as soon as possible, so you can cry yourself to sleep. Oliver brings an arm around Lexi’s shoulders, looking down at you as if he wasn’t cuddling you just not that long ago. As if he wasn’t preaching your beauty a few weeks ago, making you feel like the only girl in the world. This is so not fair.

“Y/N is not a fan of double dates.”

Suddenly, an arm swings around your shoulders and a tall body stands next to you, pulling you to his side. Turning your head you are shocked to see Harry standing there, smiling at Oliver and Lexi as if this discussion was completely his business.

Oliver seems just as shocked as you are. He is staring at the football player by your side with wide eyes.

“Wait, you two are… dating?”

“It’s pretty new, but yeah. Y/N and I have been going out for a while. Right, baby?” He squeezes your arm, glancing down at you and when your eyes meet, he gives you a look that says ‘just go with it, I’m saving your ass’ and you decide to play your part.

“Oh, umm, yeah. We’ve kind of reconnected when we got back after the summer,” you nod, hoping that your voice doesn’t give you away.

“That’s amazing!” Lexi cheers, clearly eating up the impromptu lie, but as you glance at Oliver, you can tell he is sceptic.

“I didn’t even know you were friends in the first place,” he comments, eyebrows furrowed a little as he eyes Harry’s hand on your shoulder.

“We were! We had a great time working on a group project last year and then later I asked for her number. But the summer was so busy for both of us, so we kind of fell out, but then we met again in September and I finally manned up to ask her out.”

You are impressed by how easily Harry is lying. If you didn’t know it wasn’t true, you would eat it up just as easily as Lexi is doing right now. Especially because his body language matches up with what he is saying so well. He is keeping you close, fingers dancing on your upper arm and shoulder, anyone would think he actually has a thing for you, but you know that’s not true. You two are barely even friends.

“That sounds so nice. We definitely should meet up sometime, the four of us!” Lexi suggests again and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“We’ll see about that. But I’ll have to steal Y/N away now, I have something to show her.” Harry bids his goodbye quickly, pulling you away before Oliver could even say a thing and you just blindly follow him inside the house.

You don’t even process what’s happening. Harry takes your hand, pulling you through the crowd and you catch Sandra’s gaze who is still standing in the kitchen, her eyes widening when she sees you with Harry. You just shrug in confusion, following Harry upstairs until he leads you into a room that, you assume, is his.

When he shuts the door closed, the noises of the party gets muffled and you look at him with probably the stupidest look ever.

“Alright, let me explain myself,” he breathes out. “I’m sorry if I stepped over some boundaries, I just… I was outside and heard the conversation. Thought I would help you out.”

“But what made you think I needed help?” you ask. The conversation was very innocent for an outsider. He couldn’t know what you were planning to do, so why did he think you needed his help?

Harry gives you a tight-lipped smile, cocking his head to the side.

“Y/N, we might not be close friends, but I’ve seen you around with Oliver. It’s written on your forehead that you have the fattest crush on the guy.”

“What?!” you snap, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Is this really that obvious?!”

“Don’t worry, seems like he is one of the few that don’t seem to notice it. I saw how uncomfortable you were when he introduced the girl. Seemed like you needed the help.”

Nodding you take a few seconds to process everything that just happened. You shouldn’t have drunk that much, because now your brain has to work even harder to put the picture together.

“Alright, but… now they think that we are dating. Lexi will want to meet up with us and it will look stupid if we never even show up again together.”

Harry nods, his lips rolling into his mouth and you know just from his look that there’s more.

“Yeah, about that. I might have had some selfish reasons behind my actions as well.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry walks past you, over to his bed and sits on the edge, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, if you should sit next to him or somewhere else, he has a few beanbags in the corner of his room, but you decide to just keep standing.

“So, I don’t know if you know this but I had this thing with Naomi Saddler.”

“Harry, everyone knows it.”

“Right, yeah,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So the thing is, we have broken up a long time ago, but she keeps coming after me and I’m just so over it. So when we were fighting earlier today I told her that I’m dating someone else so I would appreciate if she left me alone.”

He doesn’t need to say more, you finally see the whole picture. He helped you because he felt sorry for you, but also because he thought it would benefit him as well. You could be his new girlfriend so Naomi would finally let him be. You have to admit, it’s a lucky coincidence, but still, the situation is a little absurd for your liking.

“So… what are we supposed to do now?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Harry looks up at you, seemingly surprised you haven’t snapped at him.

“Well, I know it sounds crazy, but I think we both would benefit from it if we just… pretended to be a couple,” he clears off.

“Like, a real couple?”

“Well, obviously not real, but it would look real to others,” he chuckles, standing up and taking a few steps closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m convinced we could pull it off.”

“We barely know each other.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for that, won’t we?” he asks with a boyish smirk. “Look, we just have to appear together here and there. I’ll pick you up sometimes, we can go for lunch or dinner sometimes, and I’ll get you tickets for some of my games. That’s it. People will see us out together and that’s gonna be perfectly enough. Or do you actually hate me? Now is the time to tell me.”

“I don’t hate you, I don’t know you that well,” you reply with a soft chuckle. “But I’m not convinced enough this is a good idea at all.”

Harry sighs and walks closer until he can rest his hands on your shoulders. You look deep into his green eyes as he smiles at you warmly.

“Let’s make a deal. You can use me as an excuse whenever Oliver and Lexi wants to hang out with you, or if they actually force you to meet them, I’ll go with you so you won’t be the third wheel. And you’ll just have to say that I’m your boyfriend and spend some time with me so Naomi believes I’m dating you. I think it’s a fair deal for the both of us. And you can call it off anytime, I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You chew on your bottom lip, thinking hard to figure out what to do. Judging from this short conversation with Lexi, you’re sure she’ll try to keep you around often, but you are not in the mood to watch Oliver be all lovey-dovey with someone else, so you could actually use a solid excuse, which Harry just offered you on a silver plate. You just have to spend some time with him in exchange and tell people he is your boyfriend. It’s not that horrible and you always thought Harry is nice company, you two just never was in the same friend group to get closer. You can’t really bring up anything against his plan.

“Okay,” you finally nod, Harry’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Really?”

“Why are you so shocked? Your points were valid, I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Yes! Thank you!” he cheers, arms wrapping around you as he hugs you tight in excitement. “I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, you won’t be disappointed!”

You want to say how it’s easy to be the best because you’ve had none so far, but you decide to keep this information to yourself.

“We need to get our story straight though, so we don’t mess it up when someone asks.”

The two of you go over an elaborate timeline of your nonexistent relationship so you’ll be able to tell the same story. It’s the same he told Lexi and Oliver outside, you just agree on the details, like when you started dating, how he asked you out, what you’ve been doing as a couple lately.

When you leave his room a little later you’re still a tad bit shocked where this evening ended up heading. You really thought tonight would be the turning point for you and Oliver, but now you are in a fake relationship with Harry Styles, ready to fool everyone around you.

Walking down the stairs Harry takes your hand and laces your fingers together. You agreed on no kissing on the lips for now, but other touching is allowed, you’re just not used to have someone other than Oliver touch you like this.

“Want another drink?” he asks as the two of you walk into the kitchen. You’ve already caught some wide-eyed look upon your arrival, but you’re trying your best to ignore them.

“I surely need it,” you nod, making Harry chuckle.

Sandra and the other girls are still in the kitchen and she immediately pulls you to the side when Harry lets go of you to get drinks.

“What the fuck?!” she snaps, clearly a little drunk, but not enough to ignore the fact that she has seen you now two times holding Harry’s hand.

“Sandra, don’t freak out, I’ll explain it all when we go home, alright? But… as far as you know, Harry and I are dating.”

“You what? You better fucking tell me everything when we get back to the dorm!” she demands right when Harry appears, two cups in his hands, giving you one of them.

“Here,” he smiles warmly.

“Thank you. Harry, this is Sandra, my roommate.”

“Hi, I think I’ve seen you around, but we just never met.” Harry holds out his now empty hand and Sandra shakes it with a dramatic smile, clearly still confused about the situation.

“Yeah, but I guess we’ll be… seeing each other more?” she implies, telling Harry she knows something is up without using those words.

“Ehm, I guess,” he nods, a little uncomfortable before he turns to you. “Alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Let me know when you want to go back to the dorm.” “Sure,” you nod, Harry squeezes your hand gently before moving away.

Sandra is dying to know what the situation is with Harry, but you don’t really have the chance to talk in the middle of the party, so it’s postponed to later. You and Harry do your own thing through the rest of the night, occasionally interacting whenever you cross paths. When that happens he makes sure to touch your arm or face, have a few words with you so people see that the two of you have a thing going on.

It’s a little past one am when you and Sandra decide it’s time to head home. As promised, you shoot Harry a text that you’re planning to leave and he replies with one saying he’ll meet you outside at the front. By the time you and Sandra step outside, he is already there waiting.

“Ladies, let me walk you home,” he smirks charmingly, offering his arm for the both of you, so this is how you head home: you, Sandra and Harry walking side by side with linked arms.

“Mm, Harry, I hope you know you won’t be spending the night in our room,” Sandra sighs, clearly a little too lost in her drunk thoughts. Harry chuckles, finding it amusing that Sandra is so blunt.

“Weren’t planning to.”

“Good. I’m not gonna listen to you guys have sex all night.”

“Sandra!” you snap at her, gasping. It’s funny how she also believed the little act you and Harry put up tonight.

The walk back to the dorm is short and it’s mostly filled with Sandra’s babbling about whatever catches her attention. Arriving to the building Sandra says her goodbye to Harry, heading up to the room on her own so you can have a minute with Harry.

“I’ve had at least ten people coming up to me tonight, asking about you,” Harry tells you, an excited sparkle in his eyes.

“Really? And what did you tell them?”

“What we agreed on. That you’re my girlfriend.”

“Sounds so weird,” you admit with a chuckle.

“You’ll get used to it,” he nods smiling. “Well, I’m gonna head back. I’ll talk to you later, okay? We’ll discuss the dates and all.”

“Very romantic,” you point out smirking, but Harry just laughs before he gives you a quick hug.

“Good night, Y/N. Or should I say, baby?”

“Bye!” you sing waving in his way as you walk into the building.

It’s no surprise that Sandra is already out when you walk into the room. Her clothes are in a pile next to her bed, but she managed to throw on at least a t-shirt before she passed out. You just smile at her before doing your quick night routine and go to sleep yourself.

“So… you are fake dating Harry, because Oliver introduced you his new girlfriend and also because he is trying to get rid of Naomi? Am I getting this right?”

Sandra narrows her eyes at you over her morning coffee the next day, though it’s already past noon. Waking up was a little painful for the both of you, but especially for her, the two of you decided to treat yourselves for a very late brunch while you tell her everything she needs to know about last night.

“Yeah,” you nod, taking a bite from your waffles. “I know, it sounds stupid, but… it can easily work great for the both of us.”

“I can’t believe he just came up with it. You guys are not even really friends.”

“I know, I was shocked when he appeared all of a sudden and called me baby. Almost fainted,” you chuckle.

“I hope you know you’ll be one of the most envied girls in school if the news spread and I’m sure it will, because even I heard people talking about you and Harry last night.”

“I know, but there’s not much I can do about that,” you shrug.

“I feel like it’s the plotline of some teenage rom-com,” Sandra huffs. “Just be careful, Y/N,” she sighs, finishing off her coffee.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that pretending can easily turn into reality. If you’ll spend so much time with Harry, there’s a chance you’ll develop real feelings for him. Just make sure you won’t end up with a broken heart.”

“That’s silly, I won’t fall for Harry. I…” You cut your words, thoughts wandering over to Oliver right away, and how you felt when he introduced you to Lexi.

“I hope you’re right,” Sandra tells you, stuffing the last bits of her muffin into her mouth.

The weekend flies by fast, you busy yourself with doing laundry and finishing a paper you need to turn in soon. Harry text you on Sunday that he’ll walk you to class on Monday morning and you agree to meet up a little earlier so you can actually talk it all out.

Sandra is still in bed when you leave in the morning. Just as Harry promised, he is waiting for you in front of the building, wearing his usual black skinny jeans and a loose grey shirt and a zip-up hoodie. His curls look untamed, a little all over the place, but it looks good on him. You have to admit, that he is definitely handsome, you understand why so many of the girls at school are after him.

“Good morning, girlfriend,” he smirks, holding out his hand for you that you take, still feeling a little weird about walking around campus hand in hand with him.

“Good morning. How was your weekend?”

“Pretty boring, we had to clean up after the party,” he chuckles. “Wanna grab a coffee?”

“Sounds perfect.”

You swing by the little café that’s on campus before aiming for a bench under one of the pergolas near the main building.

“So, you still haven’t changed your mind,” he speaks up. It’s not a question, more like a comment.

“Not yet,” you chuckle softly, sipping on your cappuccino.

“I meant it that you can tell me whenever you want out. I don’t want to force you into it in any way.”

“I know,” you smile at him. “I’m fine for now. It’s just still a little weird.”

“I know, but I’m kind of happy you are the one I’m doing this with.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know, you seem like a cool person. I actually enjoyed working with you last year on that project, you are funny and smart, I think we’ll get along pretty well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smirks at you, taking a sip from his coffee. “You know, if I’m being honest I never understood why you and that Oliver guy were so close anyway. You’ve known him for a long time?”

“Yeah, met him in middle school and we’ve been friends since then.”

“And how long have you been… you know,” he implies, seemingly very careful not to ask something that would upset you.

“Pretty much ever since I’ve met him,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. It sounds so embarrassing to admit that you’ve been in love with your best friend for so long and never worked up the courage to do something about it.

“You never even tried to tell him?”

“I was too afraid of his reaction. I was planning to come clean at the party finally, but then he arrived with Lexi and… you know the rest.”

“I’m sorry. I know how shitty it is when you have feelings for someone and they don’t feel the same about you.”

“So what’s the situation with you and Naomi then?” you ask, thinking it’s only fair if you also know his story now that you confessed him how ridiculous you’ve been with Oliver all your life.

“We dated at the end of last semester, tried to keep it up in the summer as well, but it didn’t work. It made me realize I don’t even want it to work so I told her that we should just go our separate ways when I got back after the summer, but she wasn’t a fan of my idea.”

“She’s still in love with you?”

“I’m not sure if she ever was,” he truthfully answers. “I think she liked the idea of dating someone more than she liked me.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he smirks at you playfully. “I’m all good. I just wish she could accept that I want to move on. It’s not ideal that I have to fake date someone to get rid of her.”

“She always seemed like a nice girl to me, I wouldn’t have guessed she can be so stubborn.”

“Well, she is a nice girl,” Harry nods. “We were just not compatible on the long run, you know? I couldn’t see it work in the future, so I didn’t want to waste more time on it.”

You just shyly nod, even though you don’t really know about it. You can’t, because you’ve never been in a similar situation. You’ve had a few attempts at dating in high school, but they never turned out the way you wanted and you always ended up pining after Oliver at the end, so you eventually gave up. But you’re not willing to admit that to Harry. It’s pathetic enough that you’ve been so hung up on Oliver your whole life, he doesn’t need to know that you gave up your whole dating life for the wait for him.

“Well, aren’t we a nice pair then? Two ridiculously failed love stories, how tragic,” Harry chuckles softly as he finishes up his coffee and throws the empty cup into the bin next to him.

“Yeah, pathetic,” you agree with a tight-lipped smile.

It takes some time for word to travel, but by the end of the first week of your fake relationship, it becomes a well-known fact that you are indeed dating Harry Styles. You don’t overdo it though, only meeting up once or twice a day, Harry usually walks you to your classes in the morning if he doesn’t have a lecture himself, you’ve had lunch together twice and you went to the library on Thursday together. It’s been pretty casual and you’ve been actually enjoying spending time with Harry, especially because it seems like Oliver has fallen off the face of Earth lately, barely even talking to you.

The more time you spend with Harry the more you realize he is nothing like others try to make him look like. You’ve heard many gossips about him being an empty-headed womanizer, but he is a lot smarter than people assume him to be, but he has proven it before as well. He actually has a great point of view of life and it’s nice to discuss basically anything with him.

Friday brings another party and though you didn’t plan on going, you had Sandra and Harry convincing you this time. Then later Oliver texted you asking if you’d be there and it angered you a little. He barely spoke to you and is now asking if you are coming to the party where he’ll probably keep ignoring you for Lexi. So you told him you and Harry would be there. He didn’t reply to that.

You and Sandra call an Uber, the Omega house is a little farther away from the dorm than the Kappa house. Harry called you to tell you he’d be a little late this time because they are having a double practice today, but he would come and find you when he arrives.

“Isn’t it a little weird you can’t hook up with anyone because of the Harry situation?” Sandra asks as the two of you make your way through the spacious living room, heading to the empty loveseat in the corner.

“As if I did a lot of hooking up before,” you scoff, taking a sip from your drink.

“Okay, but you could be doing it now, but you can’t, because people would think you’re cheating.”

“It’s a good thing then that I’m not into hooking up,” you point out with a shrug. You were never a fan of just hooking up with someone and then move on the next morning, that’s just not for you. It’s not a big deal that you are kind of out of the dating scene because of your arrangement with Harry, you don’t feel like you’re missing out on anything.

The two of you are joined by a few peers from one of Sandra’s classes and you barely even notice when Oliver and Lexi arrive, however, they immediately spot you.

“Y/N! Hi! So good to see you again!” Lexi greets you, pulling you into a completely unnecessary hug.

“Oh, hi. Good to see you too, I guess,” you chuckle awkwardly. Oliver gives you a side hug as well, but it seems like he is not entirely present in his head.

“Where’s Harry?” Oliver questions.

“He’ll be here soon, he just had double practice today,” you tell him and he nods shortly, but something feels off about him.

Lexi makes you come to the kitchen with them so she can get a drink and you can’t really think of a reason why you shouldn’t, so you find yourself listening to her nonstop chatter while Oliver is mixing them something to drink.

Y/N: Harry, SOS! When are you getting here?? I’m stuck with O and L…

You really hope he is somewhere close, because you’re not sure how long you can put up with their company.

“I know last time you said you’re not a fan of double dates, but I really think we should give it a try!” Lexi begs you, she even puts her bottom lip at you and it annoys you how she can’t just leave you to be.

“Yeah, I would love to get to know Harry better,” Oliver chimes in.

“You do?”

Relief washes over you the moment you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you, a moment later you feel his palm on the small of your back and you’re finally rescued. He smells like fresh body wash, he surely just had a shower right before he came here. You let yourself lean into his side, curling an arm around his waist.

“Harry, nice to see you again,” Oliver smiles at him dryly and now you’re sure something is up with him, but what is it?

“Sorry I’m so late. Everything alright?” Harry looks you in the eyes and you know his question is more than just him being nice. He wants to know if Oliver and Lexi has driven you up the walls.

“I’m… fine, yeah,” you nod and he holds your gaze for another moment before nodding to himself.

“We were just talking about how amazing a double date would be. I’m sure you could convince Y/N to come, right?” Lexi smiles at Harry and you catch a small frown on his face before he returns the smile to Lexi. You find it funny, but you push down your laugh.

“Um, not sure. Y/N always has a strong will, not sure I want to go against it.”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!”

“Y/N doesn’t like PDA, I’m sure double dating is a lot for her,” Oliver comments and your eyebrows shoot up at his words.

“How would you know if I disliked PDA?”

He has no valid information about it. He wouldn’t know, because the only person you ever wanted to get touchy and lovey in public was him, but he only let you get physically close to him when no one was around. When he felt like he needed someone in his bed so he didn’t feel too alone. When he let his hands roam your body under the blanket when you were watching a movie. He never let it happen with others around though, so how would he even know what you like? Hell, even you don’t know it…

Oliver’s eyes meet yours and it’s clear that your question caught him off guard.

“You told me,” he simply answers.

“I don’t remember,” you retort, not letting him get away with it this time.

“This is how you’ve always been.” He is clearly pissed that you are going against him.

“You know what? Let’s do a double date next weekend, alright? But we have somewhere to be now, if you’ll excuse us,” Harry cuts in, taking your hand as he pulls you away from the happy couple. You glance back at Oliver one last time before turning around.

Harry walks you out to the backyard and the cool air hits you hard in the head. You haven’t even realized how hot you were getting in there, but you’re not entirely sure it was because of all the people, rather of because Oliver’s behavior.

“Okay, what the fuck was that in there?” Harry questions.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m not dumb or blind. Lexi might be oblivious to whatever you and Oliver have going on, but I’m not. Something has happened between you and him, right?”

You chew on your bottom lip, crossing your arms on your chest, not too keen on admitting it. You have never told anyone about it in details, not even Sandra. She knows you and Oliver get a little too close at times, but she has no idea you’ve slept with him on several occasions. You always thought you were a fool for sleeping with him and then watching him date other girls.

Unfortunately, your silence is enough for Harry to draw his conclusion.

“Wait, what? Did you two…?”

“Yes,” you shortly nod, feeling uncomfortable, but you can tell you can’t dodge this conversation this time.

“You’re telling me he has the nerve to sleep with you whenever it’s convenient for him and then drop you when he starts dating someone else?”

“It sounds worse than how it really is,” you mumble, but you don’t truly believe your own words. It’s pretty bad either way.

“Y/N, this is fucked up. A friend wouldn’t do that to you. It’s one thing to seek comfort at your friends, but using them for your own physical needs is just way beyond the line.”

You have nothing to say. Deep down you know he is right, you’ve always known, but you never knew what to do against it. Before you could even stop yourself, you feel your lips trembling, tears bubbling in your eyes as you glance at Harry. You expect pity from him, an act that tells you that you brought it all to yourself, but that’s not what you see. He gives you an apologetic look and he is quick to pull you into a tight hug, exactly what you need right now.

“I know, I’m so stupid,” you mumble into his chest.

“You’re not. He is just an ass,” he corrects you, earning a small chuckle from you. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asks, pulling back so he can look into your eyes.

“You just got here.”

“Yeah, but I’m not really in the mood to party. Want to have a bite somewhere?”

“That would be… great,” you nod with a small smile, sniffling a little before you wipe your cheeks.

You let Sandra know you’re leaving with Harry and she can tell something has happened, but you just tell her you’ll talk later and she doesn’t push it further. Harry takes your hand as the two of you make your way through the people and you spot Oliver near the kitchen, one arm around Lexi’s shoulders as his gaze meets yours. You see him clenching his jaw when he sees your hand in Harry’s hold, but you don’t pay much attention to him, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

Luckily Harry drove to the Omega house so now you don’t have to wait for a car or take a long walk, you can enjoy the comfort of his Rover as the two of you leave the party behind. It’s silent in the car, you fold your arms over your chest, your head resting against the car door, not even questioning him where you are headed.

About ten minutes later Harry pulls up at a little diner, the two of you walk in and it’s not surprising there are just a few people lingering around at this time, though you know later they’ll have quite a few drunk students that are on their way home and in desperate need of a late night bite.

You take an empty booth and a waitress arrives immediately, handing you each a menu.

“Do you go here often?” you ask quietly, eyeing the options.

“Sometimes. They have great fries.”

You nod and decide to have just a cheeseburger with fries and a lemonade while Harry gets the veggie burger and a milkshake. The waiter takes the order shortly and leaves you alone. You’re not sure what to say, but you feel like you need to say something.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, staring down at your arms laying on the edge of the table, your right hand covering your left.

“For what exactly?”

“For… I just feel so stupid about this whole… Oliver thing. I know I shouldn’t have done what we did, but I just… couldn’t say no. I know, sounds ridiculous.”

“No, not at all,” Harry shakes his head. “You fell for him and he used you. If there’s anyone to blame it’s him, he shouldn’t use a friend for his own selfish needs. I’m not judging you, it’s easy to fall into holes like this.”

“I just really thought that he came to me because I meant something for him, but I can tell that… it wasn’t anything like that. The way he acted today was shockingly sobering,” you chuckle bitterly. “I think he is mad that I’m not available for him anymore and he is trying to play us down,” you say pointing at him and yourself. “So when he breaks it off with Lexi he can count on me, but it’s not happening.”

“I am happy to help you teach him any kind of lesson,” Harry grins just as the waiter arrives with the food and you start the feast. “I know you despise the idea of going on a double date with them, but I think we could have a lot of fun,” Harry points out while eating.

“How?”

“It’s obviously bugging Oliver that you are dating someone, we could give him the extra happy couple act, make him question why he was always such an asshole to you.”

“You think it would bother him?”

“Absolutely,” he chuckles. “We would serve him all the sappy, lovey couple shit from movies and get under his skin. I think it would be fun.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” you nod and Harry grins at you from across the table.

“Yes! Fake dating on maximum level!” he cheers, punching into the air, making you laugh.

As the two of you eat Harry talks your ears off and you know exactly why he just keeps on talking. He wants to take your mind away from everything about Oliver and he succeeds. He tells you stories about what it’s like to live in the frat house, all the funny things they’ve done with the boys and you just keep laughing and laughing until all the food is gone, the table is cleared off and it’s nearing one in the morning. Just as you expected, people from around the campus start dropping by for their midnight bite so the two of you slowly head out, not really wanting to run into someone you know. Harry drives you back to the dormitory and walks you up to the entrance.

“Thank you for tonight,” you breathe out, still feeling a little helpless and pathetic, but he definitely made it better with his company.

“No worries. After all, this is what boyfriends are for,” he chuckles lightly. “But I hope you are not gonna sink into self-pity over that douche.”

“Just a little?” you peek up at him with a scowl.

“Nope, not even a little, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your time. If he is really gonna let you slip through his fingers, he is the biggest idiot on Earth. And he also has to be blind.”

For some reason, Harry’s words bring a blush to your cheeks, even if there’s a chance he doesn’t really mean them.

“Thank you,” you breathe out and he pulls you in for a hug without hesitation. You wrap your arms around his waist and inhale his sweet scent, melting into his warm embrace before you force yourself to let your arms fall from around his frame.

“Have a good rest of your weekend, girlfriend,” he smirks, backing towards his car. “I’ll see you on Monday!”

“Bye Harry!” you smile in his way before making your way inside.

Not too willingly, but you talk to Oliver the next week about the double date. He sounds clearly surprised that you brought it up yourself and he tries to talk you down, but you’re now way too curious about what would go down, so he has no choice than to say yes. You fix the date to Saturday and Harry says it’s fine for him and that the two of you can go over to the frat house later, they are gonna have a small get together for one of the guys’ birthday. Not a party, more of a beer and pizza type of evening since Clyde, the birthday boy is not that big of a party animal.

The week passes by as usual, you spend some time with Sandra and a little more with Harry. Since you’ve started this whole dating thing, you’ve found yourself getting used to have him around. It doesn’t feel forced anymore, you actually like hanging out with him, have him beside you in the library even if you’re not even talking and whenever you spot him waiting for you in the morning or after one of your classes, you have this stupid smile on your face walking up to him, especially when he calls you girlfriend. Sandra’s warning words pop up in your head time to time, telling you to be careful with having actual feelings for Harry, but you keep telling yourself the two of you are nothing else than just good friends.

Saturday morning you get your nails done with Sandra, have some much needed girly time since you’ve had little of that lately, even a fake relationship needs a lot of time and energy, if you’re being honest.

Sandra catches you smiling down at a text that’s from Harry, he just joked about wearing a tux to the roller-skating rink and you imagined it right away, the picture of everyone else dressed casually while he is dressed for a royal ball is just hilarious.

“So how are things with Harry?” she asks from the chair next to you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyes fixed on your nails as the lady is carefully painting them a light pink color.

“You two are like glued together.”

“Yeah, I like spending time with him. And like, we are dating,” you smirk, finding it funny to just casually say it.

“You do know you don’t have to keep the act up with me, right?”

“I know, but we really are friends,” you nod.

“Just friends? Because sometimes being friends with someone is a bit more to you,” she comments and your face falls. She right away realizes it was a little harsh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean to be a bitch. I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t want to see another guy taking advantage of you.”

“He is already taking advantage of me in a way, but it’s mutual,” you shrug, trying to mask the fact how much her words hurt. You’re still trying to get over the whole Oliver thing and though it’s been easier with Harry around, you still feel hurt over how badly he has been using you in the past years.

“And… you don’t have feelings for him?”

“We’re friends,” you tell her again.

“Yes, but you can have feelings for a friend too, Y/N.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. We are doing fine, I enjoy being with him, that’s all.”

“Alright, I believe you. Just want to make sure you are not getting yourself into another Oliver situation.”

“I’m not. Harry is not him,” you firmly state and it’s the truth. Even if things go south with him, you can never see him do the things Oliver did. He is not him in the best possible way.

For the double date you choose to wear your favorite pair of light-washed mom jeans with a tank top tucked into it and a colorful cardigan under your jacket. Harry texted you that he would pick you up at six and because you are ready by half past five, you sit around in your room a little anxiously. You honestly have no idea what’s gonna happen tonight, where it’s gonna head but you can only hope it won’t be scandalous. People already talk enough about you for dating Harry, you don’t need to be known about being the girl who made a scene at the roller-skating rink with her boyfriend and best friend. It wouldn’t do good to your reputation.

When Harry finally texts you letting you know he has arrived you rush down the stairs, still haven’t been able to shake your nerves off, but as soon as you spot him standing by his car, you kind of forget about everything else. He is wearing his usual skinny jeans with a black shirt, of course, the first few buttons left undone. His hair is getting longer, curls constantly falling into his forehead, but you love it. Makes him look soft and like… like a prince.

“Hey, ready to have fun?” he smirks at you, opening the door to the passenger seat to you.

“I don’t think I will ever be ready for this kind of fun,” you admit with a soft chuckle before getting into the car.

“I’ll be right there with you, okay? We’re gonna crush them,” he grins at you driving. “And we can just leave whenever you want to.” Reaching over the console he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. The gesture sends a shiver running down your spine. It feels so good to have his support, you wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else than him.

Oliver and Lexi are already at the arcade that’s connected with the skating place when the two of you arrive. She looks ecstatic about tonight and it’s almost kind of cute, you’re convinced you’d actually be friends with her if the two of you met under different circumstances.

“Hi! Thank you so much for coming! I know it’s not really your thing, but I’m so happy we can finally hang out!” she cheers, giving you a hug. Oliver and Harry shake hands and Harry gives Lexi a short hug while you just awkwardly nod in Oliver’s direction, already feeling anxious in his presence. Harry takes your hand walking in and squeezes it gently. Peeking up at him he gifts you with a warm smile that tells you: it’s gonna be alright, I’m here with you.

Once all four of you have changed your shoes to your skates and put your belongings to the lockers you head to the rink, you and Lexi in the middle, Harry on your other side while Oliver is on Lexi’s other side.

“Y/N, Oliver has told me a lot about you. What was it like, growing up with him?” Lexi asks as the four of you roll around. You’re not the worst at roller-skating, you can move confidently, but it seems like Harry is the best out of all of you, easily moving around, as if he were on his feet.

Thinking back at your time with Oliver now at Lexi’s question, it’s quite bittersweet. Because you are starting to realize things you didn’t see back then. Like how you were always in his shadow, he was always the guy everyone liked and you were just the girl that tagged along.

“Um, not sure what you want to know about,” you chuckle awkwardly as you watch Harry throw his ball for the first time.

“Was he a womanizer? Tell me the truth! He says he barely dated a few people,” she chuckles, taking Oliver’s hand. He is pretty much avoiding to look you in the eyes as you glance over him and you really wish she didn’t ask you about it.

“He had quite a few… flings,” you say, not entirely sure how to phrase it. He wasn’t a womanizer, but he did start to hook up with you between girls a while ago, making his reputation a little questionable.

“I knew you were downplaying it!” she playfully smacks his chest and you just bite into your bottom lip. This is already so awkward.

“I think Y/N is just exaggerating,” Oliver chimes in, seemingly not a fan of the conversation either.

“Sure, it’s always me,” you mumble under your breath.

Harry takes your hand and gets a little ahead of you before turning around so he is facing you while skating backwards.

“Hey baby, want me to teach you how to go in zig-zag?” he smirks, clearly wanting to ease the tension. Nodding you let him take both of your hands as the two of you stay a little back from Oliver and Lexi. “Don’t let him get under your skin. He is a fucking asshole,” he tells you when he knows they can’t hear him.

“Was he always like this? I have no idea how I could put up with his act,” you mumble with a scowl.

“Fuck them. Come on, let’s have a good time,” he grins before taking the lead.

Harry makes your forget about them so easily, like it’s not even a double date, just the two of you hanging out. He keeps teaching you moves, laughing together whenever you get wobbly. He catches you every time when you’re about to lose your balance, he doesn’t let you fall and every time his arms circle around you, keeping you on your feet steadily, you find yourself blushing at how close he is getting to you. His hands holding yours, small touches on your arms and back, he takes every chance to connect the two of you and you enjoy every second of it.

“Harry, no!” you laugh as he holds your hand, still going around.

“Come on! Just try it! Just a little jump!” he encourages.

“Do you want to see me fall?”

“I would have let you fall a long time ago if that’s what I wanted,” he smirks. He gets ahead of you again, both his hands taking yours and you still can’t get used to how soothing his palms feel against yours. “I’ll catch you this time too, don’t worry.”

“I swear you are trying to kill me,” you groan as you try to figure out how to do a little jump without breaking a bone. “But just a little one!”

“The tiniest one,” he chuckles nodding.

You let him take the lead and he starts pulling you again, skating backwards like he did all evening and when you feel like you’re stable enough, you give it a go.

Unfortunately, what happens is exactly what you were expecting. When your skates meet with the floor again after the little jump, you don’t find your balance and immediately feel your feet rolling out from under yourself. Harry reaches out for you, just like he promised, grabbing onto your arm with one hand while the other one presses into your back, but this time he can’t save you and you pull him with yourself as well. The two of you end up falling to the ground in a laughing mess as Harry is partially lying on you, an arm stuck under you while the other one is across your chest.

“I told you!” you cry out but it turns into laughter pretty fast.

“I’m sorry, baby, are you okay?” he asks laughing and your heart skips a beat at how he called you baby again and Oliver is not even around.

“I-I’m fine,” you breathe out as he peels himself off you, helping you up with him as well. He is so close to you as you finally stand on your feet again, your noses almost brush against each other as you blink up at him nervously.

It would be so easy to kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to feel his lips against yours. Maybe if you move just a little…

“Are you trying to break a bone, Y/N?” Lexi rolls up to you, totally breaking the moment as you both turn to her. Harry leaves an arm around you, hand resting on your waist and you lean against him to steady yourself on your wheels.

“It was Harry’s idea, but I knew I would terribly fail,” you chuckle slightly. Oliver appears behind Lexi, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and you clench your jaw at the gesture. Harry must have noticed the shift in you, because he tightens his hold around you, his hand soothingly running up and down your side. And just like that, Oliver is long forgotten, you can only think about how it feels to have his fingers dancing on you.

“You were never really into athletic things, Y/N,” Oliver comments and you grimace.

“Just because I didn’t play any sports in high school, doesn’t mean I can’t try things now.”

“I think you did great,” Harry smiles down at you. “You just need a little more practice and you’ll be better than me, baby.”

Baby, there’s that pet name again. It’s doing things to you for sure.

Glancing over at Oliver you catch what looks like an eye-rolling and he genuinely looks annoyed by you and Harry and it’s making your blood boil at this point. Why can he be the only one to date someone? Why can’t you have a good time with someone? Now that you are thinking about it, he did it not only with guys, but also with anyone who tried to be friends with you. Oliver wanted him to be your only friend and sneakily ruined every friendship you ever had. Sandra is your first real friend other than Oliver, only because he couldn’t do anything against you forming any kind of relationship with your roommate. But you are now getting quite fed up with his little games and Harry might not be your real boyfriend, but you are friends with him and Oliver can do nothing about that.

Soon enough you decide you’ve had enough of the skating, so you move to the side and start changing back to your shoes. Lexi runs out to the restroom and while you are putting your sneakers back on Harry spots someone he knows, working at the buffet so he steps aside for a minute, leaving you and Oliver alone.

“Are you really dating him?” you hear him speak up and you can’t help the scowl on your face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He is just so not the type of person you hang out with,” he comments with a shrug and your eyebrows shoot up.

“First of all, how would you know? My friends were always kind of more your friends, never really had the chance to find my people. And second, what’s the problem with him?”

“The problem is that we all know what he is like. Everyone on campus knows that Harry is famous for going after a lot of girls.”

“And you believe what others say? You know nothing about him. He is not what people try to make him appear to be, but you wouldn’t know, because you don’t know him like I do. And for the record, yes, I really am dating him and I’m very happy about it.”

You can tell he doesn’t like your reaction and he is probably fighting back to snap at you, but Harry soon returns, oblivious to the scene that just went down, however he can sense the shift in the atmosphere immediately.

“Everything alright?” he asks, seemingly innocently, but you know he is asking if Oliver has done something.

“Yeah. Can we leave?” you ask, not too keen on staying with Oliver any longer. It’s getting hard to imagine how you could ever put up with him and his act.

“Are you guys leaving? We could grab a bite together!” Lexi chimes in arriving back from the restroom. You are about to decline, but Harry speaks up before you.

“Oh, we have plans already, but maybe some other time,” he politely says, a hand on your lower back as he pulls you to his side and you’re thankful for his close presence now. If he weren’t there, you would have already jumped at Oliver’s throat probably.

“Oh, okay! I’m glad we got to do this though,” she smiles warmly, taking Oliver’s hand while you just chew on the inside of your cheeks, very keen on leaving as soon as possible.

Your force a smile on your face, bidding goodbye before Harry takes your hand and the two of you head out to his car.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asks when it’s finally just the two of you. Staring down at your hands on your lap, you bite into your bottom lip.

“Just… let’s leave. I had enough of Oliver for a life today,” you mumble and luckily, Harry doesn’t try to keep asking around, just starts the car and leaves.

On the way he asks if you still want to come over to the frat house and you say yes, because you feel like you could use the distraction. You’d rather spend some more time around him than go back to your dorm room and be alone with your thoughts.

Just as he promised, it’s nothing big, just a few close friends of some of the frat boys, pizza boxes are piled in the kitchen, music is playing in the background but it’s not blasting like when it’s a party. A big group is playing UNO in the living room using two deck of cards so the rounds don’t end too soon.

You and Harry get a slice of pizza, already starving after the skating and when you’re done with that, the two of you wander into the living room. There’s no more room left on the mismatched couches so Harry plops himself down to the ground and you stop for a moment, because there’s someone sitting on both of his sides, leaving not much space for you, but he is quick to solve the problem by taking your hand and pulling you down so you sit between his legs, your back pressed against his chest.

“Oh,” you breathe out from the sudden contact, but it feels nice. You cross your legs so his legs can bridge over them with his knees bent as he looks over your shoulders to see the game unfold.

“You guys want to play?” one of the girls asks.

“There’s not enough cards for the both of them to join!” another warns.

“We’ll just play together,” Harry speaks up from behind you and in the next round you join the game.

Harry rests his chin on your shoulder as his arms come around you, holding the cards so you can see them as well. It’s the closest he has been to you, basically wrapped around you and it’s definitely doing things to you. The way his chest warms your back, how you can feel every breath he draws because his face is so close next to yours, how his arms cage you gently, you are suddenly aware of even the smallest things.

“Pick one,” he murmurs when it’s your turn to throw a card in. You’ve been so occupied with him that you have no idea what color or number you should pick so you quickly check the deck in the middle before pointing at a red card. “Throw it in,” he tells you, pushing the card up with his thumb so you can take it and put it to the top.

Sitting here, on the floor of his frat house, his arms around you feels so much better than anything you’ve experienced with Oliver and the realization hits you hard in the chest. Turning your head to the side you let yourself take a good look at his perfect side profile, his chiseled jawline, the bridge of his nose and the little wrinkle between his eyebrows as he knits them together in focus, staring down at the cards in his hands. He catches you looking, his green eyes meet yours and a soft smile spreads across his face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head.

“Everything alright?” he quietly asks and you nod.

“Yeah,” you breathe out turning back, but you still feel his lingering gaze on you for a few more moments before he turns away too.

You keep playing as the night moves on, drinking some beer, making you relax even more, though Harry’s closeness does the job just perfectly. Even when you are not sitting on the ground anymore, he always keeps close to you. Curling an arm around your waist when you stand in the kitchen talking with others, he keeps giving your hands and hips assuring little squeezes and you can’t help but lean into his touch every time. You want him close, you want to feel his touch, you love it when your eyes meet and he always shoots you a small smile, it makes your heart flutter, like you’re a little school girl with a silly crush.

Because now you are more than sure that you’re crushing on Harry. How can you not? He has been so good to you, did more than Oliver has ever done and you’ve been friends for just a few weeks.

You leave him for just a few minutes while you use the bathroom and as you return, you catch some of the conversation he is having with one of the boys, Jake.

“Dude, can’t believe the ladies’ favorite Styles is taken,” Jake laughs and it makes you scowl as you stop at the corner, listening on them.

“Jake, I told you to stop calling me that,” Harry huffs.

“I’m just telling you the truth. Every girl on campus is after you.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with me being in a relationship.”

“I just thought that the womanizer Harry Styles wouldn’t settle again for a while.”

“Jake, I’m not a womanizer, stop this bullshit. Just because girls try to get together with me, doesn’t mean I want the same thing.”

You choose this moment to walk in, knowing well Harry must be losing his patience with Jake and his irrelevant accusations. Walking in you smile warmly at Harry, curling an arm around his waist as you lean into his side. His arm comes around your shoulders and he pulls you close. Jake eyes you with an unreadable expression before his gaze returns to Harry.

“Hope you know what you are doing, mate.”

“I surely do,” Harry firmly answers and it makes you smile, especially because you know what they’ve been talking about.

When Jake walks out you turn to face Harry, playfully poking his tummy as you glance up at him.

“Hey,” you smile up at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as his hands fall to your shoulders.

“Hey,” he chuckles. “Why are you so smiley?”

“I can’t smile?”

“Of course you can,” he smirks. “Want to go back a little more?” he asks nodding towards the living room where there are still quite a few people. You nod and let go of him, turning around you are just about to walk ahead but you didn’t see that a girl was coming inside and you bump right into her, the liquid from her cup spilling down your shirt.

“Shit!” you gasp jumping back, colliding a little with Harry’s chest and his hands immediately grab your waist in case you might lose your balance.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” the girl stutters, reaching for paper towels right away, but it helps nearly nothing.

“It’s fine,” you breathe out pressing your lips together.

“Come on, I’ll give you a shirt,” Harry tells you, taking your hand, walking you upstairs. The fabric of your shirt is turning cold against your skin and you really want to get rid of it.

Harry pulls out a simple black shirt for you and shows you the way to his little bathroom. Changing into his shirt you make an attempt to wash yours out, but it doesn’t do much to the sugary spill.

“Do you mind if I stay in it for the rest of the evening? I promise I’ll give it back next time we meet.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles and you catch his gaze wandering down your body, his shirt hanging loosely on your frame. “Do you still want to stay or do you want me to give you a ride back to the dorm?”

“Uh, maybe I should head home,” you nod to yourself.

“Is it okay if I take a quick shower? I feel so sweaty after the skating, just five minutes.”

“Sure, go ahead,” you nod smiling before he disappears in the bathroom.

You hear him turn the water on and walking over to his bed you lie down for a little, feeling the tiredness coming over you all at once. It’s been a long and exhausting day and listening to the soothing voice of the running water you find yourself drifting off to sleep before you could stop yourself.

When you open your eyes again the room is completely dark, but you quickly realize it’s not your dorm room; you’re still at Harry’s. Turning to the side you see him sleeping peacefully on the other side of the mattress, lying on his back. Still groggy with sleep, you realize you fell asleep while he was in the shower and he probably didn’t want to wake you so just went to bed next to you.

He looks like an angel sleeping, his green irises hidden from the world, thick lashes fanned over his cheeks, his pink lips slightly parted as his chest rises and falls peacefully. Sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes, seeing him next to you, he is all you can think about and it brings a smile to your face.

Gently, you scoot closer to him, but still don’t touch him, however the movement makes him huff in his sleep and turning to his side his arm falls across your waist, making you gasp in surprise. You freeze, thinking that he might wake up any moment but it doesn’t happen and you’re stuck in his hold, not that you mind it. You push yourself a little closer, your nose almost touching his chest as you make yourself comfortable and closing your eyes you go back to sleep without a worry in the world.

Waking up you find yourself curled up to Harry’s side, one of his army around you while the other is holding your hand on his stomach. Blinking your eyes open you look around and take a few seconds to fully wake up. Harry feels so warm against you, but you think he might not like to find you all melted against him so you try to move away but his hold tightens around you.

“Mmm, stop movin’ around,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Sorry, I just thought that… you might feel hot,” you lie in a whisper.

“I am hot,” he smirks with his eyes still closed and his comment makes you laugh.

“And so full of yourself!” you chuckle and try to pull away once again, but he locks you to his side, not letting you break the position you are in.

“I said stop movin’! I like being warm in the morning,” he murmurs, snuggling you more to his side and you bite into your bottom lip as your smile stretches wider with each passing second.

Yeah, you definitely have a crush on Harry and you can’t even act like you don’t.

“Sorry for falling asleep in your bed,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you let your head rest on his chest.

“Y’ looked cute,” he huffs with a soft smile. “S’alright. Give me five minutes and I’ll be awake to drive you back to the dorm.”

You hum a response and just enjoy it while it lasts, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. But you have to. Slowly, the two of you get ready to leave, you want to change back to your stained shirt, but Harry tells you to just keep the shirt, he has two more of the exact same one so you walk out of the frat house wearing Harry’s shirt, holding Harry’s hand and get into Harry’s car. He is everywhere and you absolutely love it.

“So we have this game next weekend and I thought you might want to come? You don’t have to if you absolutely hate football, I just thought—“

“I would love to,” you say cutting his rambling short as he smiles with his eyes staring ahead at the road.

“Cool. Bring your roommate if you want.”

“Sure,” you smile.

Football has never been your thing, but watching Harry is, so the game turns out better than you expected. Sandra tags along and luckily, she knows a little more about the game than you do, so you can ask her questions whenever you are completely lost about the happenings. Though you don’t know much about what a good player should be like, but it’s still clear to you that Harry is one of them. He scores half the points of his team and you are guessing that’s quite fascinating.

“Am I just dreaming or does he keep looking your way?” Sandra questions after you also just caught Harry’s gaze on you a moment ago.

“So what if he is?” you ask with a shy smile, eyes glued to his running frame on the field.

“Are you guys like… really together?”

“No,” you shake your head. “We are just friends,” you add, the term tasting a little bitter on your tongue.

“But you want more.” It’s not a question, Sandra can see right through you. Glancing at her you let out a huff before turning back at the game.

“It’s hard not to,” you truthfully admit, your eyes following Harry’s every movement on the field. Looking around you see that you are probably not the only one. Half of the girls on the bleachers are staring at him and you can’t even blame them. You have to be blind and stupid at the same time not to like him and apparently, you’re neither.

They win, no surprise. The whole team goes crazy as they score their last point and it puts them in the lead in the last minute. Everyone is cheering and screaming at the boys as they are celebrating their victory, along with Harry.

Jake starts running up and down the bleachers shouting that they are throwing a victory party at the frat house so now you know what you’re gonna do for the rest of the evening. As the team makes its way back towards the locker rooms Harry runs up to you, all sweaty and grinning crazily.

“Hey, you coming for the party, right?” he asks, still breathing heavily from the game.

“Sure,” you chuckle.

“Yes! You guys want a ride?” he asks in excitement glancing at Sandra beside you.

“That would be nice,” she nods happily.

“Alright, meet me at my car in fifteen,” he breathes out and before he runs away, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, then leaves in a rush, catching up with the other guys. Suddenly, it feels a lot hotter than before…

“Okay, there’s no way he is not into you too,” Sandra mumbles to you as the two of you head out to the parking lot.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” she laughs, folding her arms on her chest. “That guy is like a puppy in love around you.”

“What if it’s just his normal?”

“I don’t know, is it? You’re the one who spends every possible minute with him,” she points out and she is right. This wasn’t like this before and as far as you know, he was never like this with anyone either. The only person you saw him act similarly was Naomi when they were dating, so could this be a hint for you that he feels the same way?

You’re still chewing on it when Harry emerges from the building, carrying his huge sports bag on his shoulder, his locks still wet from the shower he must have taken, his smile is still as wide as it was after the game.

“Ladies, fancy a ride?” he asks and as he walks past you he squeezes your hand gently before rounding the car and sitting behind the wheel.

By the time you arrive to the frat house the party is already on, music blasting in the living room where not so long ago you were playing UNO, sitting in Harry’s arms, booze is piling in the kitchen and more and more people are showing up.

“Hey, can you come up with me to drop my bag off and change?” Harry asks upon walking into the house and you nod. Sandra gives you a look that says ‘man up and talk to him’ before you take Harry’s hand and the two of you head upstairs.

“Be honest, did you bore yourself to death at the game?” Harry asks when you’re in the safety of his room.

“It wasn’t that bad, though I definitely need to learn more about the rules,” you chuckle admitting as you sit on the edge of his bed while he moves around, putting away his stuff. You watch him with a fluttering heart as you think about your conversation with Sandra. Even if she is right, how do you bring it up? You can’t just simply drop that you would like to turn your fake relationship into something real, you are not ballsy enough for that anyway.

“I’ll change quickly and we can head out,” he smiles, grabbing his usual skinny jeans and a white shirt from his dresser before disappearing in his bathroom.

While he is in there, you try to build your courage up to have the talk with him. Now seems like a good time, you’re alone in his room, no audience in case he rejects you painfully so no one would witness your breakdown. Chewing on the inside of your cheeks you stand up and start pacing the floor, stopping when the door opens and he walks out, smiling at you warmly as he fixes the dog tag around his neck.

“Everything alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“I, uhh… I wanted to talk about something,” you start shyly, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“Okay, go for it,” he nods walking closer.

“I just, I’M not sure how to bring this up, and I hope it won’t sound weird. But I’ve been thinking about, um—I thought about this, what we’ve been doing and I realized that I—“

Your rambling speech gets interrupted when Jake bursts into the room without even a knock or warning word.

“Dude, come down! We need you on our beerpong team!” he urges Harry who gives him an annoyed look.

“Jake, don’t just fucking barge into my room without knocking!” Harry snaps at him.

“Like I haven’t seen your dick before,” Jake snorts and you feel the heat crawling up your neck at even just the thought of Harry naked.

“I don’t fucking care, knock!”

“Okay!” Jake growls rolling his eyes. “But you gotta come down now!”

Harry looks back at you, knowing well you two were in the middle of a conversation, but Jake’s arrival threw you off completely.

“Go, we can… talk later, it’s not that important,” you smile at him weakly.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his hand taking yours.

“Yeah, totally. Just go and celebrate your win,” you chuckle and with that, the moment is already gone.

You return to the party and while Harry gets sucked into an epic beerpong game, you join Sandra in the living room, who eyes you with a curious look, but you just shake your head.

“Don’t even ask,” you mumble and grabbing her drink from her hand you take a big swig from it, hoping the alcohol might help you with your anxious thoughts.

An hour later you feel the buzz, but you’re not at all drunk, just a little… braver than usually. You’ve moved to the kitchen with Sandra and a few girls, you’re sitting on the counter, nursing another drink as you listen to one of the girls rage about her asshole ex. Glancing out of the kitchen your eyes find Harry standing in the living room and for your surprise he was already watching you. You catch his smile, his focus completely on you when the guys are talking to him in his little circle, but he doesn’t seem to care. His gaze brings the heat back into your body, he can make you go nuts with just a look and you want to hate him for that, but you can’t. There’s nothing you hate about this guy.

“Stop eyefucking your man and just… fuck him for real” Sandra chuckles leaning closer to you, so only you can hear her words.

“Sandra!” you gasp, smacking her in the boob knowing well she hates it when you do that. She just cackles, returning to the discussion with the girls.

Soon enough, you see Harry moving towards your little group, creeping his way into the kitchen, stopping right beside you, leaning on one arm, his hand placed dangerously close to your thigh on the counter.

“Hi,” he smiles with his rosy cheeks, he surely has drunk some as well, but he doesn’t seem drunk either.

“Hi,” you breathe out, feeling flustered by his closeness again, a smile stretching across your face as he keeps eyeing you grinning. “What?”

“Have I told you how cute your smile is?” he asks and now you’re sure you’ve turned into a tomato.

“No,” you mumble shyly and almost gasp when his hand moves from the counter to your thighs as if it was the most natural thing, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Well, it is cute,” he chuckles, before turning his attention at the conversation in the little circle, but his hand remains still on your thigh.

From there, the situation escalates pretty easily. All it takes him to get between your thighs is to reach for one of the drinks on the counter next to you, his hand still resting on your thigh, and as he is done with the drink, he places it to the counter, his other hand coming to your other thigh, now standing facing you between your legs. Before you could say anything, he pulls on you a little, so you press up against him, your hands instantly coming to grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself in the movement.

“Hi again,” he smirks with glistening eyes.

“You didn’t go anywhere,” you chuckle quietly, your fingers dancing up to the back of his neck, playing with his curls.

“I know, but it made you smile and that’s what I wanted,” he smirks, so proud of himself. He licks his lips and you catch his gaze wandering down to yours, instantly making you nervous as you think back at the failed conversation you had with him not so long ago. This feels like a moment that could head into a direction you are dying for, but without the talk, you’re not sure if you should take the risky step.

Good thing that Harry is not shying out of it. Pressing forward his forehead meets yours, noses muzzling together as his lips linger so close to yours. You suck on your breath, arms curling around his neck as you wait for him to move the last millimeters between the two of you, and seeing that you are not pulling back, Harry makes the final move.

His lips move perfectly against yours, so warm and welcoming, soft and intoxicating, kissing him feels like a gift from above. He is taking his time with you, tasting and savoring you and you’re definitely not complaining. You could spend the rest of your life kissing him and you’d be fine with it.

One of his hands stays on your thigh, keeping a firm grip on it while the other one moves up to cup your cheek as you angle your head to reach him perfectly. He licks into your mouth without warning and you almost let out a moan at the sensation, but you’re just too busy returning his kisses.

You have absolutely no idea how long you stay like that, kissing and touching each other, but when he pulls back, you can’t help the stupid grin on your love drunk face. Harry’s expression kind of mirrors yours as he pecks your swollen lips once more before getting back to his previous position, his hand never leaving your thigh and you hug his strong, tattooed arm, needing to touch him in any kind of way as the two of you reenter the discussion that never stopped. Sandra gives you a wide-eyed stare and you just bite into your bottom lip, turning into a giggly teenage girl all of a sudden.

For just a few minutes you are absolutely convinced the kiss was real, but that’s all you got. As you look into the living room you catch Naomi’s burning stare and it tells you right away she witnessed the whole scene and to make it even worse, Oliver was standing not too far, glaring at you firmly and they make you think.

What if Harry saw them near and kissed you just to mess with them? What if it was all just part of the act? You should have pressed more earlier and have that damned talk with him, how are you supposed to ask now if he meant it or not?!

The more you think about it, the more painful it becomes and the little evil voice in your head convinces you that he didn’t mean it. It’s not like you want to believe it, but you can’t ignore the possibility that slowly grows into reality in your clouded mind.

You lose both Harry and Sandra at one point after going to the bathroom and though you know they are somewhere around, you feel like you can’t stay any longer at the party. Before anyone could stop you, you sneak out of the house and head back to the dorm, hoping that a good night sleep would get your head straight.

Harry tries to call you, but you ignore them all, heading straight to bed when you arrive. You feel guilty for leaving without a word but there’s just too much going on in your head, you need time to process and figure out what to do.

You’re still up when Sandra arrives back but you pretend to be asleep, not feeling like dealing with her investigating questions about the kiss and why you left so suddenly. It takes over an hour for you to finally fall asleep and escape your buzzing thoughts.

Waking up you see no sign of Sandra and you remember she mentioned that her brother is visiting town so they might spend the day together. Amazing opportunity to bury yourself into your deep loneliness and try to figure out what to do.

Harry has been nonstop texting you, asking if you even made it back to the dorm safely and you just shoot him one message to let him know you’re still alive and then ignore him again. Thinking back at the kiss last night your heart flutters every time, you can still feel the touch of his lips, the way his hand cupped your cheeks, it’s driving you crazy. But then you remember seeing Naomi’s and Oliver’s face and you’re convinced Harry saw them too and you always get to the same conclusion: the kiss was just part of the act.

You barely leave the bed the whole day, lying under your covers and watching Netflix until your mind feels numb enough to stop torturing you with your thoughts. And then, there’s a knock on the door. You freeze, knowing well that whoever is on the other side, you don’t want to see them.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there, I heard you watching The Vampire Diaries,” Oliver’s voice calls out from outside and you let out a shaky breath.

Dragging yourself out of the bed you open the door and stare back at him with a blank expression.

“What do you want?” you simply question.

“I broke up with Lexi,” he answers and your eyebrows shoot up. Without asking for permission he pushes his way into the room, stopping in the middle with his hands on his hips. “Last night, I broke up with her.”

“I uhh—I’m sorry, I guess, but why? She was so sweet.”

“I miss you, Y/N,” he blurts out and your shock just raises. Did he just admit to breaking up with his girlfriend because of you?!

“What?”

“Lexi is a nice girl, but I miss you, I miss what we had.”

“And what is that supposed to be?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you fold your arms on your chest. “You miss fucking me whenever it’s convenient for you? Because I certainly don’t miss that.”

“We both know it was more than that, Y/N,” he smiles warmly, but it makes your stomach churn. Nothing about that smile is friendly or nice, he is trying to manipulate you like so many times before, but it’s not working now. He lost his power over you.

“It wasn’t. You were using me, Oliver.”

“That’s not what it was. We were having fun!”

“I wasn’t! I had feelings for you and you used them for your benefit!” you snap at him, not in the mood to play by his rules any longer. You’ll not let him bring you down again. “A friend doesn’t do that.”

“You could have spoken up against it, but I didn’t hear you complaining,” he retorts and it feels like a slap across your face. “I know you miss it too, Y/N. You don’t have to act like you are into Harry, I can see through you.”

“Oh really?” you snort, finding his words rather comedic. He knows or sees absolutely nothing and he just proved it. “Tell me then what you see!”

“I see that you’ve been trying to make me jealous and I’m gonna give it to you, it was successful.”

“Amazing, only problem is that I never wanted to make you jealous. My feelings for Harry are more real than the ones I had for you and I would really like it if you just left right now.”

Grabbing the doorknob you hold it open for him, wanting nothing more than to get rid of him for once and for all. You’ve had enough of his toxic, manipulating ass for a lifetime.

“Are you really kicking me out and just gonna choose him over me?” he huffs in disbelief and you can tell you’ve hurt his ego pretty badly.

“I’m choosing myself and doing what’s best for me. Now leave,” you demand and he finally moves. Walking past you he stops and looks down at you one more time.

“You’re a fucking waste of time,” he sneers before walking out and you need every ounce of power in you not to go after him and punch him in his arrogant face. How could you ever consider him even a friend, let along sleep with him?! He is the most disgusting and degrading asshole you’ve ever seen and you’ll work on forgetting about his whole existence for the rest of your life.

You shut the door behind him and leaning your back against it you slide down to the floor, feeling your chest tightening at the intensity of what just happened. You lost the person you loved the most just weeks ago and realized that he was never who you thought him to be.

You feel like crying for a little, but the tears never come. Instead, a soft sense of relief washes over you, like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, finally setting you free. One less thing to worry about.

As you push yourself up from the floor you hear fractions of a heated conversation outside and when you recognize both voices, your heart stops beating for a moment. Opening the door you hear the conversation between Oliver and Harry now fully clear.

“Stop fucking acting like you are the center of her world, Styles. She has no fucking idea what she wants,” Oliver snaps at Harry, clearly upset about something he said earlier.

“No one thinks that but you! Stop harassing her like a fucking psycho!” Harry fights back and your lips part at how he stands up for you.

“You’re the one harassing her! Don’t think for a moment you have a chance with her, she wants me, not you! You’ll never get into her pants like I did—“

Just when you’re about to barge out of the room to end whatever parade they are having, Oliver’s groan fills the hallway and as you step out, you see him fall to the ground after Harry’s has punched him right in the face.

“What the fuck?!” you snap in shock and they both turn to look at you in the middle of their fight.

“Your fucking boyfriend punched me for no reason!” Oliver spats, pushing himself up, holding a hand to his jaw that’s already turning red.

“Stop making yourself the victim, Oliver, no one buys it!” you groan at him as you step to Harry. He seems ashamed, even scared of your reaction about the fact that he just punched Oliver, but you are not gonna blame him. He did God’s work in this case.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re still taking his side!” Oliver snaps angrily. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”

“Shut up and leave!” you shout at him before grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulling him towards your room.

You hear Oliver mumbling something under his breath, but you couldn’t care less, shutting the door at him once again, this time with Harry in the room with you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just fucking lost my temper and—“ You wave him off, taking his hand in yours softly, taking a look at his knuckles.

“It’s fine,” you smile at him. “Does it hurt?” you ask, gently running your thumb over his reddened knuckles.

“No, it’s alright,” he murmurs, standing so close to you again. His green eyes search yours as his other hand reaches under your chin to lift your head. “You have been ignoring me since last night.”

“I just… had a lot of stuff to do,” you awkwardly answer clearing your throat.

“You sure it’s not because of what happened between us?”

“What? Of course not!” you huff. “I get it, you were just trying to make it convincing because Naomi and Oliver were both watching a-and so you just—“

“What?” Harry asks tilting his head to the side.

“I mean, that’s why you did it, right? I saw them after we—uhh after we you know, kissed.”

“Okay, I didn’t see them and that’s not why I did it,” he admits with a nervous chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought we were on the same page, but apparently not. Y/N, nothing I did recently was because of Naomi or Oliver. If I’m being honest it hasn’t been about them for a while. I really like you and I know I should have talked to you first about it, because now it was all kind of confusing, but I wasn’t faking it. I meant everything I said and did.”

You stare back at him in awe, heart pounding against your chest as his words sink in. He wasn’t acting, the kiss was real and you’ve been acting like a lunatic since last night, completely ignoring him instead of just talking to him, you are such a dumbass!

“Really?” you breathe out, barely more than just a whisper.

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly. “And I kinda thought you feel the same way, but then I came here and ran into Oliver who told me you two just had a chat about… possibilities between you and him?”

The hurt is clear in his eyes and your hatred towards Oliver is not on maximum level. You can’t believe he tried to ruin it all one last time even after you told him you want nothing to do with him.

“That’s not what we talked about,” you shake your head. “He came here, told me he broke up with Lexi and that he misses me, but I told him that’s too bad because I don’t miss him and his stupid little games anymore.”

“Oh!”

“And he tried to convince me to choose him over you, but I already chose you, so he had no chance,” you add, a wide smile spreading across your face as you see him realize what you just said.

“What, does this mean…?” he questions with sparkling eyes as he starts inching closer to you.

“Last night, when Jake barged into your room, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. That I’m not really faking anything anymore, but we were rudely interrupted and then… you kissed me and I thought things were finally going right, but then I somehow convinced myself that it was just because you saw Naomi and Oliver around and tried to upset them.”

“Fuck them!” Harry laughs, his hands finally reaching to grab you by your waist as he pulls you against him. “I don’t care about them anymore. I just want to be with you, no faking, no acting, just… you and me.”

“That sounds… perfect,” you admit with a tired smile before he finally leans down and presses his lips against yours.

“I have a warning for you, Y/N,” he mumbles between kisses, his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you hum, melting into him.

“I will not stop kissing you. It’s my new favorite thing,” he giggles, hands pulling you even tighter to him.

“Oh, how upsetting!” you chuckle without a care in the world before the two of you fall to your bed, a mess of kisses and giggles, but not an ounce of faking.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #fratboy!harry #fake dating au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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thedoubteriswise · 4 years

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okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

#yes I do have a lot of time on my hands #the untamed #cql #wangxian #meta #my meta

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Love Peas {Hiram Lodge x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 1894 Summary: Hiram comes home after a very rough night. Notes: Mentions of death

Shifting under the covers, you heard a noise coming from downstairs. The house was usually quiet save for the murmur of the appliances and electronics, a sound that you had gotten used to over the months of living here with your boyfriend, Hiram. So each and every footstep on the ground sounded like a racket. You laid still, expecting the security system to trigger, saying that there was an intruder, but it did no such thing. The power was still on, you could hear the hum still, that little electrical buzz that was your constant background noise. So that meant whoever was in your house had the keycode. Hiram.

There was even more clamor from downstairs. A groaning sound. Now you knew for sure it was Hiram. You’ve heard him, unfortunately, be in pain on more than one occasion through your relationship. It was the price that he paid for being in the ‘business’ that he was.

You swept the blankets off of you, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. You pulled your robe closed over your pajamas as you made your way quickly to the door, through the hallway, and then started down the stairs to see what the damage was this time. You were always terrified that he was going to come home covered in blood, battered beyond repair. That you were going to hold him and hear nothing but the death rattle right before he would be gone. It was a scene that ran through your nightmares. A scene that if it were in front of you, you were ill-prepared to deal with.

There was nothing lazy, or just-woken up about your movements. Foot descending after foot on the runner of the stairs, keeping the chilliness of the hard floors at bay. Through the moonlight coming in through the windows, you were able to see a form just slipping out of the foyer, making it’s way to the kitchens. “Hiram?" You asked, reaching the bottom of the staircase and turning to follow. He was hurt, though there was no blood on the floor. There wasn’t a trail leading after him. But by the way that his leg was sliding behind him, it looked like it was broken at the very least. You flicked the switch and the kitchen came to life with bright lights, revealing everything. Under those florescent s, there was no room to hide.

Though Hiram was trying pretty hard to hide.

He sat down on the floor, head leaning back against the wooden cabinets. He was bruised, but that was an understatement. He was severely bruised. Black eye. Split lip. His usually perfect hair was tousled in a not-unattractive way but the very fact that he hadn’t immediately took a come to it scared you a little. If that was the state of his face, you were very concerned about the rest of him. You got down on your knees next to him, ignoring the discomfort, nervous to even touch him. He looked like he would break if he did.

“I can explain...” Hiram started off by saying, but then realized that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one. He’d look up into your face, and then would immediately try to cut off the eye contact, looking down at the ground instead.

“I think this is going a bit beyond the first aid box’s capabilities,” You winced upon seeing the other side of his face. Oh lord, even that eye was starting to swell up. He was close to being a human bruise at this point. That poor, gorgeous face of his. “Maybe we should get you to a hospital. Is anything broken? How did you get home?”

“Cab,” Hiram admitted, ignoring your first question. “The driver was - taking care of things while I left.”

“Christ, Hiram,” You groaned. You got up to your feet, dashing towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit that was in there. The amount of times that you had to replace this thing. The pharmacy probably thought that you were in an abusive relationship. You came back to see that he hardly moved, other than to wipe a bit of blood that was coming from the deep cut in his bottom lip. You sat back down beside him, opened up the first aid kit, tore into a package that contained an alcohol wipe and started to blot.

“Do we got any ice packs?” Hiram moaned. You stood up to go and check, looking through the contents of the freezer. You rummaged past the frozen vegetables, frozen pizzas, bottles of alcohol to find that - no, there were no ice packs in the freezer.

“Have to do with some vegetables,” You said, grabbing a bag of frozen peas. You held it up to his face, pressing it as tenderly as you could against the rougher looking eye. He hissed, and brought his hand up to grab it, only to show you how damaged that looked too. Bloody knuckles were the least of his worries. “We’re going to have to get that looked at,” You said, pointing towards his hand.

“It’s fine,” He muttered, letting it rest on the bag, which was resting on his face. It looked like it hurt. You didn’t know how he wasn’t crying out for a hospital. You would be if you sustained even half of those injuries.

“As much as we love peas in this house, I don’t think they’re going to be granting you any miracles,” You said, and went back to dabbing with the alcohol wipe. “Your lip is going to need stitches. The cuts too big. It won’t heal right.” “So call my Doctor,” Hiram growled, grumpily. By instinct, you slapped the top of his thigh, making him gasp out in pain and drop the frozen bag onto the ground. It broke open, the little green vegetables scattering across the tiled floor.

“I don’t care how hurt you are, you don’t talk to me like that,” You said, shaking your finger in his face. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t know how many more of these you can take before you have some serious internal injuries. Even Houdini died from a punch to the stomach, and you’re not nearly as good at escaping trouble as he is.”

“Mi amor, comparing me to a dead man,” Hiram groaned, pushing peas off of his lap. You got up again, your legs getting a work out from all of the squats that you were doing tonight, and grabbed another bag of frozen peas. It was weird that there were so many, but even rich people buy stuff that’s on sale sometimes. It’s how you stayed rich.

“You keep this up and you will be a dead man,” You quipped, putting the fresh bag on his face, holding it this time instead of letting him do it. “At least let me look at you, please?”

He finally gave a nod, and you slowly lifted his shirt to see all of the markings and bruises that were on his abdomen. His torso looked like a Jackson Pollock painting with the different shades of colors everywhere. You winced, bringing the shirt back down. You really hated seeing him look like this. You’ve been pleading with him to retire since the last time that he had received a beating like this. Or at the very least, hire someone younger to take his place in these fights. He was getting too old for this. “You should see the other guys,” He quipped.

“I don’t doubt it. And what were they - half your age?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, moving the bag from one eye to the other. “Hiram, my love, don’t you think it’s about time that you think about retiring? We can move away from Riverdale. We can get a spot on the beach somewhere, where it never snows. Where it’s never warm. Where the only damage you have to worry about is getting too much sun. Getting burned. But I’ll take care of you and always put sunscreen on you. Aloe vera if you do end up getting burned. Just - think about it, okay? For me?”

“I can’t give up my business like that,” Hiram shook his head, not even considering the possibility. You sighed. You knew that was going to be his answer. You hadn’t been expecting anything else. And yet you were still disappointed. As per usual. “I cannot be seen as weak or everything that I’ve done so far will have been for nothing. All of that work. I can’t pull out yet.”

“Of course you can’t,” You sighed. “At the very least, can you plan on it in the future? I don’t want to be putting this bag on your eyes when you’re well into your seventies.”

“Do you think we’ll still love peas then, mi amor?” He asked, breaking into a smile despite what must be a lot of pain, especially in his lip area.

“I think the better question is will I still love you them,” You teased. pressing a kiss onto one of the few parts of his face that wasn’t mottled with bruises. “But yes, to both. These are lovepeas, don’t you know. Rumor says that if you put them on the black eye of the person that you love, you’ll be together until the ends of the Earth. Or until there are no more peas. But given how the bees are dying out, that might not even be until the ends of the earth.”

“And your creativity is why I love you, and why I always come home,” Hiram said, taking your wrists around his hands. You smiled gently, loving that he cared about the weird side of you. Not just the well made-up person who was always by his side at work events. He always had a way of making you feel like you were someone special. Someone worth adoring.

Now if only you could actually get him out of the criminal business and move somewhere like Mexico where you can lie on the beach together.

“Do you love me enough to let me leave for a moment to call the Doctor? I am worried about this lip of yours. I need it stitched up and better so I can kiss you again.”

“Yes, I suppose I love you that much.” His thumbs would rub at the underside of your wrists for a moment, and then he would gently release you so you could get up and walk back to the bedroom where your cellphone was waiting. Even leaving him that long seemed like an eternity. You called the doctor while you were on your way back down the stairs, hanging up as you entered the kitchen, just in time to see Hiram picking one of the frozen peas off of the ground and popping it into his mouth.

“What are you doing?” You asked, going for the broom and dustpan to finally clean that mess up.

“Oh, I thought these were the feel-better peas. You eat a couple and then you feel all better until the end of time?” He’d ask, showing his very rare funny side. You laughed and shook your head.

“Let me clean these up then I’ll get you to your chair. The doctor is on his way.”

#Hiram Lodge #Hiram Lodge x reader #Hiram Lodge oneshot #Riverdale #Riverdale oneshot #oneshot #one shot #request #hiraml #x reader

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mellifluousmalfoy · 4 years

Text

violet. // fred weasley x reader.

i’m so so so sorry this took so long, i’ve had the absolute worst case of writer’s block and it’s taking me decades to sift through these requests!! thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for taking years to write this @helloallthethingsilove <33

warning(s): cuss words, and the tiniest pinch of angst i swear.

word count; 3.5k

okay, maybe this is a slight spin-off to flower curse, but you don’t have to read it to read this.

in which you share the same injuries with your soulmate.

“Calm down, [L/N],”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s a downright git is what he is.” I was fuming.

“Who does he think he is to just up and leave me here? I mean, after everything we’ve been through together, I’d assume he’d had said something to me, don’t you agree?” My dorm mates simply rolled their eyes. According to the letter my boyfriend had left me, this outburst was completely spontaneous.

Spontaneous my arse. I had watched him sneak off with his brother and best friend, whispering for the past week or two. He had every chance to tell me yet now he’s run off, only left me a letter with his reasoning.

Lee, poor Lee, had heard the bitter half of my wrath, promising me he would try his best to get hold of my idiot of a boyfriend. Heck, I could just feel they were experimenting with their newest products to come because I was sporting a yellow bruise on the side of my thigh and it was growing immensely painful.

Fred Weasley, you’re going to suffer for this.

Merlin, the thought of him was bringing tears to my eyes. This was the Yule Ball all over again. The git had ditched me that night, but he came back. He always did come back. The fear bloomed in my stomach knowing that this time, this time he wouldn’t be coming back. He said so in his letter, he wouldn’t be returning so as long as that cow of a professor was still here.

I huffed, standing to leave the common room. Being Fred Weasley’s soulmate was a big joke that Merlin or whoever was playing on me, yet it brought to me my best memories. My stomach sank, he was gone.

I bit back the tears that threatened to escape and muttered an excuse to my dorm mates before turning to leave, praying they wouldn’t follow me because I knew they were worried for me. I grumbled to myself as I left the common room, weaving through the halls towards the library.

I sighed contently when I saw the library was rather empty. I tore my bag off my shoulder and settled down into a desk. My arse of a boyfriend may have left, but I still had important exams that would determine my life to complete.

Hogsmeade was busy as always, bustling with students in third year and up, some on dates, some stuck to the side of their friends. I looked around the streets, it was slowly getting warmer as summer approached and I was thanking the heavens for that. I tried to spot the bright red head of hair that was apparently waiting for me.

Lee had managed to get a hold of his best friend and arranged for us to meet in Hogsmeade.

Walking through the excited sea of students, I tried to manoeuvre through the crowd when I spotted an oh so familiar head of hair. I picked up my pace and headed towards the tall gangly male.

He caught sight of me struggling through the crowd and threw me the cheekiest smile he could muster, only to be met with a glare.

Once I got through the crowd, I basically stomped towards the idiot. He held his arms open, expecting a hug only to be met with a hit to his stomach, which would cause both of us to most definitely sport a good bruise.

He winced at the impact and groaned, “What was that for?”

I simply glared at him and straightened my back, staring down at his hunched figure, “Is that really what you’re asking me, you idiot?”

He straightened up at my tone and knew he was definitely in trouble, “Look,” he paused, shifting uncomfortably in his jacket, “I’m sorry, it really was-”

“Cut the spontaneous bullshit, Weasley.” He frowned at my cold tone and I tried my best not to cry. I may have sounded brave now, but I was seconds from crying. I held my breath as I tried my best not to sound vulnerable, “Why couldn’t you have told me?”

I wanted to curse myself for sounding so small, and his frown softened. He removed his gaze from the floor to meet my sad eyes, and I could see the guilt filling his eyes, “I didn’t expect you to be this upset.”

“Then what did you expect, Fred?” He seemed to relax at my use of his first name and took a hesitant step toward me, “How would you feel if I just upped and left with only a letter as an explanation? I still don’t see why you didn’t tell me, so I could have prepared myself a bit better for the time you did leave.” I nibbled on my bottom lip, a stray tear gliding down my cheek which I quickly wiped with the sleeve of my jumper.

I shook my head when he went to take another step towards me, continuing to speak my innermost demons, “If this is a thing about trust-”

“Don’t be daft,” he was quick to cut me off, and I knew my words were wrong, but feelings took over my brain and I couldn’t stop myself.

“For me, it is Fred. This terrifies me, and you can’t blame me for thinking you would do this once we are finished with school.”

“This is different, I have a reason to leave. You know that.” His voice was stern, different from the silly tone he held before, and his eyes were cold.

“Do I?” The question rang in the air and the tears never seemed to stop coming, “Maybe this isn’t for the best. Maybe we-”

“No, you cannot do this. Not now.” He shook his head, his stern tone replaced by confusion. His eyes were begging me, begging for the truth. He knew I was lying to not only him, but myself.

“Fred, I can’t trust you.” It was a lie. I trusted this man with my life yet I continued to lie to him. He knew I was lying to him, it was my turn to beg. Beg for him to tell me I’m silly and to stop lying, to save our relationship. But he only nodded.

“Sure, okay then.”

“A break.” I left the statement out in the air. I wanted to slap myself across the face, to scream at myself and to ask what exactly I was doing, to try and knock some sense into myself. Yet, I continued to push myself away from the man I wanted and needed most. And he let me.

“If things work out, we’ll meet again someday,”

“And if they don’t?”

I didn’t answer his question, the answer was something that I was terrified of. Losing Fred was something that scared me beyond comprehension, yet here I was, making my worst fears come true.

“Just forget about it, Fred.”

“And just what should I forget about?” I wanted to physically stop myself from speaking, stop myself from hurting this man anymore. I wanted to snap out of it because the hurt in his voice, it wasn’t worth all of this pain. The tears that seemed to fill his eyes wasn’t worth all this, yet I continued.

“Us.”

I wanted him to call me stupid like he always did, to pull me by my elbow and hold me against his chest like he always did. I hated myself for hurting him, it was the last thing I had wanted to do. My mouth wouldn’t stop running, completely ignoring the conversations I played in my head the night before, the ones where I would hug him and tell him I missed him, the ones where I’d jab him on the shoulder and he would hug me and apologise, but instead I was a complete idiot.

My tears wouldn’t stop when I turned to leave, and they only seemed to increase when I knew he wouldn’t run after me. I pushed him far enough away from me that he wouldn’t run after me, and I hated myself beyond belief for it.

A year or so later.

Summer was hitting hard surprisingly.

Summer in the UK never seemed to be hot, but this year it was striking down, particularly in my tiny area of England. Although, summer never seemed to be a fun time, especially if Fred was no longer in the mix. Heck, even my family was upset we were no longer together, they owed him my life in so many ways.

Ever since the summer before our sixth year, he was a regular visitor in our house, so much so my parents had let him stay on more than one occasion. My mother always seemed to make the wedding jokes, but the underlying tone made it obvious she was far from joking.

Merlin, I missed him so bloody much.

Graduating Hogwarts was difficult. All the years spent there were now becoming insignificant, the gossips in our houses were barely thought about now. Some say a burden is lifted from your shoulders after graduating, but the burden of being an adult, finding a job and eventually moving out of my family home was heavier than school could ever be.

Surprisingly, the bruises seemed to decrease over time, and it seems as though the experimentation period had been long done, and seeing a glimpse of their shop whenever I went to work, I knew they had achieved their lifelong goal.

Working as a wandmaker had always been my dream, and I only ever confided in one person, and now he wanted nothing to do with me. Garrick Ollivander had agreed to let me be his apprentice and I had been working with him until the store was in ruins mere days ago. Working under such an incredible craftsman was more than I could ever ask for, (perhaps I had to thank my father’s status for that), but I couldn’t find it in myself to be excited, relieved that I had my life set out for me.

Something was itching in the back of my mind. The letter Dumbledore had given me days before his death remained unopened on my bedside table, and I tried to convinced myself it wasn’t important. But Dumbledore himself had handed me the letter, how could it not be important.

It’s been months since I was given the letter yet it still remained untouched.

I grumbled, cursing myself for not having any more restraint, and I walked back into my house and upstairs into my room. The letter was glaring at me, the red wax begging to be opened.

I hesitated for a moment before approaching my bedside table, ripping the letter open before I could second think about the situation.

My stomach flipped at the contents of the letter, Dumbledore had asked me to join the Order of The Phoenix, guessing I already knew about the elite group, and I did. Fred always told me everything- well he used to. Of course the man knew I wouldn’t open the letter until the last moment, because the date of the meeting and the date he had given me the letter were aeons apart, yet he knew.

The date of the meeting was etched right in the centre, and I knew this was it. The someday I had mentioned to Fred, and if he was willing to have me again, I was willing to give my all to him.

I second checked my bags, it seemed that I needed more than just an overnight bag from what Dumbledore had said in the letter, and I packed as much. I made sure I had my wand and any other important things before stepping into my fireplace, reading out the name of the place Dumbledore had written in the letter and threw the floo powder, letting the flames engulf me.

I was met by a warm living room and a Mrs Weasley who seemed to be fluffing the pillow before she snapped around and welcomed me into her arms. I smiled into the hug she gave me and greeted her, “It’s lovely to see you too, Mrs Weasley. But I would love to move my bags if I could please,”

“Oh! I’m sorry dear! Let me get out your way. Don’t be ridiculous, one of the boys will take it off your hands.” And then she bellowed out the boys’ names in the loudest voice she could muster before turning back to me with her signature smile, “Tea? Coffee, dear?”

“No, thank you. All I really want is to sit down for a bit if that’s alright.” I was exhausted, I hardly slept the night before because all I could think about was Fred. Ron sneaked around his mother to grab my bags off my hands and disappeared into the doorway he came through, only giving me an awkward smile as he did so.

“Yes, yes settle down, love. I’ll show you to the kitchen, ‘S where the rest of the Order are.” I could tell the older witch was itching to ask me something from the way she kept glancing at me as we walked down the long hall to the kitchen, “Dumbledore did say you would come around, we’ve been waiting for you for years, dear.”

I wasn’t surprised as to what she said to me, I knew Dumbledore had known I would come around later from the date in the later, I was more shocked at the fact she had said ‘we’, who else had been waiting for me?

The Order was bustling full of Weasleys, they were everywhere, and I was quite surprised to see Bill here. I had met Bill at one of the few Christmases he had come home, and it seemed like he never came home, not as much as Charlie at least.

I looked around the room expectantly, hoping to see Fred amongst the crowd but came up with nothing, only meeting the awkward eyes of George, who oddly seemed apologetic. Merlin, why couldn’t he dislike me? I broke his brother’s heart along with my own.

I sat down into the seat Molly had pulled out for me and suppressed a groan as I settled into the comfortable chair. The room seemed to grow quiet, some staring at the door, some staring at me. I knew he was here now and I tried to fight the urge to glance at the door yet it was useless.

I looked at him and it seemed he only got more handsome over the two years I hadn’t seen him. He no longer had those boyish features, only boyish charms. His face seemed more sculpted and he looked more built. Merlin, how could I have ever left this man.

I held the edge of my seat in my hand, tight enough for my knuckles to turn white. His brown eyes met mine, and I had expected them to be cold but this was different. He seemed completely isolated as his eyes met mine, the smile that was on his face was fading now.

Before I could even understand what happened, he was dragging me by the wrist down the halls, through doors until we settled at what seemed to be his room.

“What are you doing here?” His hand had never let go of my wrist and I was more than focused on it. I had missed his touch so much that this gave me multiple serotonin boosts at once, electricity was radiating off his hold and it was all I could focus on.

“Dumbledore invited me,” I could barely mutter the three words as I looked into his eyes. His walls were so high I couldn’t break them down if I tried, and I knew they had to come down willingly or this would all be lost.

“It’s been so long,” His words held so much weight. He was aware, we were both aware that we had both done some serious growing up which we needed, and maybe we didn’t know each other so well anymore.

“I missed you.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I adverted my stare to the wooden floor below us. I couldn’t lie anymore, I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. I never wanted to tell a lie to him again because it always came with pain. My words stayed in the air in a way that I hated. Did he not miss me?

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling me by the wrist he still held and towards his chest, “I missed you too.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed my face into his neck, and I knew, this was our someday. This was our time, we had grown as people and now we could go back to each other. We were no longer dumb 17-year-olds who thought they knew what they were doing, we were older and much wiser.

Fred sniffled into my hair and I realised the idiot was crying, but I couldn’t deny that I was too, “Is this our someday?”

His question came out as a whisper and I dug myself further into his jacket, “This is most definitely our someday, Freddie.”

Being with Fred during a war was almost impossible, yet we managed. Our houses were reconnected by floo and he frequented at my home once again, much to my parents’ pleasure.

The war. It was here now, it was inevitable yet I wanted to avoid it, to spend more time with Fred as selfish as it sounded.

The castle was now in ruins. The sanctuary of all the students was now crumbling.

I looked around the castle, ran through the wrecked halls trying to find Fred. We had both been assigned to two different parts of the castle to protect, yet I couldn’t stop myself from having to see him. Something was wrong, I could feel it.

The world felt as though it was slowing down as I deflected the spells dark wizards had been throwing from left and right, throwing back my own curses on the way.

My steps were getting slower over time, and as I neared his part of the castle I knew nothing was right in that moment. My ears were ringing, no longer being able to hear my surroundings.

I couldn’t hear Percy, but I could see he was screaming, crying. And it was over Fred’s body. The whole world seemed to cave in on me. This must have been some joke, a big joke the world was playing on me. There was no way in Merlin’s name he was gone. He couldn’t have been. He had promised me he would never leave me again.

My feet seemed to drag along the floor as I approached them. Percy, who heard my approach, snapped his head towards me, holding out his wand until he saw who it was. Merlin, the man was wrecked. I could barely breathe once I reached his side, “This must be some joke, Weasley.”

My voice was hoarse, my throat running dry as I tried my best to compose myself, “You promised, Fred! You promised you’d never leave my side without telling me! Even leaving a letter behind would mean much more than this.”

My heartbeat was banging against my ears, and I realised. What did this mean for the soulmate link? Death was knocking at my door, I could tell. All I had to do was open the bloody door.

I sunk to the floor crying, no longer being able to hold myself up. I was dying, and I wanted to. Percy remained silent as he watched the life drain from my face.

It happened so quickly. I hadn’t expected death to consume me so quick. The last picture in my mind before my body fell limp was his smile, the genuine one he held whenever he was happy, not that cheeky smirk, not that sheepish grin, but that big happy smile.

It was warm. I felt as though I was floating on a bed of clouds as I refused to open my eyes, to wake up from my sleep.

The sleep I had just woken up from was so good and I hadn’t felt this good after a sleep in what felt like years, and in all honesty that was probably true.

“Love, come on it’s time to wake up,”

“Five more minutes, Fred.” I yawned, turning away from his voice, digging my face into the blanket that was draped over me.

“You said that ten minutes ago, love.”

“And what about it?” I asked, turning my head back toward him. It seemed as though I was dreaming, surely he wasn’t truly here. And so I thought of this as a dream and conversed with him like I always did.

“I have to show you around, don’t I?” I could tell from his voice that he was smiling, and it made me want to return it. I finally opened my eyes and met his own warm brown ones, he seemed so real, “Good morning, lovely.”

“G’morning, Freddie.” The smile that itched at the corner of my mouth took over and I beamed up at him. I had never felt so happy to be in his presence, but what he said earlier rung in my ears, “What do you mean by showing me around?”

“Well,” he paused to press a kiss to my forehead, “it’s not every day you meet your soulmate in the afterlife.”

#harry potter #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter x male reader #harry potter x gender neutral reader #fred weasley x male reader #fred weasley x gender neutral reader

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Don't Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty One: Hide and Secrets

Plot: Reeling from the loss of Chewbacca, the group travels to Kijimi in hopes of retrieving a vital piece of information...

Series Masterlist

Warnings: graphic description of violence/injuries, violent intrusive thoughts, blood, language, choking, we're not here to have a good time people so lots of angst today,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Even though the rest of the series is going to be brutal, this is the last episode where there's even a little bit of a breather. Related to that, we're so close to the end and I'm not sure how to process that 🥺 Hope you enjoy!!

----

When I finally dried my tears and went about summoning the same strength I had when losing Dad and my uncle, I exited the refresher. Finn and Rey stood in the main hold, Rey jumped to her feet, rubbing her typically sweaty palms against her pants.

“Y/n,” she quickly said, “I know that it will never be enough, but I-“ “Rey,” I held up two hands as I stopped in front of my distraught friend, “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know you could do that, right?” She rapidly shook her head, “No, I had no idea.” “Then,” I sadly shrugged my shoulders, “I can’t be mad at you, you’d have never meant to hurt Chewie.” The tears in her eyes still welled regardless of my forgiveness. “I really am sorry,” she whispered, her throat catching with sorrow.

I pulled her into my arms and the two of us embraced, sharing in what little comfort could be taken in the moment. The unsettling feeling of secrecy was what caused me to pull back, my hands still rested on Rey’s shoulders as I scanned her face.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I stated, watching as her eyes became fearful before turning my gaze to Finn, “The same goes for you. What's going on?” Rey’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, whether a truth or a lie had been building on her lips was a loss to find out as Poe marched out of the cockpit. “We’ve only got eight hours left, so what are we gonna do?”

“This isn’t over,” I whispered to Rey, dropping my hands and turning to the group. “What can we do?” Finn said hopelessly, “We gotta get back to base.”

“We don’t have time to go back,” Poe argued, “We are not giving up. If we do that, Chewie died for nothing.” “Poe, Chewie had the dagger,” Finn replied.

I spoke up, “Yeah, but there has to be some other way.”

“Well, there isn’t,” Finn responded, “That was the only clue to the wayfinder thing and it’s gone.” I frustratedly rubbed my hands over my face and left them there, our problems were no easier to face in the self-inflicted darkness.

“So true,” 3PO said from the corner he stood in, “The inscription lives only in my memory now.”

I spread two of my fingers for my eyes to peek out, “Come again?" “The inscription of the dagger is stored in my memory banks,” he answered, “But the translation from a forbidden language cannot be retrieved. That is short of a complete redacted memory bypass.”

“A complete what?” Finn asked.

“It’s a terribly dangerous and sinful act performed on unwitting droids by dregs and criminals,” 3PO replied, turning away as if the whole idea was entirely out of the question.

Finn’s head whipped to Poe and I, “Let’s do that!” Determined as ever, Poe’s eyes sparked that familiar flame once again. “I know a black market droidsmith.” “Black market droidsmith?” 3PO echoed incredulously.

“But he’s on Kijimi,” Poe said, throwing his head back defeatedly. “What’s wrong with Kijimi?” I asked.

“I had a little bad luck on Kijimi,” Poe made every effort to not look any of us in the eye, “But if this mission fails, it’s all been for nothing. All we’ve done, all this time…” he finally looked up at me, nudging my arm with one of his gloved fingers, “3PO’s your and Leia’s droid, you’re the only one here that can give permission to do this.” I sighed and looked over at the droid I was so used to disappointing throughout my life. “We can’t quit now,” I said, “For Chewie.” Finn rose from his seat and nodded confidently before taking my hand, “For Chewie.”

Rey, who still looked every bit as guilty as she thought she should be, stood next and took Finn’s outstretched hand. “For Chewie.”

Poe looked down at my empty hand and back up at me, I held it out for him signaling that we weren’t currently at the odds we had been the last time we’d spoken. The warmth of his palm radiated through his leather glove and he ever so slightly squeezed, the only comfort he could provide me with in such a desperate hour. I’d take whatever I could get.

3PO shuffled over to us, taking Poe’s other hand in his in silent agreement with my decision. At the gesture, Poe visibly became uncomfortable, the list of people he was okay with being openly affectionate with began and ended with me. “Kijimi!” he announced, letting go off both our hands and heading back for the cockpit.

I wasn’t far behind, assuming the role of copilot as I sat down next to him. “You’ve never mentioned Kijimi, not even once,” I said, awaiting his answer that wasn’t going to come, “What are you hiding from me, Dameron?”

My question was enough to drag his eyes away from the controls to meet mine, a look I couldn’t decipher in them. He wasn’t fearful, he wasn’t angry, but he certainly didn’t appreciate me bringing up whatever misfortune he’d run into on Kijimi. “Thrusters a go?” he asked, ignoring my curiosity.

As I mumbled my confirmation, I settled into my chair at great unease knowing that I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets from my friends. We all were.

——

Kijimi was cold and unforgiving, much like the stormtroopers that roamed the planet’s streets.

The First Order was banging on every door and questioning every life form they could. All of us, save Poe, were hidden on one side of a building, waiting for my boyfriend to return from scouting out the territory for a safe path to wherever it was we were going. His jacketed figure finally made its way back to our group, I could see his frown even with the terrible lighting. “They’re everywhere,” he reported, “All right, I know what we should do.” “So do I,” 3PO interrupted, “We should leave.”

I placed a hand over where the droid’s mouth would be if he were human, “Now is not the time.” “Follow me,” Poe ordered, leading us down the street towards our unknown destination. Though only unknown to us, Poe navigated the way with as much ease as he did the jungle of Ajan Kloss. He’d clearly spent a lot of his time on Kijimi. “All right,” he stopped our group against another wall, “Let’s head down this way.”

A cocked blaster pressed against his head stopped any further movement.

“Heard you were spotted at Monk’s Gate,” a modulated female voice said, “Thought, ‘He’s not stupid enough to come back here.’” “Oh, you’d be surprised,” Poe replied, his voice somehow audibly displaying both nervousness and cockiness.

The blaster I kept on my hip was off its holster and in my hand with speed that even surprised me. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but it’s in your best interest to lower the gun,” I said, my voice steely as I aimed my weapon at the gold helmet the woman wore.

“What’s going on?” Finn asked, one step behind me and ready to fight if necessary for Poe’s life. “Guys, this is Zorii,” Poe awkwardly made introductions, the barrel of the blaster still against his temple, “Zorii, this is Rey and Finn and,” he blindly gestured to me, “That’s Y/n.”

“I could pull this trigger right now,” Zorii threatened. “I’ve seen you do worse,” Poe replied quickly. “For a lot less…” “Can we just…” in a bold move, Poe turned and removed his hood, sporting the smallest smirk as he cautiously eyed the woman, “Talk about this?” “I wanna see your brains in the snow…” Zorii answered, not taking kindly to his diplomacy.

“You make one move and I’ll give everybody a display of just that,” I growled, ignoring both the Jedi way and my wondering just how well Poe knew this woman, there was an ease between their back and forth that stirred an almost jealous feeling in me…

“So you’re still mad?” Poe asked, “Zorii, we could use your help. We gotta crack this droid’s head open and fast.” An indignant 3PO spoke up, “Pardon me!” Poe ignored him, “We’re trying to find Babu Frik.” “Babu? Babu only works for the crew,” Zorii answered, seemingly unthreatened by my steady hand and pointed blaster, “That’s not you anymore.”

“What crew?” Rey asked.

My eyes flicked to Poe, watching him shake his head rapidly before silently admitting defeat to the truth Zorii couldn’t be stopped from sharing. “Funny, he never mentioned it…your friend’s old job was running spice.”

“You were a spice runner?” Finn asked, almost as surprised as I was.

Poe was quick to deflect the unflattering light that was being shed on him, “You were a stormtrooper?” “Were you a spice runner?” Rey echoed the question.

“Were you a scavenger? We could do this all night.” “You don’t have all night,” Zorii said as she began to stalk around us, her blaster still trained on Poe, “You know I’m still digging out of the hole you put me in when you left to join the Resistance,” her head tilted in Rey’s direction before looking back at me, “You two. You’re the ones they’re looking for. Bounty for them might just cover us.” I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know that the two bodies that had followed Zorii were slowly making their way towards us, I met Rey’s eyes quickly and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Djak’kankah!” Zorii shouted. “Don’t djak’kankah,” Poe hurried from beside me.

In synch, Rey pulled her staff out from behind her back and I tossed my blaster to Finn to unsheathe my lightsaber. Rey knocked Zorii to the ground while I made work of fatally damaging Zorii’s comrade’s weapons. Within seconds, they’d all been taken care of and I turned to see Rey had her saber pointed at Zorii’s body with the latter aiming their gun at my fellow padawan.

“We could really use your help,” Rey said, nicer than I could have ever been in such a situation, “Please.” “Not that you care,” Zorii said, her chest heaving from the fight as she looked between the both of us, “But I think you’re alright.” “I care,” Rey replied, deactivating her blade and extending a hand to Zorii.

“Quit threatening him” I said, nodding towards a slightly stunned Poe, “And we won’t have a problem.” Zorii, in fact, proved to be anything but a problem. She led us down a back way to a trader’s den, confidently marching in as if she owned the place. For all I knew, maybe she did. I didn’t know the woman or how she knew my boyfriend, whom it seemed I also didn’t know. Poe had kept an entire chunk of his life hidden from me all the years that I’d known him and something about that hurt. However, with 3PO hooked up to a multitude of wires, I was trying my best to focus on the matters at hand. “I haven’t the faintest idea why I agree to this,” the droid said from his seated position, “I must be malfunctioning,” Babu Frik, the little alien that Poe had known once upon a time worked on one of 3PO’s wires, causing him to repeat himself, “I must be malfunctioning.”

“You agreed to this because it’s our only option,” I said from my spot next to him, “You do this and you’re a hero to the galaxy.” “Babu Frik?” Rey asked the small droid mechanic, “Can you help us with this?’ He gave an answer in a language none of us could understand, causing Rey to look elsewhere for a translation. “Zorii? Is this gonna work?” Zorii moved from her position on the steps with Poe, the two of them having warmed up to each other a little too fast for my liking. She posed a question in Babu Frik’s tongue, the creature answering back in his naturally slow manner. “He says he’s found something in your droid’s forbidden memory bank. Words translated from Sith.” “That’s it!” I exclaimed, patting 3PO’s metal shoulder. “Yeah, that’s what we need,” Finn echoed my excitement from behind Rey and I.

“Who are you hanging out with that speaks Sith?” Zorii questioned Poe, who was making his way down to stairs to come into the same space. “Babu, can you make him translate it?” he asked.

Babu answered.

“Yes,” Zorii translated, “But it will cause a complete-“ “A complete memory wipe,” 3PO finished.

My eyes widened, “A what?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Poe held up a hand, “We make him translate it, he won’t remember…anything?”

“Droid memory go blank,” Babu answered, speaking enough of our language to confirm Poe’s question, “Blank, blank.” “There must be another way!” 3PO exclaimed, I was still too in shock to form words. “Doesn’t R2 back up your memory?” Finn asked.

“Oh, please, R2’s storage units are famously unreliable.”

“No,” I finally found my voice and announced it to the room, “I’m calling it. We’re not doing this, I’m sorry, but we’re gonna have to find another way.” “Y/n…” Poe started, carefully tiptoeing around the impending explosion of emotions I was about to have. “Nope, not happening,” I continued, “I’m not losing anyone else. Babu, thank you for your time, start putting him back together.” Rey gently grasped my arm, “Y/n…” 3PO, for all his shortcomings, was one of the steadiest presences in my life. He hadn’t been just a faithful servant to me and my family, he’d been my most dependable friend. There had been too many losses in the Resistance in the past year and fresh off of Chewie’s death, I wasn’t prepared to let another piece of my family go.

And if the very fate of the galaxy didn’t depend on getting the damned inscription, I’d have allowed myself to be selfish.

Slowly turning away from Rey, I came to stand in front of where 3PO sat hooked up to Babu’s machines. “Do we have a choice in this?” I asked softly, my mouth suddenly feeling unreasonably dry.

The droid processed for a moment before rising from his seat and taking a few steps away from us. “If this mission fails, it was all for nothing. All we’ve done, all this time…” 3PO turned and faced our group, staring silently at us all.

“What are you doing there, 3PO?” Poe asked.

“Taking one last look, sir,” he answered, “At my friends.”

I shut my eyes, my wet lashes dropping a tear or two down my cheeks as the sentiment hit me. “Go ahead,” I whispered, giving Babu the authority to do what needed to be done.

Noise from outside broke the moment. “Night raids are gonna start soon,” Zorii stated, “I’ll keep lookout.”

“I’m coming with you,” Poe said, chasing after her departing figure in a surprising turn of events. I dragged my tearful eyes away from my soon to be amnesic droid to my boyfriend who wasn’t sparing any glances my way.

“You still don’t trust me?” Zorii asked.

“Did you ever trust me?” my boyfriend fired back as they climbed the staircase together.

“Nope.” My eyes remained trained on the last spot where Poe had been visible to me before he disappeared with the mystery woman. It didn’t matter, the hurt and anger I felt with Poe for leaving me as I readied myself to say goodbye to 3PO wouldn’t change with knowing their history together. But damn it all if I didn’t want to slap Poe a little for not choosing to stay with me rather than go with Zorii. I could feel Rey and Finn’s concerned eyes through the back of my head, I didn’t have to turn around to showcase my jealousy.

“It’s fine,” I lied, clenching my fists at my sides, “He can do whatever the hell he wants, we’ve got bigger concerns.” I walked back over to where 3PO was once again seated, Babu already preparing him for the procedure. “Thanks for…” I wrapped two arms around the gold droid’s neck, “Everything.”

One metal arm patted my back awkwardly, hugs weren’t exactly something we typically exchanged. “You are most welcome, Mistress Y/n. Your companionship had brought me a great many joys throughout our years together.” There was nothing more to be said, or rather there was so much more and not enough time to say it. I backed away to let Babu do his work and stepped to the side, occupying the space next to Finn and keeping a watchful eye as the creature began to operate on my droid. Bee and D-O, the abandoned droid Bee had discovered and activated on the ship, watched from the opposite side of the room as well. Minutes went by without a word, the only sound in the room was Babu’s tools picking and prodding at the inside of 3PO’s head.

“Oh, I just had an idea,” 3PO eventually said, “There’s something else we could try-“ We’d never know what he’d been thinking as Babu hit the correct circuit and 3PO lost power. Finn reached a hand around my back to land on my shoulder as I flinched, the sight of him switched off not by his own accord a little hard on me. Rey took the time to excuse herself and push past us, going to check on Bee and D-O.

“You don’t have to watch, y’know…” Finn said, “If it’s too much…” “No,” I shook my head, my eyes still on the droid whose loyalty I could only hope to match, “I’m staying with him.” There was a pregnant pause between the two of us before Finn took a breath, “Can I ask you a question?” “I’ll answer yours if you answer mine…” I replied.

“What’s going on with you and Poe?” I sighed and crossed my arms, taking a defensive position as if I could shield myself from the reality of the topic. “Nothing good…” I answered, “Things have been rough lately.” Taking his time to handle the weight of my answer, he couldn’t stop himself from asking a followup. “You guys are gonna be okay though, right?”

Emotions had run high all day, the moment we were in was no exception. I’d liked to have blamed the tears that stung my eyes on saying goodbye to 3PO, but I couldn’t lie to myself. Poe and I were drifting apart and that struck a deeper fear in me than I’d ever known.

I cleared my throat, the thought of admitting my feelings out loud wasn’t one I was ready to handle. “Sorry, no follow ups. My turn…What’s your secret?” I’d hit the target just as I’d intended to, though I still wasn’t sure what I was searching for. Whatever it was, I could sense that Finn was desperate to tell somebody. “I can’t…I can’t tell you here,” he finally relented from secrecy in its entirety, “Later.”

Nodding in response, I watched him leave to go find where Rey and the droids had wandered off to. I stayed silent as I watched Babu try to access whatever apart of 3PO’s circuits the inscription lay in. I decided that once we returned to our ship, I’d try to get word to Mom and give her an update. She was undoubtably worried by now and she didn’t need to wonder any longer than necessary.

The hatch at the top of the staircase opened to reveal Zorii and Poe. “There’s an incoming destroyer,” Zorii announced.

“We gotta go now, did we get it?” Poe asked.

“Wouldn’t have to ask if you’d have stayed,” I mumbled to myself, just loud enough that he could possibly hear it. “Babu?” “Yep, droid is ready!” Babu answered back, making one final adjustment to 3PO to make the droid’s eyes turn red and his torso to sit straight up. I jumped back at the unsettling sight.

“The Emperor’s wayfinder is in the Imperial vault,” a voice that definitely didn’t belong to the beloved droid informed us, “At delta 3-6, transient 9-3-6, variant 3-2 on a moon in the Endor system. From the southern shore. Only this blade tells. Only this blade tells.” With an exclaim, Babu shut 3PO off again and he fell back in his chair.

“The Endor system,” Finn said, “Where the last war ended?”

An overhead rumbling that shook the ceiling of the workshop caused us all to look up, Rey was only slightly ahead of me as we made our way up the stairs fearlessly to open the hatch. The average being wouldn’t have been able to tell the ominous Star Destroyer having in the sky apart from any other, but Rey and I weren’t average. “It’s him…” I muttered.

“Ren’s Destroyer.” “He’s here?” Poe asked from below. I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming sensation, different than the empathetic pain I felt when one was injured or the unfortunate attacks I’d been suffering from lately. This was warmth and familiarity and…family.

“Rey,” I stuck a hand out and blindly reached for her, “It’s Chewie.” Sensing the same thing I was, she repeated his name hopefully.

“What about him?” Finn asked. “He’s on the ship” I answered, my voice cracking with emotion, “He’s alive.” “What? How?” Poe asked in disbelief.

“He’s alive!” Rey exclaimed, “He must’ve been on a different transport.” “We gotta go get him,” Finn stated, as if it wasn’t what we were all thinking.

I bounded down the steps with a newfound joy, something I’d thought was impossible to find in our situation. “No time to waste, let’s pack it up!” I said, moving around Zorii towards 3PO. As soon as I landed at the droid’s side, he sat up. “Might I introduce myself,” he said, “I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations,” he looked around the room at the various faces, “And you are?” “Okay, that’s gonna be a problem,” Poe commented, pointing at the droid.

“Okay,” I rubbed my eyes out of stress before placing to hands on 3PO’s arm, “I promise I will explain everything to you but right now, we don’t have the time so I’m gonna need you to trust us. Now,” I bent down and grabbed his discarded coat, “Put this on and follow us.” “Trust you? When I don’t even know who you are? I don’t see-“ “I’m your master, okay?” I hurriedly pulled the protocol droid to his feet and started shoving his arms into the jacket, “And if you want to live, you’ll listen to me when I say we need to get the hell out of here.”

Begrudgingly, the droid followed along as our group hurried out of Babu Frik’s workshop and into the snowy streets of Kijimi. I could sense Ren’s incoming presence, causing me to urge us all to move faster.

“3PO, move your metal ass!” Poe said frustratedly as we closed in on where our ship was parked, “We’re almost there.” “How dare you,” he exclaimed, “We’ve only just met!” Rey, Finn, the droids and I rushed between two buildings before I noticed that Poe and Zorii had hung behind. I stopped and watched the two share an exchange I couldn’t make out, Zorii shoved something into Poe’s hand just before I heard the sound of a ship overhead. Ren.

“We need to go!” I shouted annoyedly, when Poe made no effort to end their conversation, I rolled my eyes and shoved Rey and Finn forward, “Go, he’ll catch up.” We made our way to the ship and loaded in, I seated myself in the pilot’s chair, taking it upon myself to get us where we needed to be. Poe eventually made his way to the cockpit just as I was making the final checks.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Dameron,” I retorted as I lifted us off the ground, “I’m sure making chit chat with old flames was more important than getting our asses off this snowy wasteland.”

Poe tossed a coin shaped token into my lap without a word, I picked it up and upon inspection identified it as a First Order captain’s medallion. It was a surefire way to get us aboard the Destoryer when there’d previously been no plan. Connecting the dots that it was Zorii who had given it to him, I decided it was in everybody’s best interest if I stopped talking.

Once we made it up to the meaning ship, a First Order officer came over the comms and asked for our identification. I slipped the medallion into the slot with Poe, Finn and Rey anxiously positioned around me. We all held our breath as we awaited confirmation that we’d been granted passage. I exhaled forcefully when the message came through, “We’re clear, hanger 12.” Together, and yet entirely separate, Poe and I navigated the ship into the designated landing zone without any problems. I jumped out of my seat and threw my snow jacket off. Ren was still on Kijimi, clearly unable to sense that we were no longer there, which would buy us time. Not much, but hopefully enough to retrieve Chewie and chart a course to Endor safely.

The four of us bounded down the ramp of the ship and fired our blasters at the stormtroopers demanding our credentials plus a few that waited from a distance. “You three, stay there!” Rey ordered the droids.

“Happily!” 3PO called back. “Which way?” Poe asked Finn, the only one of us who had a decent shot at navigating the foreign ship.

“No idea,” he disappointedly answered, “Follow me!” We obeyed his command and let him lead on, we maneuvered down a great many hallways as stealthily as we could. Eventually once we heard the marching footsteps of a group of troopers, we ducked between panels that stuck out of the wall and hid till they passed. We darted out and made our way down another hall, taking cues from Finn, until we turned around to come face to face with two stormtroopers.

“Drop your weapons!” one of them ordered. While Finn and Poe immediately held out their hands for the troopers to see, Rey took a brave step forward. “It’s okay that we’re here,” she said smoothly, waving a hand in a semi circle.

A beat of silence passed before the stormtroopers lowered their weapons obediently, “It’s okay that you’re here.” “It’s good…”

“You’re relieved that we’re here,” I added, waving my hand in a matching manner.

“Thank goodness you’re here.” “Welcome, guys.” “We’re looking for a prisoner and his belongings,” Rey continued, the supposed guards giving up the information all too willingly. We wasted no time in leaving them behind and making for where they’d said Chewie’s was. Upon finding out the specific type of cell he was being held in was meant for torture, I strode with a new urgency.

“They said Chewie’s this w-“ I started, before losing all words and clutching the wall as the familiar splitting pain entered my head.

The flames had grown closer.

The screams echoed louder.

A well known animalistic cry filled my ears.

With a blood red lightsaber in my hand extended, I turned to see Chewbacca’s body laid out on the ground, his chest rising and falling deathly slow, lightsaber wounds marking his hairy body.

“Don’t be afraid,” the deep voice of Ren came from behind me, “You know exactly what you’re capable of.” I bit down on my lip so hard that I could taste blood in an attempt to stifle the scream that was trying its hardest to escape my mouth. The pain couldn’t die fast enough once the attack ceased, Ren’s voice still echoing in my mind like it was a cavern. “Y/n,” Poe was quick to steady me as my legs went out from underneath me, “Are you okay? What the hell was that?” Another secret was what it was. I’d managed to keep my hellish conscious nightmares hidden from him over the last few months. “I’m f-fine,” I panted, shrugging off his helpful hands as I rose to my feet shakily, “Finn,” I waved my blaster towards the control panel, “The doors.” He listened to me and went to work on unlocking them, I ignored Poe’s sudden concern for me and focused on Rey, who had separated herself from us. “What is it?” I asked in between heaving breaths, my heart rate sky high as the images of my dead friend still danced in my head.

“The dagger is on this ship,” she said, “We need it.” “Why?” Poe asked as he approached her, I stayed leaned up against the wall. “A feeling,” Rey answered, “I’ll meet you back at the hanger.” “I’m coming with you,” I stated, pushing off the wall in a sad attempt to follow after her.

“Y/n, you can barely walk, you need to get back to the ship,” Poe said, catching my forearm in his hand in hopes I wouldn’t slip out of his grasp. “You’re not in charge of me, Poe,” I bit back at him a little harsher than called for as I pulled my arm out of his grip and started off in Rey’s direction, “You two go and get Chewie.” Poe frustratedly sighed, “Look, I’m just trying to help you.” “Yeah, well,” I turned and locked eyes with him, “Don’t.” Without waiting see his reaction and before I had the sense to apologize for my hurtful words, I turned away and stumbled after Rey. Eventually I caught up to her and the two of us jogged through the Destroyer. I trusted that she knew where she was going, unlike my distrust of the nightmare’s physical effects on me. It had never happened before and the worry I felt was more than justified.

Almost as soon as I regained the ability to run and feel like my legs weren’t going to fail me, the air I breathed was sucked out of my lungs and I let out a stifled cry. Someone nearby had gotten injured. “Was it one of them?” Rey asked, concern overwhelming her tone. “It must’ve been,” I replied, bracing my hands against my knees and inhaling deeply, “But they’re okay. C’mon, we gotta go.” “They’re getting worse,” she said, broaching the topic I wanted so desperately to avoid, “Your attacks.”

“We’re not talking about this right now,” I snapped, my patience slipping away quicker than I could control, “I’m fine, now let’s go.”

We made the rest of the journey in silence, if my head wasn’t in such a fog I would have felt sorry for how I’d reacted to the care Rey and Poe had tried to show me. My logic felt buried beneath my fear, my guilt over a crime I hadn’t actually committed clouding my mind. It had been so vivid, Chewie laid out on the ground with a lightsaber hole burning through his sternum. My reasoning for leaving Finn and Poe to rescue the Wookiee had been twofold, not only would Rey need my help if she’d sensed something, but I didn’t want to go near Chewie at the moment.

Rey and I stepped through a door to a pure white room, a stark contrast to the dark color scheme of the rest of the ship. Descending the steps, I scanned the room for Chewie’s belongings but found something I’d never expected to lay eyes on. Rey saw it too, both of us taking slow and curious steps towards it.

The charred remnants of Darth Vader’s helmet.

I could feel the darkness, the pain associated with the armor and was lost as to how it could possibly have survived. How could it have ended up here? Anakin’s body, as my mother had told me once, had been burned on Endor at the end of the war by Luke. It was impossible, but our lives were made up of impossible so perhaps it wasn’t so imperceivable.

Turning away from the helmet, Rey and I spotted Chewie’s bandoleer, his bowcaster and the dagger. Rey grabbed the dagger while I took the other items and slung them over my shoulder, my friend stared down at the dagger and it didn’t take Jedi skills to sense her confusion, her fear. “What is it?” I asked quietly, not wanting to startle her out of whatever daze she was in. Regardless of my efforts, she jumped with a gasp and whipped around to face the empty expanse of the room. “Rey?”

Her brown eyes were locked onto something that wasn’t there, at least not to me. “You’re hard to get rid of…” she said, her voice low.

“Excuse me?” I furrowed my brow, confused as she turned back to the task at hand of gathering Chewie’s objects, “What-“

She stayed silent except for the sound of her lightsaber activating, she faced the room once again with anger painted across her features. “You’re lying…” she seethed.

It didn’t take me long to figure out what was transpiring before me, it was the force bond Rey had told me so much about. We had researched it, pouring over the Jedi texts for any possible answer as to why her and Ren were seemingly tied to one another. We’d been unsuccessful so far and Rey had been forced to experience unexpected connections with him. It was surreal to watch it take place, some conversation taking place in a realm I couldn’t enter with the person I’d been trying to reach for months.

“I don’t want this,” Rey said through her tears before letting out a cry and wielding the saber in a battle with the air. She froze as if her weapon had hit something, possibly Ren’s blade. I wanted nothing more than to jump into the fight and aid her as she broke away from her opponent. “Stop talking,” she demanded before continuing the fight. My hands were metaphorically tied behind my back and all I could do was stand there and wait for the moment to end.

My gut twisted as I got the distinct feeling that something was wrong on the other side of the ship, Finn and Poe were in danger. I couldn’t be in both places at once helping everybody and that killed me. If Rey and Ren’s connection didn’t break soon, I’d have to make the call to run like hell through the ship and find the others.

“Rey, we need to go,” I called, loud enough to hopefully break through her concentration.

“No!” she yelled, once again not directed at me. She expertly swung her lightsaber around, accidentally driving it into the pedestal and shattering the stand that displayed Vader’s helmet. Unfortunately, the fight still didn’t come to its end and Rey and the metaphysical Ren continued their assault on one another until eventually, Rey stumbled backwards signaling that the connection had been broken.

I came to her side, “What did he say?”

“He’s coming,” Rey answered, not quite present as she absorbed whatever he had told her.

“Shit,” I breathed, it wouldn’t take him long to get from Kijimi to the ship, “We need to go.”

Carrying Chewie’s things, we retraced our steps back to the ship as fast as we could. Suddenly faced with the reality of being in Ren’s presence, I wasn’t sure how I felt. All I knew for certain was we needed to find Poe and Finn immediately and leave before I discovered my true feelings. We made it back to the hanger and found the droids surrounded by troopers interrogating them. I aimed Chewie’s bowcaster at them and took out two while Rey disposed of the rest with her own blaster.

“Oh dear, my first laser battle,” 3PO commented, astonished. Had we not been in such a rush, I made have spared a second to laugh.

“Where are the others?” Rey urgently asked.

“They haven’t come back,” he answered.

“You two stay here,” I pointed towards the spacecraft as I began to step away from them, “I’m gonna go find them.” It was wasted effort, the familiar sound of Ren’s TIE Interceptor came roaring into the hanger. I froze in my spot the short distance away from Rey and the droids, knowing that where I needed to be had been decided for me.

“Find them,” Rey said to 3PO.

He scurried over to me and I placed the bowcaster and Chewie’s bandoleer in the his care, sending him on his way to retrieve Finn and Poe with D-O and Bee at his feet. I turned my attention to the figure emerging from the Interceptor, Rey stood directly across from him while I split the difference between them. My better judgement told me not to extend my lightsaber, that it wasn’t going to be that kind of fight. I needed to wait for the right moment. Even as the battalion of stormtroopers descended into the hanger, I kept my weapon holstered. I was apprehended by two of them, the long-standing fight for my capture finally over. As they pulled me back and handcuffed my wrists, I held eye contact with Ren, or at least where his eyes lay underneath his helmet. This was the closest we’d been the one another since our fight on Crait. The sick familiarity of him was anything but comforting, and yet there was a part of me that needed to hear him speak. He’d gone dark on me for too long and I needed to know what was going on in his head.

He shifted his focus to Rey, the two of them circling one another in some sort of silent showdown. Finally, they stopped, Rey closest to the edge of the hanger where with one miscalculated step, she could meet an unfortunate end. “Why did the Emperor come for me?” she asked, succeeding in confusing me, “Why did he want to kill a child? Tell me.” “Because he saw what you would become,” Ren answered, “You don’t just have power. You have his power. You’re his granddaughter. You are a Palpatine.”

It seemed like to world stopped for a minute, everything we were fighting for and against was swept away with the wind like stray grains of sand on Tatooine. Shock wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what I was feeling, my chest constricting and my mind spinning. It couldn’t be true.

“My mother was the daughter of Vader,” Ren began.

I couldn’t stand to listen to him soil the legacy of the woman I loved most in the galaxy, “You don’t breathe a word about-“ My rage was slayed as soon as it had been born as a nearby Stormtrooper drove the butt of his blaster into my abdomen, causing me to cough and choke as oxygen was forcefully knocked from my body. I groaned at the spreading pain, clenching my eyes shut while trying to still listen to the conversation happening in front of me.

“Your father was the son of the Emperor,” Ren continued his speech, “What Palpatine doesn’t know is we’re a dyad in the Force, Rey. Two that are one. We’ll kill him together and take the throne.”

“Rey,” I breathed, fighting through the throbbing pain in my abdomen, “He’s lying, don’t listen to him.” Ren blindly reached an open hand behind him and closed off my airways, choking me from afar and effectively shutting me up. “You know what you need to do,” he said, turning back to Rey and ignoring the sounds of struggle I was making to construct any sort of breath I could.

Words couldn’t be formed but I mentally urged Rey, begged her not to listen to the utter shit Ren was feeding her. As my vision began to grow grainy, I heard the faint sounds of the Falcon, my beloved ship, and was convinced that death was calling me. But as I opened my bloodshot eyes and witnessed her make a grand arrival, I felt new life surge through me. The pilot, undoubtably Poe, backed up to the edge of the hanger and hit the thrusters, sending a wave of energy into the room that caused each Stormtrooper to slide across the floor. Ren dropped his hold on me and I took my first wheezy breath just as the two troopers holding me in position lost their grip on my body. I moved against the currents until I was parallel with Rey, Finn was standing on the Falcon’s ramp ready to rescue us. Rey was the first to jump, sending Ren one last look that I couldn’t understand before she leapt into the air and Finn pulled her in.

I turned to the Supreme Leader, my hands cuffed in front of me, and my will as strong as ever. He’d invaded my mind countless times since he’d reestablished our connection through the Force, for once we were going do things on my terms. “I want you to look in my head and tell me what you see,” I shouted over the noise of the ship, he was a little too eager to accept the invitation. Once he was in, I filled my brain with every image I had of my grandfather, stating with each and every thought that I was a Kenobi. I was now an even bigger threat to him and his regime. When I reopened my eyes, I took satisfaction in the surprise painted across his pale face. For once, Kylo Ren was speechless. I gave a breathless smirk before turning around and jumping off the edge of the platform, Rey assisted in pulling me in by way of the Force while Finn caught me. The three of us ran up the ramp and into the heart of the ship.

“Rey, don’t-“ I began, trying to preemptively pull my friend out of the blame she was inevitably going to place on herself because of her recently discovered lineage. It was of no use, she stormed off away from Finn and I as quick as she could to process the news privately. Finn was confused and I didn’t have the time or the right to explain the situation to him. “Bee, help get me out of these,” I called, the little droid speedily rolling down the hall at my command and following me to the cockpit. When I arrived, I found Poe and Chewie sending us to lightspeed. I should have wanted to throw my arms around the Wookiee, had I been able to, but after my nightmarish attack wherein I had been responsible for his gruesome death, I felt the need to keep my distance. I should have wanted to run to Poe, to take comfort in his embrace as I recounted what had happened while we were separated. All I felt when I looked at him currently was frustration.

“Are you okay?” I asked, even my anger couldn’t override my concern for his wellbeing.

“Fine,” he replied coldly, not bothering to look my way as he finished up with the controls of the Falcon, “You?” He was lying. I could see crimson red on his arm staining his cream colored shirt. He was the one I’d sensed got hurt. I wanted to help him in any way I could but I suspected he was being refusing my help in retaliation for me refusing his. I swallowed, ignored the pain from my already bruising abdomen and sat down to let Bee work on removing my cuffs, “Fine.” Oh, how badly I wanted to tell him that things were so very far from fine.

----

A/N: If you thought this was bad, just wait for the next chapter...(sorry not sorry 🙈) Let men now if you'd like to be tagged and as always, thanks for reading!!

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @imaginecrushes @eternallyvenus @thescarletknight2014 @simplybarnes @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords @april-14-blog @i-ievu @ultrunning @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @caswinchester2000 @meraki-loki @lovinnholland @wishing4wishes @fruitloopzzz @bbuckysbeardd @justanotherblonde23 @ace-fiction @abysshaven @thisshitfucks @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @itsfangirlmendes @superbookishhufflepuff @zoriis @hybrid-in-progress @chloe-skywalker @lovinnoya @horsedragonllama @mads-weasley @maybeimart @damerondala @x-judyjude-x @dindjarinsspouse

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x solo!reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine

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mangolover · 3 years

Note

Hi! Is it possible to request Kaeya and #22 for the 50 followers event? Congrats btw!!

Hey, thank you so much for your request!

It’s still posibble to request around 5 prompts I think, so feel free to send in another ask!

Anyways, I don’t know what I aimed for here. All I know is that I always wondered how in the hell did the vision bearers learn to control their visions? And how do they work? Do you need to hold it or something?

Either way, please enjoy our dear Cavalry Captain Kaeya saving us.

50 Followers Drabble Event, prompt #22 with Kaeya

If you wish to check out the official “50 Followers Drabble Event”, press here

Title: You Will Be Okay

Prompt: “Do you trust me?”

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Kaeya x gn! reader

Genre: angst (?) with a happy ending kinda?

Warnings: mentions of injury, fire, burns, mentions of death (minor unnamed characters)

Spoilers: brief mentions of his and diluc’s past

Word Count: 900+

Description: After fending off the attacking fatui agents, you got a pyro vision. One you cannot control. So your fear feeds the flames before you pass out and Kaeya comes to your rescure, bringing you to the sisters to heal you. You will be okay.

Enjoy!

This is so random...

Also I am aware that drabble is supposed to be under 100 words, but I consider it to be under 1000 words

You Will Be Okay

Soaring fire surrounded you, smoke filling your lungs and dying your soul black. Another spark of fire made its way towards your leg and burnt you, causing you to let out a yelp and to take another step back towards the cliff.

This wasn’t your intention, and you would take it back a hundred times if you could, but you couldn’t, they pyro vision gracing your hip was the proof of that. ‘At least they are dead’ you thought to yourself. Fatui agents couldn’t get to you even if they were still alive, the fire you shot out of the palm of your hand moments before you were slashed was keeping them away. But it was keeping away help as well.

You are sure the Knights have already seen the flames and sent someone to check it out, maybe they even sent a back up to tame down the flames after they saw the fallen fatui agents. But it still didn’t help calm your fear.

Your legs were shaking, your heart was pounding, and your vision was becoming hazy. You inhaled too much smoke and it was slowly making you succumb to the darkness.

Flames started to move again, just like in chess. The enemy was getting closer to you and you had to retreat in order to protect yourself, the most valuable piece. But you can’t last for long, all your comrades were on the other side of the board, even your beloved boyfriend, the second most valuable piece that caused many kings to fall.

Seemingly out of options and with yet another burn on your lower leg, you let out a pained cry hoping someone would hear it and finally come to your aid.

“Is someone there?!” You heard a male voice call out towards the flames.

“Please h-“ a cough cut you off, your body tried to eject all the smoke, finally seeing a chance of survival, a sign of hope “help me!”

“Y/n?!” a familiar voice called out to you this time. However, your memory was becoming foggy and you couldn’t pin down the face to the voice even if your life depended on it. “It’s me Kaeya, are you alright?”

The was hidden concern in his voice, but you could easily pinpoint it. You knew him too well; you know he is just trying to stay calm for your sake.

“I’m going to use my vision to cool off these flames, okay?”

And he did just that, his cryo vision calming down your pyro one, but you were still shaking. This time another fear came over you, what if you hurt him on accident? You can’t control your vision!

“No! Stay back!”

“Huh? What are you talking about??” For the first time, he was genuinely confused.

“I-“ another cough, another tear sliding down your burning cheek “I can’t control this! I can’t control myself and my vision!”

“Your vision?” You could make out a shape of a man behind the thinned down curtain of flames.

“I got it and this is the result” your voice was quiet; you were ashamed even if you did everything just to protect yourself. “I’m sorry, please just go, I’ll be alright!” An obvious lie, you can’t help yourself anymore. If he walks away now, he will take your life with him.

But he isn’t ready to give up on you just yet. “That I cannot do! Stay back, I’m almost there!”

“No!” You took a step back and almost fell; a small bit of your footing came falling down. You let out yet another yelp and more fire escaped you, it seemed to grow with your fear.

“Y/n!” Kaeya called out for you, worst case scenarios running through his mind. He can’t lose you! If he does, he feels like he might lose his mind. Once again, just like all those years ago when the man who took him in died, burning flames and freezing ice collided.

He could see the fragments of your face from where he was standing, a petrified look in your eyes was evident. He knew he must find a different approach.

“Do you trust me?” he said it quietly, you would almost miss it. It was his silent plead, last resort.

You opened your mouth to say yes, but instead started coughing, black spots overcoming your vision.

You know you are going to pass out so you find the strength to mutter the most silent and softest “yes” ever, before closing your eyes.

Kaeya immediately sprung into action, putting out the last bit of fire before catching you mere seconds before you hit the ground. He lifted you in his arms, careful of your burns and turned around. “Cathedral, quick!”

He sprinted like his own life depended on it, pushing everyone out of the way. You need urgent medical help. His gaze fell on you as he ran up the stairs leading to the archon statue, you looked too peaceful, but as he pressed two fingers to your pulse, he felt a weak beating. A sense of relief washed over him as he made his way to the sisters to help you.

You were going to be okay and then he’ll help you control your fear. He’ll even ask Diluc, Bennett and Amber to help you control your vision, he didn’t care, he was just glad you were alive.

The sisters took you away as Kaeya watched after them, muttering “you will be okay” under his breath.

#50 followers drabble event #genshin impact angst #genshin impact drabble #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x gn reader #genshin kaeya #genshin kaeya x reader #🥭#genshin angst #tw injury #tw burns #tw fire #tw passing out

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beeexx · 4 years

Text

Fic: Autumn

4 tattoos on TK’s body, 4 stories set over each of the 4 season. Carlos and TK grow closer.

Read part one here or read the whole thing on ao3, see the end notes there for more of my comments.

-----------

It’s been raining on and off for weeks now, the humidity thick in the air, mixing badly with the chillier temperatures in the mornings and evenings, the sky looking a lot like someone’s taken a paintbrush to it and permanently painted it a depressing colour of grey that’s never going to disappear. Carlos is either constantly overdressed or underdressed and the uncertainty of the days, the constant rain, and the stress he’s been under for a few weeks now has made him extremely tired.

Which is why he and TK’s had a fight. They don’t often do this, Carlos has the patience of a saint, he knows this, Owen’s told him that on numerous occasions when TK’s been a little difficult and Owen’s been struggling to not lose his own temper, even TK’s gratefully expressed that too on a few occasions. So yes, he is very aware of how calm and patient he can be. But today Carlos has had a bad day at work and he’s tired and it’s just his luck that today of all days clashes with one of TK’s bad days, where he is anxious and too wrapped up in his own head to really be able to read signals.

Carlos doesn’t fault TK for this, of course not, but when his boyfriend is being uncooperative and uncommunicative, and not having had the strength to not drink that fourth cup of coffee today, their moods are doomed to clash. And it turns into a fight over something really stupid that causes TK to slam the bedroom door shut and for Carlos to kind of want to cry as it rattles on its hinges, that’s how much he feels that everything is too much right now.

He’s bent over the stove, staring angrily at the uncooked chicken in the pan and wishes he could set it on fire or something, that would maybe make him feel fractionally better. Carlos really doesn’t want to fight, and he really doesn’t want to fight with TK, but even he has bad days where all signals go straight over the other one’s head and the answer ‘I’m fine’ with a foot bouncing unrelentlessly while hanging off the chair with a nose in phone, means that TK is definitely not fine, sometimes that doesn’t always translate for Carlos. Particularly not on a day like this.

He knows most of the signs and tells when TK is anxious, has been through one anxiety attack triggered by a nightmare with him where he might have remained totally collected on the outside while on the inside his heart broke in two because his boyfriend was on the floor telling him he couldn’t breathe and that image is doomed to haunt him for a long time. It was scary, but he’s seen panic before and he recognized the signs immediately and they talked through it afterwards and moved past it, well adjusted to deal with it in the future.

And TK isn’t selfish, he’s pretty good at reading Carlos’ in return, but not on the days where Carlos is strung so tightly he could snap in half due to days full of picking kids up from places where their parents are fighting with fists, bloody from the violence and almost always on something while the kids are hiding, their faces blank without tears because they’ve been through it too many times by then to know it doesn’t help. He doesn’t know what’s worse, that they’ve seen too much of this already, that it’s become so normalised for them they’ve already accepted it, or when they see it for the first time and Carlos is forced to gather them up in his arms, talk to them or sing to distract from the vicious yelling from the other room while child services are being called and the parents are dragged away in handcuffs screaming bloody murder. Yeah, sometimes he hates his job.

So, it’s been a bad day and coming home to a TK that is a nervous ball of tightly strung energy too, is not a good combination.

Carlos exhales, feels absolutely exhausted by now and he’s honestly ready to just go to sleep on the couch and forget about everything. He hears the bedroom door open, prepares himself for some short clipped words from TK informing him that he’s going home to his dad to sleep, instead, and this goes to show how upset and distracted he is, when TK steps in close and wraps his arms around him instead. He freezes for a moment, rendered shocked before he snaps out of it, covering TK’s hands with his own.

He’s about to turn around so he can hug back for real when he feels TK’s arms slip from his, hurt he turns to look at TK, but TK’s already taken his hand in his, tugs on it until Carlos follows him, and walks him over to the couch. Gently he pushes him down on it, and Carlos goes willingly, at first not understanding what TK is doing. He gets the hint that TK wants him to lie down though, and when he does TK wordlessly climbs on top of him, laying down, covering him with his body. Dumbstruck he puts his arms around TK, feels his calming breathing on top of him, and somehow he calms down himself. TK winds his own arms around him too and with the both of them on top of each other like this, it’s a snug fit on the small couch. But it doesn’t matter, having TK near calms him immediately.

“I’m sorry.” TK whispers. “I didn’t mean to be difficult.” Carlos shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay, I’m very sorry too.”

“I know work’s been a lot for you recently and I should have been more considerate, it’s just, it’s hard for me sometimes when I get stuck in my head to see that you’re struggling too.” He admits and Carlos nods, he understands.

“And I’m not leaving, I promise.” It makes Carlos stop for a moment, the words taking him by surprise because while it’s been hanging over them from the beginning that TK’s been scared that Carlos is going to leave him because he’s has got it into his head that he’s going to be too much and have too much baggage for it to be fair to Carlos to have to deal with it too, Carlos cannot help but feel the exact same at times as well. Especially when TK is upset and angry and on the rare occasions that they do fight, that he’ll leave. Not for long, but for a few hours and the thought of that is just too much for him sometimes that it makes him not think clearly, panicked into apathy almost.

“I’m in it for the long run I promise.” Carlos tightens his arms around him, breathes him in, feels the weight of TK ground him into the couch, and he focuses on that feeling of safety, allowing it to embrace him for a moment as he swallows down the tears.

“I know.” He whispers, hears his voice waver slightly. “I know, but it’s nice to hear you say it nonetheless.”

TK sits up, rests his elbow on either side of Carlos and wipes the escaping tear away gently, and kisses his cheek.

“I love you Carlos, I’m not leaving.”

“I know…”

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned and Carlos shrugs, not totally used to being on the receiving end of TK’s worry. It makes him feel a little odd but he’s also understanding TK’s own hesitancy to opening up to Carlos in the beginning of their relationship, it’s scary.

“Work has not been easy recently. It’s just been a lot of bad stuff involving kids and social services and drugs, it’s making me feel useless. These kids, they deserve better and most of them just want their parents to love them. Separating them like this feels inhumane.” He admits, shakes his head to prevent more tears from escaping.

TK nods but he winces and he has that rare look on his face, one Carlos knows means that he wants to protect him, wishes he could carry some of the burden for Carlos himself. It’s the same look he gets when he’s on call and he has to deal with a particularly difficult rescue, where instincts kick in and he will do everything he can to save the person.

It’s strange but Carlos recognises it’s deeply meaningful to be on the receiving end of it, Carlos can’t imagine there’s many people alive that TK cares this deeply about.

“I’m very very sorry about that.”

“Yeah...me too. But taking it out on you when you’re clearly not feeling your best either is not okay and I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to and I wasn’t exactly helping my case along by being inconsiderate.”

“Agreed then that we both made mistakes?” Carlos says, his lip twitching a little and TK nods, smile small.

“Yeah, agreed.” He leans forward and kisses Carlos’ nose, a soft gentle gesture and it lodges something fiercely in his throat for a moment, making him gulp down the tears.

But it makes him feel better too, and the tough and long day has started to diminish slightly by now when he feels warm and loved and comforted by the love of his life.

“Tell me about your day.” He tells TK and he huffs but smiles softly and nods, leans down again and while he talks he keeps placing butterfly light kisses on Carlos’ exposed skin, making his heart flutter in love.

He talks for a bit and Carlos hums and nods and doesn’t say much, starts to feel himself drifting off but feeling too tired to stop it.

…..

He wakes by the cascading sound of water against his windows, sits up confused as to where he is for a moment and why there is a blanket draped over him, the loud noise alerting him to the roaring storm outside. The living room light is off but the kitchen ones are on and there are two steaming plates of food standing on the counter, TK absent. He yawns, stretches and gets up in search of his boyfriend. It doesn’t take long, he comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Carlos’, a little loose around the arms. He smiles when he spots Carlos is up and comes close, wrapping his arms around him. He looks better Carlos notes, less burdened than when earlier.

“Hi.” He smiles. Carlos can’t help but smile back, loving it when he gets to see TK like this, completely at ease, facade gone, face open and soft looking in clothes that belong to him.

He feels his heart grow in size and he leans down, kisses his boyfriend and hopes it conveys everything he feels that he can’t find the words for at the moment. TK seems to appreciate it and somehow understand it too, he hums, wraps his arms tighter around his neck and gives in to the kiss completely. He could do this forever, but he’s hungry and whatever there is that TK’s made smells lovely, so he breaks the kiss and TK kisses his nose before he steps back, but only a little, still keeping close to Carlos.

“You cooked.” He comments lifting an eyebrow. TK shrugs, a little unsure.

“Yeah, I have no idea what you had planned to make before the fight but you fell asleep and I thought you might appreciate some food when you woke up.” Carlos' heart melts, he loves him so much.

TK looks back and Carlos kisses him again, taking the breath out of him as TK’s surprise becomes evident. Carlos steps back and TK looks dazed, he blinks and Carlos smiles.

“Thank you, I love it.” And a shy little smile breaks across TK’s smile, relief mixing with love.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I am starving.”

“Good.” They step apart to sit down and the evening that started out horrendously turns into something soft and beautiful instead, both of them tucked away into a little bubble of light while it rains heavily outside, unbeknownst to them.

After dinner and the dishes have been cleaned away they move to the couch again, Carlos also having changed out of his jeans to fully enjoy the downtime. An episode of Criminal Minds is playing on TV, not Carlos’ favourite thing to watch when he wants to relax, but TK enjoys it and has taken to asking Carlos questions about what they do being realistic or not.

He’s not paying attention to the episode though, his attention is on TK more than anything else right now, his head in Carlos’ lap, eyes attentive on the screen, his hair soft and loose, having been left unstyled after the shower, breathing slow and calm. He’s stroking a hand up and down his arm, making goosebumps erupt on his skin, something he delights a little too much in doing.

The sleeve of the shirt has risen up, and there is one of TK’s many different tattoos. This one is the SOS one, the world as the O and it’s pretty, Carlos actually likes it a lot, can’t help but be curious about it too. He moves his hand over it, fingers gently hovering above it until he has TK’s full attention. It takes a while for him to notice that the stroking has stopped and he moves his head, frowning slightly.

“What is it?” He asks, Carlos smiles, a little cheekily.

“What about this one.” He taps gently at the underside of his upper arm and TK’s eyes move to it. When he gets what Carlos is asking he huffs but he nimbly moves and lies down on his back, meeting Carlos’ eyes. Carlos gets a pillow from behind himself, motions for TK to move and puts it under his head making it more comfortable for him.

“Okay this one really doesn’t have as deep a meaning as the other one, just to warn you.”

“It doesn’t have to be deep.” He reassures. “I just want to know more about you.” TK’s eyes go soft for a moment and he draws in a sharp breath.

“I love you so much.” He whispers and Carlos smiles brilliantly, leans forward and kisses TK.

The angle is all wrong and kissing upside down really isn’t as sexy as they make it out to be in films, not that it matters, the action, softly kissing someone he loves is all that matters.

“I love you too.” He sits back.

“Okay, well this really isn’t that deep. But you know I love the ocean?” Carlos nods.

“Well I went on a trip with some friends to California for a weekend when I was younger and there was this activism group that was protesting and advocating for the protection of our seas so I stopped and talked with one of the guys and he was really passionate about it. I learnt a lot from him and I guess it just kick started my own passion for the sea.”

“Yeah?”

“But the tattoo came after a drunk night out, same trip though, where I flirted with the tattoo artist for long enough to make him agree to do it even though I very obviously wasn’t sober.”

“You little menace.” TK flashes him a cheeky grin, clearly proud of the achievement.

“Well the tattoo turned out nice though.” He strokes his thumb appreciatively over it and TK nods.

“It did.”

“What happened with the dude?”

“I went home with him for the night.” Carlos snorts and rolls his eyes.

“Of course you did.” TK chuckles.

“But yes the tattoo turned out nice, it really did. Not that I am against putting tattoos or piercings or stuff on your body that don’t have any meaning. But I guess it’s nice when some of them do.”

“It’s art, I like it on you, adds another layer to you, as well as making you hot as hell.”

“Yeah?” TK lifts an eyebrow, intrigued now, fishing for details, wanting more. Carlos chuckles but he can’t really resist TK when he looks at him like he does now, biting at his lip, knowing of course exactly what he’s doing to Carlos.

“You are a menace.” TK chuckles, sits up, easily turning around planting himself in Carlos’ lap, kicking away the pillow.

“Yep, but you love it.”

“I do.” He says leaning forward, meeting TK in the middle.

They don’t last too long on the couch because after becoming an actual well adjusted couple both of them prefer having sex in the bedroom, it makes for much more intimacy than a quickie on this small couch do for either of them these days. Not that they are exactly opposed to having sex a bit all over the place at Carlos’, but after the evening they’ve had, the bedroom it defintiely is.

Carlos turns off the TV, carries his boyfriend easily enough to his bedroom and closes the door behind them.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tattoo fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #fanfiction #my writings #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #carlos reyes #tk strand #9-1-1 lone star

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reddrobins · 4 years

Text

an unforgettable love [d.wayne]

OLDER!DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

REQUESTS: Hi! Hewo! How about a Damian Wayne x reader who has amnesia and Damian is so devastated by it and eventually either the reader just falls back in love with Damian or gets their memories back idk you choose. Take care and stay safe!

SUMMARY: When reader suddenly develops amnesia from n accident, Damian takes it upon himself to get you back. Even if it takes weeks or months or even years, he will do anything to get his beloved back.

“Let me through.”

The secretary’s eyes widened as she looked at the boy in front of her. There stood the wealthiest teen in Gotham, Damian Wayne.

Barely able to compose a response, she asked, “I’m sorry?”

This seemed to annoy the Wayne teen as he put a hand up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I said, may I please be let in. I need to go to room 715.”

The woman at the desk, whos nametag read Gretchen, typed something onto her computer and then frowned, “I’m sorry sir, this room is only open to family.”

Damian looked at her blankly, “I am aware of that. Now, will you let me in?”

Gretchen raised a brow at him, “Are you family to his patient?”

Leaning over the counter, Damian stared her down, “I am the most like family she has, now will you let me in or do I have to remind you who owns the hospital? I could very well get my father in-”

“No! No, all is fine Mr Wayne.” She blurted out, breaking her calm composure, “I’ll take you there right now.”

Damian gave a scoff, following the lady to room 715. To your room.

As soon as she opened the door, Damian rushed in and took a knee by your side. “Beloved.” He spoke as he softly grabbed your hand.

You looked at him oddly, like you had never seen him before. You even retracted your hand from his hold.

“Beloved?” Damian said again, though this time questionably.

You made eye contact with the nurse at the door, a very confused look plastered on your face.

“Mr Wayne, do you mind if I speak to you? In the hall, preferably.”

Damian nodded to the nurse and stood up, following her outside.

She quietly shut the door behind them and then looked up at the teen, “When the bomb went off at City Hall, I’m afraid that a piece of shrapnel hit this patient on the head. That mixed with the dose of trauma she has experience caused her to experience amnesia. She doesn't know who she is… or who you are.”

The Wayne teens world stopped. You don't know who he is?

Damian zoned out after that, how could you, his beloved, not remember him? Heart breaking into pieces, he slowly made his way back into the hospital room.

You tore your eyes away from the television, watching him walk towards you, eventually taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“(Y/N),” He said softly.

You nodded, That was your name. That's all you knew.

“Yes. (Y/N).” You replied back.

Though usually maintaining an ice-cold coolness about him, watching you struggle to remember made him feel… hopeless.

“Do you know who I am, Bel- (Y/N)?” He asked, wanting nothing more to reach out and grab your hand.

You bit your lip in contemplation, trying your hardest to search your memory for any ounce of those sparkling green eyes.

“N-No… Should I?” You saw the pain in his face, you didn't know why but it broke you to see any angst bestowed on him.

Sighing, Damian gave a defeated nod, “Yes, yeah we, we’re together. We’re partners, (Y/N).”

Your breath caught, this, was your boyfriend?

“Oh…” Was the only response you could squeeze out, then, “I’m sorry.”

A bitter laugh escaped Damian, “No, don’t be sorry. You are fine, my lo- (Y/N). I know its hard. I won’t pressure you anymore.”

Seeing how lost the situation was, Damian stood up from his spot, not wanting to bother you any more than he had.

A hand latched onto him, he looked down and made contact with your pleading face, “Please,” You said softly, “Please stay. If you are who you say you are… I- I want you to stay.”

A small smile crept up to the young Waynes face. Damian nodded and sat back down, his hand moving to interlock with yours.

Though skeptical and resistant, you let him soothe the back of your palm, even finding yourself leaning into the touch.

“Help me.” was all you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Damian looked at you questioningly, “Help you?”

Nodding, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “Please, help me remember. If I just found out I had a boyfriend, imagine how many other things I can't remember. I need your to help me… Damian?”

His hand stopped its movements, he hadn’t said his name, nor had the nurse. You knew his name.

“You said my name. You remember my name, (Y/N).”

Reluctantly you nodded, “Things have been coming back to me in pieces throughout the day… but you’ve seemed to jog my thoughts. Stay with me?”

Damian slid off the bed and took the chair next to you, that way he was eye to eye with you. “I swear on my life hat I will do anything in my power to get you back. I need you as you need me, beloved.”

Blushing at the nickname, you gave a small smile, “You say that often, that our thing, right?”

The raven-haired teen couldn’t help the smile growing on his face, “Yes. You’re my beloved, always.”

There, you two stayed for a while, Damian rubbing your hand as you thought long and hard, trying everything in your power to remember your life. And for the first time in a few days, the situation seemed hopeful.

Damian hadn’t noticed he’d fallen asleep until his phone rang. Cautious, as not to wake you, he snuck out of the room, answering the call.

“What do you need Grayson?” He asked into the receiver.

His older brother spoke, “Hey Dames, was just checking in. Bruce told me you visited (Y/N) today.”

“He told you correctly then, I’m still here. Is something amiss?” Damian asked.

Dick shook his head on the other line, “No, everything’s under control. Just wanted to see how you were doing. And I guess, how (Y/N) is doing too.”

“Fine.” Damian first said, then retracted his lie, “Well, not fine. As fine as someone with amnesia could possibly be. Shes slowly regaining memory though which is progress. I am to stay the night with her, let father know.”

“I asked how you were doing too, Damian.” Dick said, not confident that his little brother was as calm as he gave off.

“I'm not the one in a hospital bed.”

Dick sighed, knowing that he wouldn't get anything else out of Damian, even if he just wanted to help. “Alright,” He said defeatedly, “If you need anything, you know who to call.”

And with that, Damian hung up the phone, making his way back to your side. To his surprise, you were awake, watching something on the television.

“Beloved?” Damian questioned.

You turned to him, eyes wide, “That's your father.” you said, finger pointed to the screen.

Damian furrowed his brows, why would Bruce be on TV at this hour?

He turned his attention to where you were pointing and almost dropped his phone.

There on the screen, you pointed to Batman.

“They only had poorly made sandwiches and carton juices. I didn't feel like putting you through more trauma, so I took the liberty and ordered us food from the Wayne Enterprises cafeteria, it should arrive any- (Y/N)?”

Damian had just returned from his trek to the hospitals ‘restaurant’, only to come back to see you out of bed, staring out the window.

You spun around at his call, a sad smile on your face. “We used to have picnics there,” you spoke, pointing to Gotham Park. “You’d bring your dog…”

“Titus,” Damian filled in the blank.

You nodded a thanks, “Titus, and you’d play fetch while I ate whatever Alfred packed us.”

Damian stared at you, this was the most you had remembered this whole week.

Before he could even ask you how you knew, your eyes brightened, “Alfred! Your butler, how is he? Does he know I’m here… Oh, I miss him, he was always so nice.”

The other teen cleared his throat, still in awe of your memory, “Yes, he knows you’re here. But, beloved, when did you recall all of this?”

Biting your lip, you shrugged, “I, I don't know? I just looked at the park and everything came flooding back.”

You saw Damian’s face, did he look… disappointed? Quickly, you tried to save your statement, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, Damian.” His name rolled off your tongue like natural.

Damian walked towards you, putting his hands in yours, “Never apologize for anything. You’ve done nothing to upset me, love, just, you caught me off guard.” Then, “Let’s get you back in bed for lunch, yeah?”

Nodding, you let him lead you away from the window.

“I'm requesting to take patient (Y/N) out on a brief trip.”

The desks worker looked up from her computer, Damian recognized her - it was Gretchen. “I’m sorry Mr Wayne, patients in the emergency wards cannot be lead outside.”

Damian once more leaned over the desk, “Then take her out of the ward. Put her in a normal room. Do anything, I’m taking her out of this building one way or another.”

Sighing, Gretchen typed away at her keyboard, “How old is the patient?”

“18,” Damian scoffed, Shouldn’t the hospital know this?

“Mr Wayne, if the patients 18, they can sign themselves out. Should I get the discharge papers ready?”

“That would be much appreciated.” Damian said, “I apologize for my former outburst.”

“Damian where are we going?” You laughed as he tugged your hand, dragging you along a small dirt path.

It had been a week since you were in the hospital, Damian took it upon himself to take care of you at the manor, setting up Dicks old room to be a small getaway for the both of you.

“Slow down, I can't keep up!” This had been the first time you had giggled in a while. It felt nice, especially with Damian by your side.

“We’re almost there, my love, just hold on.” He said, a smile behind his teasing eyes.

Finally, the two of you stopped. You took in the sight in front of you. There is a clearing on the grounds of Wayne Manor sat two benches, a small picnic table in between them, rose bushes surrounding the back.

“Damian this is, this is beautiful.” You looked up at him, “Did you do this?”

He shook his head, a burst of bright laughter escaping him, “No beloved, you did this.”

Your mouth dropped open. You did this? For what?

It was as if Damian knew the questions in your head, “Our first date. You said you wanted it to be special. And you knew that I was not the romantic I am today - so you took the job of making us a quaint vocational place. This is our spot, the location of our first-”

“I love you.” You finished for him.

Damian sighed, he hadn’t heard that in a while.

“Yes, that's where we said our first I love yo-”

“No-” You interrupted him, “No, I mean, I love you. Like right now, Damian Wayne, I love you.”

Damian smiled, softly squeezing your hand, “And I you, Beloved.”

“I mean it differently this time. I-” You looked up, trying to gather your thoughts, “I have re-fallen in love with you Damian. You helped me regain my memories and though they’re still fuzzy, I know one thing is fact. I love you and I will now and forever. You’re my Damian Wayne.”

His breath had caught in his throat, for the first time, eloquently spoken Damian Wayne was gone and love-struck puppy Damian Wayne was present. “I love you as well.” Was all he could muster.

Going on your tiptoes, you gently placed your lips to his. Damian’s hands found your waist and he pulled you close, the two of you fit like a perfect puzzle.

You pulled away, resting your forehead on his chest, “It would take a lot more than amnesia to forget how kissing you feels.”

Damian laughed lightly, placing his chin atop your head, “I don't think I will ever be able to forget what kissing you feel like.”

Smiling into his shirt you spoke, And you never will. I’m right here and will always be.”

Damian pecked your head, pulling away to look you in the eyes, “The same goes for be beloved. I'm here, always.”

#older! damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #older!damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #robin #robin x reader #batman #batfamily imagine #batman imagine #batman x reader #batfamily

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luckysevenwrites · 4 years

Text

I broke my arm playing Monopoly

You never thought that you would find yourself in the ER all because of a stupid board game. But here you were getting a cast put on your arm. The only upside to this whole situation was that your boyfriend Kun didn’t know about it...yet.

If there was ever a time in your life where you wished that you could die it would be now. You looked down at your arm in a cast then back up at the doctor who was working away at finishing up the cast. You never would have thought that an innocent board game would lead to you being in the ER and getting a cast put on. This was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“Are you in a lot of pain Y/n?” Lucas is focused on your arm, his arms tightly crossed against his chest and his face scrunched up with worry. He was the one who had gotten you here. While the other two participants in this accident stayed behind.

“It hurts but I’ll be okay. I’m just embarrassed to be here. Thankfully Kun doesn’t know.”

“That’s true if he knew that you were hurt, he’d be freaking out. What story are going to tell him? It’s not like you can hide a giant neon colored cast.”

Maybe going with a neon colored cast wasn’t the way to go. But like Lucas had said there was no way you were going to be able to hide it and you mind as well have fun with the cast. Maybe you could just avoid Kun for the next few weeks coming up with excuses of work and a family emergency.

“I don’t know but I have some time to come up with a story,” Clearly you had spoken to soon as you heard the sound of a very familiar voice. You and Lucas widen your eyes at each other and listen as his voice get closer to the two of you.

Going through your mental list of everyone who would have called him you narrowed it down to Hendry or YangYang. Probably YangYang, you were will to bet he was thinking that if he called Kun he would be in less trouble, and Kun would not be as mad at him, and the rest of his members for sending his girlfriend to the ER. Did not matter though, because you were going to kill him and the rest of them for calling him and putting you in this even more embarrassing situation.

“Y/n, there you are,” Kun sighed as he rushed towards you. The doctor steps aside allowing Kun to wrap you in his arms. “I came as soon as I heard. I cannot believe that you had to go to the ER. What happened?”

“It’s fine Kun. Just a little accident. Really, it’s nothing,” you try to assure him. But he is not convinced considering you’re in the ER and are getting a cast put on.

“What did you do to her?” Kun accuses Lucas. Shockingly for once Lucas was an innocent bystander but that didn’t stop Kun from shooting him daggers.

“I didn’t do anything! I was just the one who brought her here.”

“She broke her arm. It’s not too serious she’ll have to be in a cast for a couple of weeks and will probably be in pain for the next few days,” the doctor pipes in. Kun turns his full attention to him and listens to all the instructions that he is giving him. The whole time he keeps you tucked in close to his side.

“Thank you, doctor. Is she able to go now?” Kun ask once the doctor finishes explaining your care.

“She is all good to go. And Y/n I hope you won the game,” your doctor smirks. You can feel your face turning red and Kun cocks his head to the side in question.

“What game? How did you get hurt?”

“Kun can we talk about this later. My arm hurts and I really just want to go home and rest,” you pout, hoping that Kun will drop it and just take you home.

“Okay, come on let’s get you home. Thanks for bringing her here Lucas. And sorry for accusing you of being the reason that she broke her arm,” Guilty Kun admits.

“No problem, get some rest Y/n,” Lucas gives you a gentle squeeze and leaves you in Kun’s care.

Kun helps you off the exam table and leads you to his car. The car ride home is quiet, and your focus is on trying to find a comfortable way to rest your arm. Once you arrive at your place Kun waste no time in getting you into bed and elevating your arm. He then disappears into your bathroom and returns a few seconds later with a class of water and some pain pills. You take the pills and try to find a comfortable spot in your bed.

Kun crawls in and pulls you into him. He starts to hum quietly while he plays with your hair. You close your eyes and try to focus on Kun’s humming instead of the pain in your arm. After a few moments you start to drift off and before you know it you are sound asleep. When you wake up a few hours later it’s to an empty bed. You blink away sleep and look around for Kun. You hear movement outside your bedroom, before going in search of Kun you make a stop at the bathroom and down some more pain pills.

You find Kun in the kitchen making what looks like soup. He has some music softly playing in the background and he is lost in his own world focusing on cooking. You watch him for a few seconds before you make your way into the kitchen and towards Kun. You place your hand on Kun’s shoulder and push up on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. Kun smiles at you and gives you a quick kiss back.

“Did you sleep okay? Are you in pain right now?” Your boyfriend frets over you.

“I slept just fine. And my arm hurts a little bit, but I already took some pain pills, and they should kick in soon.”

“Good, why don’t you go relax on the couch, elevate your arm, and I’ll bring you some soup in a little bit.”

“Okay, make sure you bring some crackers,” Kun scrunches his nose at that, he thought it was gross that you crushed your cracker and put it in your soup but, you thought it was great and made the soup taste better. While Kun compared it to eating mushed up baby food.

While you focused on getting comfortable on the couch, Kun dished up soup for the both of you and brought it out to the living room. He then went about finding a movie for the two of you to watch before he settled into the couch next to you. It was after you were both done eating and about halfway through the movie that Kun brought up your arm again.

“Are you ready to tell me how you ended up breaking your arm?”

“Only if you tell me who called you and what they told you,” you stalled hoping that whoever did call him gave him some lame story on how you ended up breaking your arm.

“YangYang called,” you knew it! “and all he said was that you were hanging out with them and got hurt. That they had to take you to the ER and that I should head over to the ER to pick you up. YangYang also said that they were sorry. Which makes me wonder how much of it is their fault.”

Well that didn’t leave you with much. The least YangYang could have done for you was come up with a story on how you ended up in the ER instead of leaving it up to you to tell him how you had broken your arm. He also could have not called your boyfriend and you could have just avoid him for the next few weeks and threatened the rest of the boy into secrecy and Kun then never would have even known that you broke your arm.

“I broke it hanging out with YangYang, Hendry, and Lucas,” you told Kun. He just stared at you waiting for you to continue.

“See I sort of hit my arm on the coffee table and that was how it broke.”

“How did you hit your arm on the coffee table?” Why did Kun have to be so curious couldn’t he just leave it at you hitting your arm on the coffee table?

“Well, I was trying to tackle YangYang,” you confess.

“Why were you tackling YangYang?”

“Because he was cheating!” You practically yell. Kun’s eyes widen at you. You throw your one good arm up in the arm before slamming it back down on your leg.

“We were playing Monopoly and YangYang was the banker and I caught him stealing money from the bank. And the little brat would not admit to it and tried to hide the money by shoving it down his shirt. And I couldn’t let him get away with it! Someone had to stop him!”

You yammer on not even paying attention to Kun who is now trying desperately to not burst out into a fit of laughter. Your too caught up in your story thought and getting upset all over again at YangYang for cheating to even notice that Kun is finding all this hilarious.

“So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and jumped across the coffee table at him. I miss calculated and instead of landing completely on YangYang I landed mostly on the coffee table and hit just right to break my bone.”

It is at this point that Kun loses it and can no longer keep his laughter in. He is laughing so hard at your story that tears are rolling down his face, “I can’t believe you broke your arm playing Monopoly!”

“Kun it’s not funny YangYang was cheating!”

“You’re right it’s not funny,” Kun nods while biting his lip to keep himself from laughing.

“I was winning too, and we had to stop the game all because I had to be taken into the ER.” You whine. Kun coos at you as he pulls you into him.

“I’m sure they will all declare you as the winner,” Kun assures you.

“It’s not the same as actually winning. We’re going to have to have a rematch.”

“Maybe I should be there to supervise,” Kun starts, “and I think I am also going to have to have talk with all of them about playing fair.”

“And punish YangYang for cheating and calling you,” you throw in.

“I’m not punishing YangYang for calling me.”

“Kun,” you pull back from him and pout “I didn’t even want you to know I was in the ER and I really didn’t want you to know about how I ended up in the ER. But YangYang just had to go and call you and he didn’t come up with a cover story for me.”

“Y/n you do realize that you could have made up a story right now instead of telling me what really happened.”

He did have a point. You could have lied but the problem with that was that you would have to call three people and convince them to go along with your story and knowing those three they wouldn’t be able to keep the lie going. They would want to tease you about this and would slip up in front of Kun.

“I could have but we all know that those three can’t keep a secret to save their lives. Unless it benefits them.”

“True, but I’m sure that you will think of a way to make YangYang pay.”

You would YangYang’s days were numbered, you thought as you leaned back into Kun. Thoughts of how you were going to torture YangYang were dancing in your head. You were coming up with some pretty good ideas too.

“Keep it legal,” Kun tells you before kissing the top of your head.

“Fine,” you agree and place on kiss on Kun’s chest.

He chuckles and gives you a squeeze and you go back to thinking of ways to torture YangYang. It was while you are thinking of torture methods that you had to admit there was one upside to breaking your arm. You were getting a lot of cuddles from Kun and he was spoiling you. Maybe you would not torture YangYang to badly since you were getting a lot of attention from your boyfriend.

#wayv #wayv kun #kun x you #kun x y/n #kun x reader #wayv oneshot #wayv drabble #wayv drabbles #wayv fluff

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lynne-monstr · 4 years

Text

Writers Month 2019: Day 17: Accidental Baby Acquisition (malec)

requested by anonymous

(note that i cannot write children so no actual human babies will appear in this.)

summary: In the event this monumentally stupid stunt gets him gets killed, Magnus only hopes Alec has the good sense to lie to his friends about the cause of his death. He knows for a fact more than one of those bastards has money on him dying of his own bleeding heart.

ao3 link

“Alec, no!” Magnus lunges, grabbing Alec’s sword arm before he can attack.

Alec twitches beneath his hand but doesn’t shake him off. Later, Magnus will marvel that he’s learned to trust Alec so deeply he'd put himself in the path of a Nephilim weapon without hesitation. But that’s a thought for later. For now, he’s more concerned about what he’s come home to.

It had been such a nice date night, but it already feels like a distant memory.The perils of being a powerful warlock with an equally powerful boyfriend.

All the lights in the loft are off save for the entranceway at their backs. In front of them, the living room is dim, lit only by the faint glow of the city’s light pollution filtering in from the balcony windows. Everything is wreathed in shadow. Magnus feels the weight of his glamour dropping and the room sharpens into the full spectrum of night. Which is when he sees it. In the darkened depths of the living room, there’s a darker smudge under the coffee table.

He and Alec aren’t alone.

There’s something in the room with them, lying in wait beneath the furniture. Magnus tastes the air and the hair on the back of his necks stands up. With his natural vision, he can see what his instincts warned him of, what Alec saw with his heightened Shaowhunter senses. There’s a creature pressed tight against the far leg of the coffee table. But he also sees why he stopped Alec’s attack. The creature is huddled as far away as it can get without leaving the shelter of the furniture.

It isn’t attacking, or preparing an ambush. It’s cowering.

Something that feels like a memory curdles in Magnus’ stomach. He hates to see anyone or anything cower.

Beneath his grip, the muscles of Alec’s forearm twitch. He shifts on the balls of his feet but doesn’t interfere. Warmth expands in Magnus’ chest. Alec’s battle instincts must be screaming but he’s willing to yield to Magnus’ expertise in this particular area.

Edom.

There’s an Edomei in their home.

The Edomei is curled into a ball of pitch-black scales. Its very presence warps the light around it, making the space under the coffee table darker than it should rightfully appear. A pair of equally black wings shoot from the creature's back. The wings look wrong—crooked and grotesque, deformed and hanging in ways that make Magnus shift in discomfort.

“It’s injured.” Alec’s voice is soft, though his body remains a coiled spring. “What’s it doing here?” he adds, keeping his voice low, as if the thing can understand English.

Maybe it can. Magnus has never looked too deeply into the native inhabitants of his homeland aside from strengths, weaknesses, and hunting patterns. The only thing he knows about these creatures is how to kill them.

“I don’t know. It’s not like I invited it over for drinks,” Magnus whispers back. He swallows down the rising dread at the reminder of the place he once called home. He’d prefer to forget this part of his heritage but here it is, not even on his doorstep but inside his home.

Alec, his wonderful Alexander, attempts to lighten the mood. “Well, you did once tell me you made the best cocktails in North America. Maybe word spread.”

Magnus lets out a silent huff, and gives Alec’s arm a squeeze. It never fails to amaze him that Alec can read him so well. He clings to the comfort as he makes his decision on what to do with his uninvited guest. His logical mind says to kill it. The rest of him balks at the thought of killing a child. Because that’s what this is, a tiny, young Edomei that somehow found its way to his loft.

Slowly, he releases his grip on Alec and takes a tentative step forward.

The Edomei under his coffee table backpedals in a flurry of wings. It makes it about three steps before listing off balance, stumbling onto its side with a pained cry. Its wings flap uselessly and a thready screech fills the air.

Magnus is moving before he can convince himself what a terrible idea this is.

“It’s okay,” he says, walking forward with small, tentative steps.

It was never really a decision at all. A child is a child, regardless of species. He only hopes that in the event this monumentally stupid stunt gets him gets killed, Alec has the good sense to lie to his friends about his cause of death. He knows for a fact that more than one of those bastards has money on him dying of his own bleeding heart.

Behind him, Alec keeps pace, hovering at his shoulder. His unsheathed blade glints in the evening light but he doesn’t raise it.

As Magnus gets closer, he can hear the Edomei breathing in weak squeals. Its scaled chest continues to heave, faster and faster as he kneels beside it, a string of nonsense reassurances spilling from his lips in the same low, hushed tones that work well on all types of children.

Around them, the loft is perfectly still.

The eyes that meet Magnus’ gaze are deep red with no pupil but he gets the sense of being studied by a predator. A very small one in need of help, but a predator nonetheless. Magnus doesn’t flinch. This tiny Edomei is hardly the only predator in the room.

After a beat, it lowers its head.

The urge to let out a breath is palpable but Magnus resists. No showing weakness now or it may be the last thing he does.

He leans in for a closer look. The small dragon-like creature isn’t just dark in color but filthy. Caked between the scales are layers upon layers of dirt and grime. Magnus wrinkles his nose. It must have dragged itself through half the gutters of Brooklyn in search of shelter.

“Alright, let’s patch you up. This rug is a lost cause but we can still salvage the hardwood if we work fast.” There’s no response, which is a shame but ultimately not a surprise. He’s not sure if it’s because the Edomei doesn’t understand human language, or because the denizens of his father’s realm don’t have a sense of humor. Either is equally likely.

Raising a hand, he prepares to summon a ball of magic to his aid.

“Magnus be careful,” Alec interrupts before he can cast the spell. He’s in a defensive stance at Magnus’ shoulder, blade poised to plunge into the Edomei’s heart at the slightest provocation. “You don’t know why it’s here. It could kill us both the moment you heal it.”

They both remember the battle at the beach, the sheer amount of devastation even a single Edomei can wreak. Even a small one—practically a baby, Magnus realizes with an ache—is incredibly dangerous.

“It’s a child, Alexander. It’s here because it has nowhere else to go.”

Alec’s eyes go a little bit soft, his blade slowly lowering though he doesn’t drop his guard. His Alexander has always had a soft spot for the young.

“It must have come through that portal and escaped detection all this time. Unsurprising, considering its size. When it got hurt and tried to go home, the portal no longer existed and there was no magic for it to follow back to Edom. I suppose it found my magic instead and traced it here.” Magnus swallows down the memories of filthy alleys and rancid food and the absolute knowledge that no one in the world cared for him enough to save him. “An easy mistake to make, considering where my magic comes from.”

A warm hand settles on his shoulder. “You’re nothing like him, Magnus.”

“I know,” he says, and isn’t that something, that those are words he can say without a hint of sarcasm.

He spent his entire life doubting, convinced that there was no atoning for the sins of his past. He still has his moments of weakness, but he can’t deny the impact of Alec’s stalwart acceptance. In this moment, he’s intensely, absurdly grateful that he trusted Alec enough to take that leap and tell him of his heritage. To trust the man he loves with his most closely guarded and shameful secret.

Alec’s hand falls away and Magnus doesn’t need to look to know he’s readying himself for a fight if things go wrong. “Do what you have to do. I’ll cover you.”

Before he can regret his choice, Magnus sends out a stream of magic into the Edomei’s mangled wings.

This time, the creature’s cry is pure excitement. The moment the last of the hollow bones knit together, it launches itself into the air, circling the remnants of magic coming off Magnus’ fingers. Magnus nearly blasts it but years of helping untrained warlocks control their magic stays his hand.

Alec steps in close but doesn’t attack, still following Magnus’ lead.

Following a hunch, Magnus shoots out a few harmless sparks. The the Edomei flies after it, landing in a tangle of wings on the far end of Magnus’ couch. It bounces on the cushion, trying to grab at the dancing points of bright blue magic. When that doesn’t work it breathes out a tiny jet of fire, no larger than the flickering flame of a lighter. Magnus presses his lips together, not wanting to laugh and scare the creature. His resolve nearly breaks when he looks over at Alec, whose eyes are wide, a lopsided smile painted across his face as he watches what should be a fearsome beast pounce on bits of magic.

“My poor couch,” Magnus laments with a frown, sending out a couple more bursts of magic. Some of it races around the Edomei, the rest erases the tiny burn marks from the upholstery. At the same time he he spares a burst of power to gradually brighten the lights in the room. He's getting tired of not seeing in color.

Alec presses his lips together but can’t hide his amusement. “We’re keeping it, aren’t we?” The words are resigned but there’s a hopeful tone in his voice that tells Magnus he’s just as enamored with their unexpected visitor as Magnus is. His voice turns contemplative as he adds, “I wonder why this one is so different than the others.”

“Well, we did save it. Maybe it’s grateful,” Magnus says, though he’s not convinced at his own glib answer.

“Or maybe there’s nothing inherently evil about being from Edom,” Alec replies, pointedly. “Maybe the other Edomei were taught how to be destructive and this one never learned how to hurt people.”

Magnus can’t help himself, he leans in and kisses Alec. Just a light press of lips but enough to let him know how much his words mean.

They both tense for a split second when the Edomei flies at them but it merely settles on Magnus’ shoulder.

“It needs a name,” Alec says, watching the two of them with a fond expression that’s usually reserved for Magnus himself.

“He needs a name,” Magnus corrects. He considers whether or not to be jealous of Alec’s affection and decides against it. The Edomei is adorable, after all.

As if it can sense his thoughts, his new shoulder companion gives another happy noise and plops it’s head down to rest in what was until that very moment a perfectly styled hairdo.

Mischief lights up Alec’s face, now clearly visible in the well lit room. “How about Michelangelo, since he’s clearly a master artisan.” He points to Magnus’ hair, which has become a birds-nest in an almost literal sense. “And now the next time you try to tell me you shared quarters with Michelangelo, it will actually be true.” One corner of his mouth turns up, clearly pleased with himself.

Magnus pretends to pout. “Are you insulting my flirting?” He still remembers the look of confusion that pickup line had earned him from Alec in those early days. Nothing like the smile that lights up his face now, or the warm glint in his eyes that Magnus can feel all the way down to his bones. He pretends to pout, for old time’s sake. “Fine, but if he tries to crawl into our bed at night, you have only yourself to blame.”

Alec grins in satisfaction. “Michelangelo it is.”

The Edomei kneads its claws into the expensive fabric of Magnus’ silk shirt. Magnus grumbles about Versace but his heart isn’t in it. “You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”

The tiny creature flaps its wings, stretching out its long neck and letting out a high-pitched honking noise completely at odds with its small frame. Magnus assumes it’s some form of agreement and scratches its belly in reassurance.

It looks like there were going to be three of them in the loft for the foreseeable future.

#shadowhunters #malec #malec fanfic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #lynne writes fic #writersmonth2019 #i've had this in my drafts for so long and i finally untangled the mess of it!#sorry for no babies in this fic but that is not a thing i can do #i can however do baby animals!

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clumsyclifford · 4 years

Note

Hey so like. Perhaps it was my birthday and I would k!ll for some emotional support malum. And number four from the list of ways to say I love you is really speaking to me. "Come here. Let me fix it." So much potential im obsessed <3 - twww!ink

gfhfldfkmgjd thank you for sending this as an ask after i asked you to send it as an ask adri <3 that was a lot of words that start with a okay let’s move swiftly on, happy late birthday my love

read it here on ao3

The bed feels wrong. Calum waves his arm around and diagnoses the problem: it’s empty apart from him.

That’s definitely not ideal.

He groggily opens his eyes, turning his head tiredly to glance at the clock. 5:45am. As he’s squinting around the room in displeasure, the door quietly opens.

“Mike?”

It’s Michael, and he pauses at the doorway, then slowly shuts it behind him. “Sorry, babe,” he whispers through the darkness. “Honestly tried to be quiet.”

“You…” Calum shakes his head, trying to clear some of the sleep from it. “You were. I woke up on my own.”

“You?” Michael chuckles softly. “Woke up on your own?”

Calum makes a face at him. Then he frowns. “Why are you awake right now?” And then, “Why are you dressed so nice?”

“I have my presentation today,” Michael says, and Calum feels like an idiot for forgetting. The presentation, right. Only the thing Michael’s been stressing nonstop about for weeks. “Just thought I’d get up a bit early, practice presenting, get a coffee or something like that.”

“Michael,” Calum says hoarsely, “it’s quarter to six. Your class isn’t until half eight.”

“Yeah,” Michael says, shifting nervously. “I know.”

“So come back to bed,” Calum says, making grabby hands at Michael across the room, “and you can wake up in an hour and a half and worry about it then. You’ll make yourself crazy.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Michael admits, looking down at his feet.

Calum sighs. He’d like Michael’s presentation to be done already so that Michael can return to having a normal sleeping schedule, instead of staying up until the witching hours of the night and only going to bed upon incessant nagging from Calum. Last night he’d only come to bed because Calum had pressed him, pointing out that he’d no doubt do a better presentation on more sleep. Michael had conceded with concerning ease, but now Calum wonders if he’d even gotten any sleep at all.

“Tell me you slept some.”

“Yeah, I did,” Michael says. “Just not very well, and, you know. I’m just nervous. I’ll be fine after the presentation, but I just…I don’t know.”

“Michael,” Calum whines. He doesn’t really mean to whine, but he’s tired and he doesn’t have class at all today and he’d hoped to spend most of it asleep. “Come on. Please come back to bed. Even if you don’t sleep, it’s better for you to just lie down and pretend.”

Michael shakes his head. “I — I have to practice.”

“You’ve rehearsed this presentation so much even I could give it,” Calum says plainly. “Mikey.”

Michael runs a hand through his hair, then immediately winces. “Fuck, I — I had it all nice and now it’s —”

Calum personally thinks it looks way cuter like this, mussed up with a little personality, but he can see that this might be the thing that sends Michael into a spiral unless he’s careful. “It’s fine, Mike. Come here. Let me fix it.”

“I can just —”

“Come here,” Calum repeats, shuffling into a sitting position. He mournfully glances at the clock again and regrets it as soon as he does. There will be other time for sleep, he reminds himself, even though between sleeping and Michael it’s not a competition. Calum prefers to have both at once, but if he can only have one, he’ll die with eyes widen open and Michael at his side.

Michael hesitates, then approaches the bed and sits on the edge. Calum reaches up to fix his hair, smoothing it down until it sits more or less flat. His hands slide down from Michael’s head to his neck. “Michael.”

Michael exhales. “Yeah.”

There hadn’t really been more to that message; Calum just likes to say it, loves the feeling of Michael’s name on his tongue, the way Michael always seems to lighten just a little at the sound. But Michael is expecting more, and Calum can definitely do more. “You look sharp,” he says softly, leaning his forehead against Michael’s. “You’re going to make this presentation your bitch. You’re going to kick the shit out of it. I cannot imagine a world where you do badly.”

Michael closes his eyes. “Sounds like a lack of imagination on your part.”

“Hey!”

Michael chuckles. “Sorry, thank you. It —” He takes a deep, sudden breath in, and puts his hands on Calum’s shoulders. “That makes me feel better.”

“Good,” Calum says. Gently, he adds, “Now let’s go get some coffee and you can do it again for me.”

Michael pauses as he processes this. “You don’t have to come. I was going to go by myself.”

“I know,” Calum says, “but you’re not going to sleep more and I am your supportive boyfriend, so I’m coming with you.” He waits for Michael to protest further, but it’s a sign of Michael’s nerves over the presentation that instead he just sighs in acceptance. “Great. Sorted. Are we going to Starbucks?”

“I love you,” Michael says abruptly, and then kisses Calum before Calum can come up with an adequate response. The kiss gives him an opportunity to think, but nothing comes of it, because Calum’s still kind of waking up and his brain is full of Michael Michael Michael and empty of anything else.

Returning the I-love-you is too easy, a cop-out, but he has to say something, and he cannot for the life of him think of any way to properly express how fucking much he loves Michael. How easy he finds it, loving Michael, because everything about Michael just begs to be loved. How before Michael, Calum had just been aimlessly wandering, but Michael gives him direction. More than that, he gives Calum a place — or at least a person — to come back to. Michael’s not the destination so much as he is the home base, the save point, the only thing Calum wants to return to over and over.

And how the fuck does all of that fit into I love you, too?

He says it anyway when they break apart, murmurs it against Michael’s mouth, eyes closed because this way it feels a little bit like a dream he’s still having. Being with Michael, everything kind of feels a little bit like a dream, although Calum knows for certain he’s not imaginative enough to come up with a life like this.

(And he’s not optimistic enough to conjure up someone like Michael. Michael’s too good for Calum’s psyche to have awarded him, which is how Calum knows that this isn’t a dream, just a reality he has to get used to having.)

Michael breathes slowly out. “Is it crazy that I kind of want to get back in bed now?”

“No,” Calum says. “You slept probably five hours, if even.”

“It’s not that I’m tired,” Michael says, shaking his head and blushing a bit. “I’d just love a cuddle.”

Calum smiles. “Well, you know I’m always up for a cuddle.”

“Yeah, but —” Michael leans away, brows furrowed. “I need to practice the presentation.”

Calum waits patiently. He doesn’t want to encourage Michael to sleep if more practice is what will be most helpful to him, but he also firmly believes lying in bed, even awake, will do Michael a world of good.

Also, he would love a cuddle.

Finally, Michael chews his lip and says, “Okay, we can cuddle for a few minutes, but then I’m getting up. You don’t have to get up with me.”

“Mikey,” Calum says sweetly, kissing his cheek, “I’m with you wherever you go.” Always, he doesn’t add, although he really means it.

The comment makes Michael smile, and as he crawls back into bed Calum smiles too, even more so when Michael curls himself against Calum’s, reclaiming the spot he’d surrendered when he’d gotten out of bed. It’s warm under the duvet, even warmer with Michael solidly settled into his chest, face tucked into Calum’s neck, breathing slow and steady.

“I love you so much,” Michael mumbles. His breath tickles Calum’s skin.

Calum lets his eyes shut. He has no idea if Michael will fall asleep or if, true to his word, they’ll be getting up in a few minutes, but for now he wants to completely soak up the moment. “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey,” he breathes, pressing a kiss into Michael’s hair. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

“Enough to wake up at six for me.”

“Yeah. More than that.”

“Well,” Michael hums, and Calum can already hear the slur in his voice that means he’s growing tired, “I love you more than that.”

Calum smiles. “You just keep believing that.”

“Mm, I will.”

In lieu of responding, Calum just tightens his hold on Michael, syncing their inhales and exhales, and sure enough Michael drifts off, fingers curled into the collar of Calum’s shirt.

It’s embarrassing to say, but yeah. Calum would wake at six every day for Michael. Calum would do fucking anything to have this exact moment for the rest of his life, for Michael to fall asleep in Calum’s arms every day until they die. Maybe to be in love is to make sacrifices, but it doesn’t feel like a sacrifice to Calum. Sleep is a small price to pay for the invaluable gift that is Michael Clifford. Although maybe that’s what it is to be in love: to make sacrifices willingly, to make pain feel like a privilege.

To love Michael, Calum would bear any burden.

#michael clifford #calum hood #malum #malum fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #thank you adri lmao #god i really just. forgot how to write anyone other than jalex #i miss jalex i'm gonna have to go write some more jalex now #but i am glad you asked this of me #put me back in the 5sos fic headspace #i have all these 5sos fic ideas i can't just Abandon so #we'll see! what happens!#anyway. doesn't matter #anonymous #ask #answered

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witchkings · 4 years

Text

The Chaining of Melkor Reloaded

For @eol who’s been asking for morosexual!Mairon for forever and who also came up with this fun modern AU scenario. Hope you enjoy!

AO3

Mairon liked to lie which was probably why he was such an outstanding lawyer. He lied to the money-thick, disgusting men whose tax fraud cases he represented in telling them that they would go back to their life of luxury soon. He lied to their wives when they asked him whether he knew of any affairs their husbands might pursue in telling them that no, of course not, he was loyal. He lied to the Starbucks barista ever so often, claiming they had gotten his order wrong so they would give him a refund.

But most of all, Mairon lied to himself. He told himself that being a junior partner in his firm was enough, that he did not have to make it as a state attorney, that he did not want to be a full partner or, better yet, have his own firm. He told himself he didn’t miss his family who lived across the ocean, miss the gloomily luminous charm of England and his endless number of siblings whom he had left to turn his long-distance relationship into one where the only separating space was that between the two mattresses on their California King size because Melkor hadn’t yet gotten around to ordering a single big one. The list went on.

The biggest lie Mairon told himself frequently was this: he was not attracted by stupidity, on the contrary, he dated a man of vast intelligence and many a notable achievement. Melkor’s pretty face was merely a bonus. It was a precarious construction, teetering and nearly brought down in instances when Melkor couldn’t name the current president, managed to wedge himself in between the car and the garage door again, or confused their for there for they’re for the umpteenth time, but he always made up for it. Melkor had an important job as the CEO of a real estate firm, he was as rich as they got without going into politics and participating in lobbyism. Melkor owned a whole library of books on various topics. Melkor was a man of standard and intellect and Mairon would not let himself be told any differently.

That was until he got back from the office one night, it was a Wednesday, he would later recall, the anniversary of their first chat on Facebook, to find a patrol car on the curb in front of their house. A lanky cop leaned against it, munching on a hamburger.

“Good evening,” Mairon said, putting on his pleasant voice. The one that hooked him his clients. “Can I help you, officer?”

“Finally, we could not reach your phone, mobile or office, and I’ve been waiting for you to get home,” the officer replied, crumbs flying. “This is about your client.”

“What client?” Mairon asked. He had been in a conference, that much was true, his phone still in flight mode, but if any client of his had done something that would involve the police needing to approach Mairon, they would have come to the office, surely.

“Mr. ah,” the cop stopped and consulted a wrinkly piece of paper in his breast pocket. “Mr. Melkor Bauglir. We’ve arrested him for vehicular manslaughter. Apparently, he was, and I quote, ‘not sure how to put in the reverse gear on his car and had to exit his parking spot by driving across the sidewalk’. He apparently lost control of the vehicle when a dog jumped in front of it, hit the brakes and swerved to the right where he ran the car into a construction side, causing the death of one and serious injury of four other construction workers.”

Mairon blinked. Then he brushed past the cop and went into their shared house without a word of reply. This was all just a silly dream, he told himself as he uncorked the wine he had saved for a particularly fine evening. Horrifying would do too. Just a dream.

“You really had to go ahead and kill someone,” Mairon said in place of a greeting as he sat down on the panic-red plastic chair in front of the thick glass and picked up the receiver. He tried not to think about how many people had vented their frustration into it before him and how much of the subsequent spittle still crusted its edges. Melkor sat on the other side, his orange inmate overall clashing violently with his pallor so that he looked a little like he had a mild case of jaundice. His black hair hung in streaks down his front, his mouth was thin, lips nearly invisible. It had been three days since the cop had approached Mairon, and he had refused to see Melkor in that time, had only yielded because his boyfriend had sounded so hollow and miserable over the phone and because the house seemed too empty without him. “You look like hell.”

“Of course, I look like hell, I’m stuck in a dumpster,” Melkor muttered, eyes narrowed.

“It’s your own fault,” Mairon supplied, and when that got him no answer, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Look, they won’t let you out on bail. Apparently, the construction site belonged to the city so they’re going to sue the living daylight out of you and plead for a lifelong sentence.”

“No big deal.” Melkor swatted at the air as if to make away with the charges like with a nasty mosquito.

“Quite the big deal, if you ask me,” Mairon grated, teeth pressed together. He had to be back in the office in twenty minutes and Melkor didn’t even seem concerned.

“I’m sure you’ll manage to free me of all charges. Perks of having an up and coming lawyer for your boyfriend.”

“Melkor, listen to me,” Mairon said, leaning forward, He pressed his forefinger into the glass. “I cannot take your case, our relationship forbids it.”

“But if we’re not married-“

“Doesn’t matter, if they get a whiff of our relationship, it may discredit my whole case and you’ll truly be stuck. I can’t represent you, love, I’m sorry.”

That got Melkor to finally sit straight. Panic poured through the line as he spoke, and it twisted the knot in Mairon’s throat.

“But, but. I can’t stay here. You have to get me out. Don’t you know someone? Anyone? Mairon, do something,” Melkor shrieked, jumping up. In an instant, three guards were on him, restraining him and he was dragged out of sight before there was a chance to reply.

Mairon rolled his eyes and slammed the phone back into its hanging, blood boiling. He strode out of the visitor’s room and left the prison behind, fuming with rage and frustration and underneath those layers, a spark that blossomed in the depths of his belly.

“What a moron,” he muttered as he slid into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes. “What an utter moron.”

Mairon took a deep, shaky inhale to steady himself. He stood before the polished door of his colleague’s office space, not a junior partner yet, but surely on his way, and knocked.

“Come in,” came the smooth reply, and Mairon pushed it open, forcing his facial muscles to relax, thought of how funny it had been when Melkor had meant to replace the toilet seat in the guest bathroom and had accidentally pulled the whole thing out of the wall. Somehow, it didn’t get the job done though. Mairon’s mood only soured further. “Mairon, pal, sit, sit. Have a good lunch?”

Angmar sat in his high-backed chair, a ridiculous expense, his fingertips stapled together in front of his face. His hair was combed back, and his beard neatly trimmed. He smelled like burnt tea.

“Ah, you know how sensible my stomach can be, I’m afraid I had to revert back to grilled cheese,” Mairon lied in reply. Considering the whole debacle at the prison, he hadn’t had the chance to eat at all and his intestines were screaming with abandonment.

“Good old grilled cheese, a national symbol if ever I’ve seen one. I myself had two orders of California Rolls from the best sushi place in town, you know the one. But anyway, look at me, blabbing on. Back to work now, ain’t it? What can I do for you my friend?” Angmar grinned, exposing a set of pearly whites with one gold tooth to the upper left. Mairon remembered that evening, though he would have preferred not to. He cleared his throat, thinking it might be best to get to the point.

“Melkor managed to get himself into jail,” Mairon began and watched the shock unfold on Angmar’s face with slight impatience. “Vehicular manslaughter, destruction of property, mayhem, and a couple minor charges. No bail accepted, and I can’t defend his case.”

Angmar’s eyebrows rose. Then he burst out into hollering laughter.

“Please, Angmar, I know it sounds funny, but this is my boyfriend we’re talking about,” Mairon said calmly, though his insides were fuming. Then, he remembered Angmar’s weakness for a good love story, and put on the teary face. “And it was an accident, I mean. He would never actually want to hurt anyone.” Not something Mairon was confident in. “And we had meant to go on this big vacation and I think perhaps he wanted to propose and now he’s in prison, I can’t believe it.” Mairon sobbed, burying his face in his hands. If this didn’t get Angmar, then he would have to butter on the praise. But the laughter died instantly.

“Geez, I’m so sorry, Mairon, that’s truly horrible. How can I help?”

“Take his case. You’re the only chance I have.” He peered out between his fingers. Angmar was tapping his lips with a pencil, staring at the ceiling. “He’s very rich,” Mairon added.

“Consider it done,” Angmar said. He patted Mairon’s shoulder over the desk.

“We’ll find another way,” Mairon said, reaching out over the sterile plastic table he and Melkor occupied. Now that Melkor was a permanent resident of the facility and had distinguished himself through well-adjusted behavior – meaning he rarely did anything, ever – they got to meet without the glass between them. Hand-holding was the absolute maximum though, and Melkor’s skin was dry, full of tiny rashes when Mairon touched it. Melkor stared down at their hands, his gaze glazed over.

“I’ll rot in here.” And Melkor had every right to claim that. Angmar had done a fantastic job, but the city had had too many of its own pawns in the game, and there had never been a chance. Melkor would lose half of his fortune, would have to serve a reduced sentence of seven years and have to do civic work for another three. It was better than life-long, but Mairon would not stand it.

“No, you won’t,” Mairon promised. “We’ll find another way.”

He twisted his hand so the folded in Swiss pocket knife he had bought that morning pressed into Melkor’s hand. Melkor’s brow furrowed, then he pulled back his hand with the tool and brought it close to his face to inspect it. It lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Quick, hide it,” Mairon hissed, but too late. As Melkor flipped the thing open, blade gleaming in the harsh fluorescent light, a guard stormed towards them, gun at Melkor’s temple before anyone else could realize what was happening.

“DROP THE KNIFE INMATE,” the guard screamed, spittle flying. Melkor complied.

“Sorry,” he said to Mairon with a small, apologetic smile. Mairon pinched the bridge of his nose. Moments later, Melkor was gone from the room and an escort was sent to take Mairon out of the prison.

He was barred from visits for the next three months, and that memory of Melkor’s skin against his, the soft plains of his awed expression as he had realized Mairon’s plans were all he had to cling to, all that kept him company at night when he was doomed to fulfill his own aching desires.

Without volition on Mairon’s part nor with active awareness on Melkor’s, it got to be a pattern.

Mairon slipped Melkor a written note on the security systems which he had procured after dissolving into tears at his colleague’s Gothmog’s desk who had worked a case to do with an escaped inmate once. Gothmog had let Mairon review the file under the guise of research for a new client and Mairon had jotted down the most vital points so that Melkor could work on an escape plan with all the free time he had. Melkor mistook the note for trash and discarded of it in the visitation room’s bin.

Then, he sent large sums of money onto Melkor’s prison bank account so he could buy some of the guards’ favors and Melkor used it all on communal bathroom slippers and toothpaste because his got stolen so frequently, he needed new ones by the day. If he had been any more inclined towards intentional violence, Melkor could have reigned that place, but all his aggressions were accidental. He had a lot more enemies than friends in that place. In general, now that Mairon thought about it.

Later, Mairon brought candy spiked with narcotics for Melkor to distribute amongst the guards and slip out of the prison in the ensuing disruption, but Melkor forgot about the contents. He ate the whole bag himself which meant Mairon received a call at three in the morning informing him that Melkor had fallen into a coma and was unlikely to ever wake up again. He did, eventually, but Mairon was careful to change tactics.

He dug up shady details about other inmates’ lives so Melkor could blackmail them into helping him organize an escape plan or a riot or really anything that would provide an opportunity for Melkor to get out. In true fashion, Melkor mixed up the inmate’s names and, rather than threatening anyone, insulted a lot of people which resulted in him becoming the victim of a planned attack. No pudding for a whole week.

The list went on and on, and every night that Mairon went to bed alone, jerked off under angry tears and cursed the day he had clicked on Melkor’s profile, a part of him died.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Mairon announced once upon a visit. His nose was red and runny from the biting cold outside and the first snow had fallen the prior weekend, an emissary of the loneliest holidays he would ever celebrate. He had half a mind to go back to England, just for Christmas, but he couldn’t well leave Melkor here to rot on his own. No, he was devoted and not at all happy about it.

“Enough of what?” Melkor asked. He looked the same as he always did, orange cloth in constant warfare with his taint, his hair open, greasy, now down to his waistline. The prison hairdresser only dropped in once every six months. Their hands lay on the table, twined together, no space between them and it felt to Mairon like he was stranded in a desert, half dead from thirst and only given drops of sea water to drink. He needed to feel Melkor’s mouth, his face, his chest, his cock which no dildo had yet been able to replace. He needed for this nightmare to be over and for Melkor to come home, abandoned though it was as Mairon spent almost all day at work or at various begrudging friends’ houses so he wouldn’t be alone.

“Enough of waking up to a cold mattress beside me, enough of cooking too much because I forget I’m by myself now, enough of fingering myself in the bathtub pretending you’re with me.”

A guard near them cleared his throat noisily.

“I have apologized extensively,” Melkor said, shrugging. “Believe me, if I could, I would bend you over this very table and have my way, but alas. Rules.”

The guard spluttered, but Mairon ignored him.

“There might be a way. Ever heard of a conjugal visit?”

“A what now?”

Mairon explained it patiently, thinking himself clever, and accentuated this whole idea with a sheet of paper he pulled out of his bag. Melkor’s expression darkened, his eyes stormy-wild, his mouth set.

“What is that?” he growled.

“Paperwork. I’ll have the guard lend us a pen and we can seal it right here and now.”

“That’s the worst proposal ever,” Melkor muttered and retracted the hand that was holding Mairon’s to cross his arms over his chest.

“It’s the only one either of us is going to get in the next five years or so. At best. Face it, Melkor, you ruined any prospects of a proper wedding with your accident.” Mairon leaned back, tapping the paper with a nail. “If we sign this, at least we get to fuck ever so often.”

“No.”

“Sorry?” Mairon smiled, thinking of a hundred different ways he wanted to make Melkor sign the papers already. He had been patient, clever, smart, loving, supportive. He had not left Melkor, was going to stick through this with him. And here he was, this boyfriend he had sacrificed everything for, denying him the simplest of carnal pleasures.

“I am not marrying you in a prison’s visitation room,” Melkor said, a finality in his voice that had Mairon wish he could turn back time or at the very least, make Melkor understand that this wasn’t the place for romantic touches.

“You should,” he said through gritted teeth, anger flaring. His stress levels were through the roof.

“No. Absolutely not. I’d rather wait and run on fantasies of you than throw away something so special. You can only get married once.”

“That’s not-“

“End of discussion,” Melkor said and gestured for the guard to lead him out of the room.

The solution Mairon came up with was, perhaps, far from ideal and very costly, but it was the only one he saw, the only scenario in which he wouldn’t go insane with longing. Mairon bought a rifle, waited for nightfall, and snuck into the nearest air base. Then he only had to apply what was left of Melkor’s savings to impress upon the right people. A prison selection here, a cell assignment there, and wouldn’t you know. They dressed him in that horrid orange, gave him a bedroll and lead him to a sorry, colorless room with two cods, a few shelves on the walls and his boyfriend, idling away.

“Oh god,” Melkor gasped, sitting up. Mairon laughed as he was shoved into the cell, stumbling into Melkor’s chest. They fall back against the creaky, hard prison bed, Mairon on top of Melkor who still wore a startled expression. “What did you do?”

“Aggravated theft of a military vehicle,” Mairon said, feeling rather proud to have pulled it off. He would have gotten away with it too if he hadn’t gambled for them to catch him trying to escape.

“You are impossible,” Melkor laughed.

“And you a moron.”

They met in a soft, exploring kiss, the first in forever, the first in a million. All the time in the world to make up for the last year or so.

“I love you for going to prison with me,” Melkor panted into the crook of Mairon’s neck later that night.

“And I love you for…” Mairon paused, trying to think of something redeeming about this situation other than the bites littering his chest, the rigid cock that pounded into him with reckless abandon. He came up short, but that was okay. “For you. I love you for you.”

#tolkien #silmarillion #angbang #melkor #morgoth #mairon #sauron #crack #modern au #at least melkor has a pretty face #my writing

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garbagevanfleet · 5 years

Text

Learn To Leave A Room (series)

PART TWO

Pairing: Jake & female!Reader Warnings: general sexiness, but nothing too risque yet Summary: Balancing relationships is hard work - God forbid someone throw a wrench into it. Notes: oh my god, im sorry guys. sexual tension is my favorite thing in the whole world.

MASTERLIST

“I am not ashamed, the story goes. I swear I will learn to leave a room without touching every part of your face.” — Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “How to Grow the Brightest Geranium,” published in Breakwater Review

“Obviously you have to talk to him.”

Despite being nearly noon, it’s still too early for this conversation. Lucy has dragged you back to the diner, hoping to nurse your collective hangovers with some coffee and a greasy breakfast, but all you had really wanted to do was crawl into your own bed.

“You can’t just leave things like they are. I mean, he is still your boyfriend until you actually break up with him, right?” she tries again. You know she’s right. She’s always so insightful about these kinds of things, and hung-over you is a little annoyed by her sound logic.

You had told her a very selective recounting of what had happened last night, leaving out anything to do with Jake. You weren’t ever planning on telling her the rest.

You and Lucy had stayed over at the Kiszka residence, cuddled up together on the couch, but you - very luckily - did not have to see anyone else before you had left.

“I know. I will eventually,” you assure, staring down at the half-eaten cheeseburger you ordered and wondering if you can take another bite. You opt instead to pick at it with your fork. “Mostly I want him to have to think about it all for a while. Get in his own head.”

She giggles at you. “Mind games,” she says in the way of agreement. She’s silent for a moment as you watch her stir her milkshake with her straw. “I’m sorry he did that to you. I could tell that you didn’t want to invite him; I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

You shake your head at her. “It’s so not your fault. I think it’s good that I figured out who he really is early on. You know, before I actually got to like him.”

“You didn’t really like him?” Her tone is sheepish.

You shake your head. “It was fun at first, but no. I will miss the regular sex though,” you add, making her laugh.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to just kick him to the curb and get back out there. You’re going to find someone that’s going to treat you right.”

You nod in agreement and give her a thankful smile, but somehow you feel that you won’t be joining the dating scene for a while.

+++

Mitch never does text you, so you decide you won’t either. It feels a little unresolved, but you’re honestly grateful to not have to deal with the confrontation. He had never left anything at your house, and you hadn’t taken more than one or two pictures together, so you forget about him pretty easily.

You do feel anxious off and on, but you don’t think it’s from the breakup. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you pick up an extra-long shift at the cafe to fill your time. Fall is the start of the busy season for baristas, so you very infrequently have a moment to dwell on anything at work.

After a long day of steaming and steeping, you cannot wait to get home and wash off. The most you ever feel like yourself is in the shower - it’s always a mental cleansing process just as much as a physical one. Soft music starts to play from the speaker on the bathroom counter as you connect your phone.

You turn the water to the perfect temperature to warm you up from the walk home, and it feels borderline euphoric as you step under the spray. You let the water wash over you, but the second you close your eyes, you snap them back open with an anxious feeling.

You try it again. You lean back, close your eyes... but to the same result.

You stand and stare blankly at the shower wall.

“Fuck,” you breathe. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Jake looking back at you from across the living room.

The lights on his face, the contrast of his dark hair against the white door frame - you can even hear the music that was playing. All of it. It’s haunting you.

You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to will it away, but you can’t stop your brain from playing the image back to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper again, a bit more desperately this time and slump against the cold shower wall. You stay there, staring at the tile in front of you until you realize that the issue isn’t going to go away.

You give up and wash your hair, absent of the task. A slight annoyance slips over you because you can’t even enjoy the ritual with your mind so preoccupied. You take a deep breath and let your eyes slip closed as the warm water rinses the soap away.

He’s waiting for you in the black, but this time you’re on the patio with him, watching him smoke his cigarette down to the filter. It’s only for a moment, but in that moment you can smell the smoke. Feel the leather of his jacket. Taste his skin.

You remember the intensity in his eyes as you sucked his thumb into your mouth and you try to recall every little thing about how he looked at that moment. You groan at yourself, realizing just how stupid you are for ever letting yourself feel like this.

When you step out of the shower, you promise yourself that you won’t think about it anymore, but you still do. You try to bargain with yourself.

You won’t think about it again after tonight, you think, but you know it’s a lie.

You blow dry your hair in the mirror and stare at the spot on your neck that Mitch had left you with. It’s faded to the point that it’s nearly undetectable, but you can see it. You want to hate Mitch for it, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re acutely aware that if he hadn’t done that, you would have never had the time you did with Jake. The party would have just been normal and you would still have Mitch’s number saved in your phone. Jake was right, who knows how long you would have kept dating him, despite the lack of interest on your part.

You lay down in bed with your warm pajamas on, your feet dangling off the side and your cell in your hands. Jake’s contact information is pulled up and you flip to the Messages tab. You’ve only ever messaged him a couple of times; once when he asked you about a song you had been playing that he wanted to know the name of, and once when Josh and him were coming to pick you and Lucy up and he was messaging that they were waiting outside.

You lay the phone face down on your chest and stare up at your ceiling. Your heart is fluttering as you think about what would happen if you called him. Right now.

It’s just a reckless idea - you’d never do it - but that doesn’t stop your eyes from flicking to the clock on your nightstand.

It’s 11 pm. Would he even answer? What would you say if he did?

You roll your eyes at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at how stupid you’re being. The covers are chilly as you slip into them, but thankfully, they warm up quickly. You fall into a pleasant sleep, and even though you had sworn you wouldn’t dream about it, you still do.

+++

You wake up to your phone notifying you of a message, but you ignore it for a few minutes, trying to force yourself back to sleep. It’s five minutes later that you realize it’s not happening, so you reach a hand over for your phone.

Lucy 10:23 am

What are you up to tonight?

A smile finds your lips. She’s always had an uncanny way of knowing when you needed her, and some girl time was exactly what the doctor ordered, you think.

Absolutely nothing. Wanna hang? you reply. You crawl out of bed and allow yourself some time to stretch your muscles before you head for the bathroom. You’re brushing your teeth when you hear a new message come in.

Lucy 10:41 am

For sure

Movie at Josh’s. Pick you up around 5.

Your heart jumps.

“Fuck,” you rasp, but your mouth is still full of toothpaste, and now your mirror is dotted with white speckles. You finish brushing frantically before texting back.

Maybe just a girl night?

Because your life is currently such a mess, you’re not at all surprised that Lucy takes nearly half an hour to respond.

You lunge for the phone the second you hear the notification sound, nearly dropping the Poptart that you’ve just finished toasting.

Lucy 11:10 am

Don’t be silly, I already got the movie

You have no idea how that prevents you from just watching it alone with her, but you don’t want to make her suspicious, so you don’t press any further.

The rest of your day is spent acting like a middle schooler. You are not ready to see Jake Kiszka again. What if he says something to you in front of Lucy? Explaining it to her would be a nightmare. What if he was just drunk and doesn’t actually have any interest at all?

You’re not positive you’ll see him, so you try to convince yourself that you probably won’t. It decidedly does not work.

You pointedly try not to think about what you’re going to wear, but despite yourself, you already have an outfit picked out by the time 4 pm rolls around. You try to reason with yourself as you eye your makeup bag.

“It’s a movie,” you remind yourself into the mirror. “We are just watching a movie in the dark and you are not putting on makeup.”

You try to be firm, but you’re weak and you end up glaring at your reflection as you apply mascara.

Lucy is late when she arrives to get you, but it doesn’t matter, because you still feel like you haven’t had enough time to worry about everything thoroughly. Feeling unprepared, you climb into her car.

You try to calm yourself by listening to everything Lucy is going on about as she tells you about her week. You know that she can tell that you’re nervous because she starts talking about her cat - a subject that always makes you feel better.

She’s so used to being at the Kiszka house that when you get there, she doesn’t bother knocking. She just lets herself in and hangs her coat and scarf on a hook by the door.

“Babe,” she calls out into the house, and Josh emerges from the kitchen and sweeps her into an embrace. You try not to listen to their loved up talk, you don’t feel like you have the stomach for it with the state you’re in.

Josh greets you with a polite hug. You smile back genuinely until you realize that you have no idea if Jake told him anything, and suddenly you have a whole new nightmare to explore in your head. You try to talk yourself through it as you follow them through the hall to the living room.

He didn’t give you the shit-eating grin that you would expect to receive if he did know something. You’re also pretty sure that he would tell Lucy, and Lucy would absolutely ask you about it. You breathe a relieved sigh as you settle in on the couch.

Sam is sitting the wrong way in a reclining chair, his long legs hanging off one of the arms. He looks so gangly that you can’t help but laugh at him and he gives you a cheesy smile back.

Since the recliner is taken, you get cozy with Lucy sandwiched between you and Josh, and a fuzzy blanket across all your laps. You want to ask if Jake is going to be joining you guys, but you chicken out. What if Josh does know about what happened at the party, and by some miracle, he just didn’t tell Lucy? You don’t want to seem like you’re thinking about Jake - even though you absolutely are - so you just stay silent.

You try to get into the movie. You and Lucy both love anything in the horror genre, but you’d already seen this one in theaters with her, and you try not to be annoyed that she’d pick a movie you’ve both already seen, presumably just so Josh could see it as well.

It’s considerably less scary the second time around, so about halfway through, you find yourself bored. You excuse yourself to use the restroom, mostly just so you can stretch your legs, as the couch isn’t that big and fitting three people on it is a squeeze. Lucy asks if you want them to pause the movie, but you wave her off, telling her you’ll be right back.

You head up the stairs and down the hallway, and you’re just about to turn the corner to the bathroom when the breath gets knocked out of you with a thump. It doesn’t hurt, but a shocked noise escapes your lips before you can stop it. A pair of hands find your hips instantly to help steady you. It takes you a second to realize that you’ve just slammed into Jake - face first - but as soon as you do, you hold your breath. You must have a horrified look on your face because he breathes a laugh.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you squeak. “What are you doing here?”

Deliberately slow - like he’s trying to make sure you’ve got your balance back - he pulls his hands away. Through a disbelieving grin, he says, “Well, I live here. It’s more like ‘what are you doing here?’.”

You can feel your face turning pink. “Right. Lucy and I are here for a movie,” you explain. You haven’t made an effort to step back away from him, and you can’t bring yourself to yet. His hair is wet and slicked back, and you’re annoyed it looks so good on him - you always look like a drowned cat when you get out of the shower.

He hums in understanding but doesn’t say anything else. He just raises his eyebrows at you expectantly.

Just above a whisper, you chance, “Are we going to talk about it?”

He feigns consideration.

“We could,” he says with a nod, his lips stretching out into a mischievous smirk. “Or we could pick up where we left off.”

You subtly pull the sleeves on your sweater down to your wrists in an effort to hide the goosebumps that are rising on your skin. You open your mouth, but you’re truly at a loss for words. You had a full week to think about this, but you realize you never got around to allowing yourself to figure out what you’d say to him. He gives you an ample amount of time to think of a response, but the only thing you can do is stare at his lips.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, his voice is like silk. It’s quiet, but commanding. A tone you’d use if you had someone's wrists cuffed to your headboard. “Where did all that confidence go?”

He didn’t have as much control the last time you were this close to him, but he definitely does now, and you can tell that this is exactly how he’s comfortable.

“Pretty sure my liver cleared it all out Saturday morning,” you reply, swallowing hard. The words had come out softer than you’d intended. He’s smug as he seems to give you a once over, and your chest tightens under his gaze.

“That’s a shame.”

You can smell his shampoo as he brushes past you - something minty and pleasant. The sharpness of it helps ground you a little, but as soon as he disappears down the stairs, you slip into the bathroom and slump against the closed door. The whole exchange only lasted a couple of minutes, but you’re left feeling exhausted. You consider staying in the bathroom forever - maybe setting up a nice nest of towels so you never have to see anyone for the rest of your life, but then you remember that you have your favorite kind of yogurt in your fridge at home, so you’ll have to come out eventually. Instead, you just stand in front of the sink and splash cold water against your face as you try to collect your thoughts.

You don’t see him the rest of the evening, and for that, you’re simultaneously grateful and annoyed. Multiple times you think about marching back up to his room, but that's as far as you get. You still have no idea what you’d say or do once you got up there.

Lucy takes you home after the movie, and she offers to stay the night, but you tell her you’re wiped and that you’re headed right to bed. You go to get out of her car, but she places her hand on yours where it’s rested on the center console.

“Hey, so Josh and I were talking,” she starts, and your stomach tightens. You’re suddenly positive that she’s about to tell you that she knows everything, so you hold your breath.

“About birthday plans. So he was thinking that since I’m going to be leaving in a week, he’s going to throw me a party at his house next Saturday,” she finishes excitedly. You smile at her, trying not to look scared.

Lucy’s birthday is in early November, and every single year since you met, you’ve spent it together. This year, however, her parents surprised her with a trip abroad. You had been planning on having a nice dinner together just before she left, but you suppose that it is more efficient to just have a party with everyone.

“That’s great,” you agree, squeezing her hand.

“I’m so excited, I’m just hoping you can help us plan it all?” She gives you her best puppy eyes. “Since I’m going to be so busy packing and making sure I have everything together.”

You take a deep breath and nod in agreement. “Of course. You can count on me, Lu.”

She beams at you and leans in to give you a cramped car hug.

When you’re back in your room, you shoot Josh a message asking what he’d like you to be in charge of. Your body feels tight, so you head to the bathroom and draw yourself a bath, setting the water as hot as it will go.

Josh K 9:38 pm

thinking probably cake

You frown at your phone and shoot back, just cake?

Josh K 9:41 pm

yah

You set your phone down on the tile by the bathtub and roll your eyes. “Idiot,” you say out loud through a smile. You undress and sink into the water slowly, and it’s so hot that it turns your skin pink, but the slight pain is grounding. A message notification sounds from beside you, so you extend a wet hand to grab it.

Josh K 9:48 pm

Lucy wants to do decorations herself n sam threatened suicide if he cant dj

You huff a laugh. What are you getting her for a present?, you send back.

Josh K 9:51 pm

secret :)

Josh K 9:52 pm

maybe just birthday sex

You leave it at that, grateful that Lucy has someone so loving in her life. You think she deserves it, even if it does gross you out now and again.

You spend the rest of your time in the bath willing yourself to relax and trying to figure out why the last three words Jake said to you upset you more than the entirety of your last interaction with Mitch.

PART THREE

Taglist: @myownparadise96 (message me to add yourself if you want!)

#jake fic #learn to leave a room #writing #fic #gvf fic

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