#gonna dress them up in all my sick clothes teehee | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tetsurobunni · 3 years ago

Text

Kita Shinsuke : Matchmaker

☽ suna x reader ; 2.6k words

☞ characters mentioned : kita shinsuke, aran ojiro, atsumu miya, osamu miya

☽ fluff, he takes care of you when ur sick ! even tho he’s a menace, kita being an angel

☽ a slight mention of adult themes (its a teasing joke)

☽ notes : hiii i wrote this for a friend and i figured id add it here teehee :))

hey Jesus, i know we don’t talk much but...fuck you. i feel like literal dog shit

You groaned as you shoved yet another tissue in your nose. You were sick, and God forbid it wasn’t the worst cold you’d ever had.

This morning you had pulled on your uniform in a haze; honestly it's a miracle you even made it to school. Aran had stopped you in the hallway when you arrived, putting a hand on your shoulder and placing the back of his palm against your forehead.

He immediately got out his phone and texted someone-presumably Kita, since he was the one most qualified to handle this. The captain had dealt with him and Atsumu both when they were sick so he could surely help you and get you to go the hell home.

You had pushed weakly at Kita when he ushered you towards the entrance of the building, assuring that you were a-o-kay. You ended up making friends with a nearby trashcan and emptying your guts right after the claim. Kita had held your hair back and rubbed your shoulders reassuringly. Afterwards, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to someone. Who? You didn’t know.

Kita had made sure to get you home in one piece. He tucked you into bed, placed a cold rag onto your head, and you think you heard him say something about bringing you soup later. Sleep crept up on you quickly and you were out before he even stepped out the door.

Now you were unfortunately awake, cursing whatever God could hear. This was absolutely awful. A dull throb ran through your skull insistently, mucus clotted your nose and throat, making your breaths uneven and raspy. You wanted to quench the ache in your throat but even the idea of sitting up seemed to drain too much energy, so you laid there in pain.

You assumed it was mid-afternoon. Kita had drawn the curtains above the window closed, leaving the room dark. You were especially grateful for this, for you knew any light would make your eyes hurt.

Your phone lay unchecked on the table face-down. The fear of worsening your headache is what caused it to stay there. Whoever wanted to talk would have to wait. You switched out the tissue in your nose for a fresh one, groaning again.

You wanted to take a shower so bad. You hated getting sick because you felt disgusting and knew you looked it too. Embarrassment bloomed when the events from this morning played in your mind.

Aran’s gonna joke about that for weeks.

A soft knock from the door drew you away from your thoughts. That’s probably Kita. A hoarse “come in” fell from your chapped lips and you internally cringed at how awful you sounded, even if it was just your childhood friend.

“You look like shit.”

That was not Kita.

“Suna? what the fuck?”

“Shut Up. You’re going to hurt your throat worse.”

Is this what I get for saying fuck you? I apologize so much anything but this please

“You’ve gone through two boxes of tissues already? Kita wasn’t lying, damn.”

You turned your head away from Suna’s voice, attempting to cover your sick-stricken face. Out of all people. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Suna- the two of you actually got along (if you count bickering back and forth all the time getting along). The problem was you happened to have a humongous crush on him.

The wing spiker had gotten on your nerves at first- smirks hidden behind a hand, foot sticking out to trip you in the hallway, drawing on your notes- he was almost unbearable. But as the both of you got older, you started returning his remarks, nudging him lightly into lockers, laughing at the twins together and sharing footage of their stupid fights.

Your crush had crept up on you almost unknowingly until one day he slung an arm over your shoulder and shot you one of his signature smirks and you were gone. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Earth to y/n, hello y/n.”

“What.”

“Ah-ah, no speaking, remember?” You shot him a glare, receiving that smirk yet again. You cursed at the butterflies swarming your stomach.

Infuriating.

“You’re shivering.”

It was a simple comment. You realized after a beat that he was right and pulled the blanket farther up your body. He sat down the bag he held in his hand and made his way over to your bed. You squirmed in protest, trying to scooch away from his outstretched hand. Your actions caused Suna’s brows to furrow, a small line creasing on his forehead.

“I’m just going to check if you still have a fever,” he whispered, moving forward despite your futile attempts at moving away. You gave in, allowing him to gently place his hand on your forehead.

He wasn’t terribly close, he had been closer to you before this, but this felt different. More intimate.

“You’re burning up,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “Sit tight, I’ll start a bath for you.”

You tried to keep your swarming thoughts at bay with no luck. Your crush, Suna Rintaro, is drawing a bath for you. A bath. He’s taking care of you.

Why is he being so nice? This has to be a set up, or Kita probably forced him. There’s no other way he would willingly be doing this...is there? You shut down the thought as quickly as it came. No sense in getting flustered over nothing. No need to fuel your growing crush.

You weren’t fit to complain anyways. The exact thing you wanted is being done right now, so you did as you were told, slightly sitting up to fetch yet another tissue. The pounding in your head still hadn’t ceased and a sudden cough racked your body. You wanted to cry- and you didn’t cry often. But you felt horrible.

“Hey, you okay?”

Apparently you hadn’t held up your facade well enough because a look of concern washed over Suna’s face the instant he stepped back into the room. You shook your head lightly in response to his question, feeling tears welling up behind your eyelids in spite of your attempts to keep them at bay.

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Suna. It was practically a death wish. You could imagine the jokes and poking laughter he would send your way over the next few weeks, and it made you feel even worse.

“Hey, hey now, look at me.”

The words were whispered closer to you than you anticipated. Suna had sat down on the edge of your bed while you were caught up in your thoughts, that same line present between his brows. You fought the urge to touch it, facing away from him again and reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine.” That instigated a scoff.

“No you’re not. Now c’mon, let’s get you into the bath. You’ll feel better.”

Right. A bath. Despite the fact that Suna’s presence was wearing you thin, a bath sounded great. The only problem was, you knew you were too weak to walk to your bathroom across the hall. It took so much energy to even sit up, much less actually get on your feet.

Suna must have sensed something was wrong because in mere seconds he was lifting the heavy blanket off of your body and moving closer. Your breath hitched when he moved one strong arm under your back and another under your knees, eyes concentrated.

“Put your arm around my neck,” Suna murmured. You failed to notice the blush that had lifted to his ears because your own was blossoming on your face, making your already warm cheeks heat up even more.

This is purgatory.

You did as he said, lightly wrapping your arm up his shoulder and around his neck. He picked you up in one smooth motion, shocking you. You knew he worked out because of volleyball, but jesus christ. Your head throbbed in protest to the movement, and you winced involuntarily.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

“S’fine.”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest from the proximity. You were so close you could see the long eyelashes that framed his eyes, light traces of black eyeliner around the corners. You saved that in the back of your mind to ask about later.

Suna carried you into the bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. You pushed away the noise of protest that you wanted to let out from the loss of contact. No need to embarrass yourself even more.

“I’ll get you some clothes and leave them outside, take as long as you want.”

You murmured a small thank you as you watched him move towards the door. You hated that you missed him already.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Like I care.”

“Yea, okay princess.”

You glared at him as he closed the door behind him with a small chuckle. Princess. You fumed at the reaction you had to the pet name.

This is horrible. I’m horrible. I’ll just blame it on him. Him and that stupidly hot smirk.

The bath became increasingly inviting as you sat, eventually leading you to strip of your dirty clothes and step into the warm water. It felt amazing. After a few minutes you felt your eyes begin to droop, the steam luring you to sleep.

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

You didn’t know how long you had slept but judging by the temperature of the water, at least 15 minutes, maybe longer. The water hadn’t cooled completely but had lost its comfortable warmth. Begrudgingly you stepped out of the water and dried off.

You wrapped the towel around yourself and padded towards the door, opening it to retrieve the clothes Suna said he left for you. Just like he said, a small stack of clothes laid on the floor. You grabbed them and faced back towards the sink, wincing at your reflection in the mirror.

You really did look awful. Embarrassment settled into your bones again as you unfolded the clothes to put them on. A small part of your brain pointed out that they were big, too big to be your clothes, but a fit of coughs cut off your train of thought.

A knock came from the door. “Y/n? You okay?”

“Ye-“ Another cough broke off your sentence.

“Knock twice if you’re dressed.”

A small smile crept up on your face at the thought of Suna being considerate. You knocked on the door twice signaling him that it was okay for him to come in. A moment later it opened. Suna was holding what seemed to be a cup of tea in his hands and you reached for it with a sigh.

“Lavender, right?” You halted in your movements.

“Yea...how did you-“

“I pay attention.”

Your face flushed. His gaze never faltered from your face. How did he say that so casually?

“You look good in my clothes.”

So that’s why they were big. You looked in the mirror again, eyes locking in on the large “Inarizaki Volleyball” plastered on the front of the black material.

“Should wear ‘em more often.”

“Shut- shut up.”

“Mhm, okay. Feelin’ better?” You nodded.

“A little. Still feel like shit.”

“Look it, too.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

A light chuckle escaped him and he moved closer towards you. Something felt different. You noticed his eyes linger on you longer, many lapses of silence filled the spaces where playful arguing usually was.

“Cap texted me and asked to bring you soup, he had to do some more shit before he came over.”

“Hm.”

“What do you mean, hm?”

You didn’t get it. Why of all people would Kita send Suna to tend to you? What about Aran? Osamu? Hell, even Atsumu would have been higher on the list than Suna. Maybe…

“That bastard.”

“Woah now, what did Cap do to you?”

Kita was one of the only people who knew about your crush. Of course he would pull some strings to get Suna to come over. That little-

“Hey now pretty thing, don’t frown too much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

It was then you noticed a light touch on your forehead, right in between your eyebrows. Suna was rubbing the space there, just like you had wanted to do to him.

You hoped Suna couldn’t tell how fast your heart was beating or just how much you knew you were blushing.

After a moment of silence Suna still hadn’t removed the touch on your face. He met your eyes, slowly moving to cup your cheek.

“Why are you here, Rin?” His thumb stroked your cheek with a feather-like graze and you swore you saw his eyes flit downwards to your lips. “To take care of you, of course.”

“You’re going to catch my cold.”

“You’ll just have to pay me back later, yeah?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the corners of his mouth edging upwards.

what the fuck did i do to deserve this?

You pushed his hand away and looked away from his gaze. You could manage standing from afar and pining, sure, but what you couldn’t deal with was Suna messing around with you like this. You ignored the ache in your chest, choosing to cover it up by reaching for another tissue.

��Y/n.” You ignored him.

“Y/n, look at me.” You braced your arms on the bathroom sink with a sigh.

“What, Suna.”

“Rin. It’s Rin, to you.” You scoffed.

“Why am I any different than anyone else?”

“Because…”

You turned to face him again, confusion and slight annoyance bubbling under your skin. “Because what?” Suna groaned and ran a hand over his face. “You’re so oblivious.”

Okay, now you were annoyed.

“Oblivious? How am I oblivious?”

“Because you haven’t realized how different you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you fucking messing with me Suna? Look, I’m in no mood for your stupid games-“

“Would you shut up for one second and think.”

You leaned back against the sink with a cough, wincing as another throb of pain shot through your head. Any traces of anger or annoyance vanished from Suna’s face in an instant. He left the bathroom and you heard him rustling through the bag he left in your room. He returned with a bottle of pills and an ice pack.

“Here. Take these.” You took the small pills from his outstretched hand and washed them down with the now lukewarm tea. “Have you thought about it?” You rolled your eyes dramatically, placing your hand under your chin to mock a thinking position. “No, I don’t think I have.” He rolled his eyes in return. “Fine. Would I be doing this for anyone else? Hm?”

It’s a good point. One you didn’t bother thinking about. Sure, maybe he would do it for his teammates, but that was a hard maybe. He just wasn’t the caretaker type, much less with someone he wasn’t close with. You realized the implication behind his words in an instant.

“You...you like me?”

“‘Bout time you figured that out, sweetheart.”

All of the moments between you two passed through your mind in a frenzy, and you started to laugh. It was hysterical, really. All this time you just knew Suna could never like you back.

i take it back. thank you. sorry for saying fuck you

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He scoffed, “And risk losing my appearance? Hell no,” he said, sending you that damn smirk again.

“You are a menace, Rintaro.”

“Yea, but I’m your menace. You’re stuck with me.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“Oh shush, ya love me.”

“Yea, yea. Now, get me back in my bed. I need to sleep.”

“Inviting me to bed already? Wow y/n.”

“I hate you.” He reached over and pecked your cheek.

“Hate you, too.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#fanfic #suna rintarō #suna x reader #suna rinatro #suna x you #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader

136 notes · View notes

mysweetestcreature · 5 years ago

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 12: All I Want for Christmas

***

Author’s note: Hiiiiii, so I honestly have no idea what happened to the post scheduled for earlier, but Tumblr has always been a little b*tch so I’m not surprised lmao. This version isn’t as well edited as the one that disappeared, so please excuse any slips (it’s late and I’m kind of drunk so teehee). ANYWAY! Happy Holidays, everyone! Thank you so much for everything you do for me. From the bottom of my heart, I love you all :’)

***

Masterlist

***

Saturday December 13, 2008

With the holiday season comes all things festive; from brilliant and twinkling lights wrapped around post lamps, to an army of nutcracker statuettes that line town square, and finally that wishful little mistletoe hung above a few select archways and unsuspecting doorframes. There’s a different attitude that floats in the air during this time of year, an unexplainable elation swirled in with a dash of mild intensity.

You’ll never see more people in one place than at the mall, when everyone is on a mission to find that perfect gift, maybe even the perfect outfit for the office Christmas party with the cheap wine, or something of a school dance that may or may not be the social event of the year (unless you’re a senior, then prom is most definitely the only thing to look forward to).

“Why can’t I see it?” Harry pouts, peeking into the gaps of the brown Bloomingdale’s paper bag.

She rolls her eyes; this is probably the eighth time in twenty minutes he’s asked her. For some reason he’d been under the impression that he’d get to see her try it on. Much to his dismay (but to her amusement), however, it had been a quick and easy pick up from the alterations department on the third floor. “Because I’m your girlfriend, and I said you can’t.”

Harry frowns slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t really see a correlation between those two statements, although. . .” He backs her against a wall, hands finding their place on the curves of her hips. A cheeky grin replaces his former expression, dimples making their indents on either side of his mouth. “I do like it when you call yourself my girlfriend.��

Humming, she tilts her head to the side and wraps her arms around his middle. He swallows when she grazes the tip of her nose to his, his mouth parting in anticipation. They’re close enough that he can easily smell her strawberry lip balm. “Yeah?” she speaks meekly. The radiant look in her eyes makes his heart beat thrice its usual rhythm. He nods in response, just about ready to lean down.

Of course, timing has never been their strongest point, and Harry’s phone rings annoyingly from the pocket of his North Face. He sighs, dropping his head down, eyes squeezing shut when he sees the name lit up on the screen. “Are you gonna answer that, or should I?” Y/n giggles, snatching his cell from between his fingers. He shakes his head and pleads her not to pick it up, but she flips the cover open and brings it right to her ear. “Hi, Anne!”

There’s a string of mumbles from under his breath. He had assumed that they’d be free from interruptions once they’d finally gotten together, but time and time again (an average of three times a week, he’s noticed) there’s always someone out to mess with him. The other day, Mason had squirmed his way between them while they were cuddled up under her favorite fluffy blanket, and Harry had only taken notice when he turned to peck her on the cheek only to end up with half his face covered in peanut butter frosting (his girlfriend––and he really can’t stress enough how happy the title makes him––thought it was absolutely hilarious).

“Yeah, we’re just about finished. . .” She playfully pushes his face to the side when he gives her another pout. “Okie dokie, we’ll be out in a sec. . .see you in a bit!” The call ends with the clap of the main screen against the keypad. She gives him a toothy grin and rises to the tips of her toes to press a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth. “Let’s go?”

***

She’s on her bed when Cici barges into her room, a tote full of clothes hanging off her shoulder that she then drops by the closet door. “Where’s your knight with shining curls?” her best friend snorts as she plops herself down on her bed. She’d texted earlier saying that she would be hiding at the Y/l/n residence to escape the arrogance of her visiting aunt’s family.

Y/n looks up from flipping through her latest issue of Teen Vogue. “I think he should be here quarter of.” He’d left over two hours ago to help his mom and sister decorate their Christmas tree.

“I see you got your dress,” Cici notices, reaching for the bag by her nightstand. She pulls the stapled edges apart with an approving look from Y/n, then pulls out the garment until the bag falls back to the floor. “Oh damn!” she whistles, kneeing the mattress as she holds it up. “Has Harry seen this yet?”

“I’ve literally done everything in my power to avoid that,” she mutters, falling back against her pile of pillows. The implications of not going to the dance with her boyfriend hadn’t registered with her until yesterday when Zoey had showed him the exact corsage that she wanted him to get her. Now she feels almost sick thinking about Zoey’s perfectly manicured and deadly nails racking around her boyfriend’s body while she forces him to dance. And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want Harry to see her dress just yet, she wants to surprise him the day of because the petty part of her wants to send Zoey a clear message.

Cici snorts loudly, laying down next to her, and both girls just stare up at the ceiling. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you should just go together. So, what if a few people get butt hurt? Do you really want to see that bitch try to make moves on him?”

“Obviously not, but. . .” she lets out a long sigh. “Jasper.” She keeps having to remind herself that she’s Jasper’s date, and it just wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to be an absent companion. “He keeps saying how excited he is for this, and I don’t know Ci. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I don’t want to go formal with him, let alone that the reason being that I want to go with my boyfriend of what? Two weeks now?” She’s given this whole lot of thought, really, she has! Sure, the easiest solution would be to call off her date with Jasper, but she doesn’t want him to think that he was only a stand in for Harry until they finally admitted their feelings. No one should be subjected to that kind of impairing thought.

“You’re being way being too nice––maybe the pope will canonize you one day. ‘Saint Y/n’ patron saint of the criminally kind.”

She pulls a pillow from behind and whacks the side of her friend’s head, who then whacks her back with just as much force. “Stop being so dramatic, this isn’t Gossip Girl.”

“And it’s a travesty,” Cici tuts, but her eyes start to twinkle as she loses herself in thought. “If it were, I’d be Mrs. Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald by now. Don’t you think Chace Crawford and I would make the most beautiful babies?”

“They’ll have the best eyebrows, that’s for sure.”

“Right!?”

***

Friday December 19, 2008

The last day before the winter formal––and furthermore the last day until winter break–– and it’s all the students of Ashwood can talk about. At every turn, all that can be heard is who’s attending with who or what designer their dress is from. Almost all of their classes have resorted to study halls since apparently no one can stay focused for more than five minutes at a time, which really is stupid since midterms are scheduled only two weeks after they come back.

On the plus side, since they’re screening Home Alone 2 in Spanish, it at least distracts the rest of the class while she and Harry giggle to themselves in the back-left corner of the room. During the beginning of their relationship, they had at least tried to remain discreet so as to avoid all the theories of conspiracy from the school’s notorious gossips over at the Ashwood Almanac. As the final days of the year dwindle down, however, all precautions to keep everything on the down-low have disintegrated, and they’ve probably shared a few not-so-private (though none have ever been in front of a grand audience. . .about five people, max) smooches when they part ways after a long history lesson with Mr. Noone.

“As in right in the nuts?” he laughs through the question, his arm wrapped around the back of her chair as his fingers tread through loose locks. She’s telling him all about how Mason had thrown a snowball, which had actually ended up having a moderately sized rock lodged in there somehow, directly between Jeremy’s legs. And yeah, he does feel bucket loads of sympathy because he can’t even count how many times he’s had a football to the groin in his years of being an athlete, but he’s more so charmed by how animated she is when she talks about her family.

“I don’t know how he did it, but then Dad went completely cross-eyed when it hit him. Like this.” For a split second, she’s able to mimic his reaction and it has him trying to contain his amusement with her shoulder before Señora Gustavo can scold them for being too disruptive.

After a few moments settled within a comfortable silence, enough time for them to let Jeremy’s many woes fade from consciousness, their eyes meet again, and he just smiles at her. It’s one of those sappy lovesick smiles that would have surely made her knees buckle had she not already been sitting down.

“So, Mum’s Christmas Eve party, you’re all going, right?” he asks, his thumb grazing the side of her arm. For as long as he can remember, Anne’s been hosting this party every year without fail. He supposes it started when she and his dad were still together––maybe even before then––since he’s seen pictures from the early nineties before even Gemma was born. Even when they’d moved to the States, his mum has always been the sociable sort, so during that first year away from Holmes Chapel had been filled with the company of their neighbors and over a dozen of her colleagues. This time around, Harry’s excitement is beyond a scale’s capacity because his granddad is flying in to celebrate with them. After all their long phone calls, he’ll finally be able to introduce him to the girl he’s been gushing over for months.

Y/n nods eagerly. “And I already know what I’m making,” she says. There were a few options that she toyed with before falling asleep until ultimately deciding on one special dessert that she sure hopes will be a crowd pleaser come the 24th. It’s something that in theory she knows how to make, but it’ll require a few test runs and backups since she’s aiming for nothing less than perfection. “Your mom mentioned it during Thanksgiving, so I really hope she’ll like it!”

“Don’t want you going through too much trouble. Mum will like anything you make. Went on and on about those pumpkin spice cookies you brought around the house Sunday.”

“I know, but. . .” Her lips curl inward and trap themselves between her teeth. She looks down into her lap, fingers messing with a stray thread where her skit had been hemmed. “I just. . .I don’t know. Do you think she’s mad––okay, not mad, but you know. . .annoyed––at me for the whole Jasper-Zoey thing? You keep saying it isn’t, but it’s a hundred percent my fault that we’re not going together.”

“Baby, no. Don’t say that,” Harry frowns, and he doesn’t realize the new endearment to have tumbled off the tip of his tongue. “This whole dance thing doesn’t mean anything anyway, and it definitely doesn’t change this.” He gestures between the two of them, a lopsided smile spread from cheek to cheek.

Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms. “You’re being all cheesy because you want me to kiss you again.”

A loud scoff erupts from the back of his throat, and Señora Gustavo glares up from her laptop to give him another warning. There’s a moment when his face impersonates annoyance (but his arm still remains around her frame), and he begrudgingly turns his attention to Kevin McCallister wreaking havoc on his two unmatched foes. She does the same, but from the corner of her eye she sees the way his mouth plays with his words. In her head, she counts backwards from five, holding in a smirk as the numbers dwindle down. Harry pouts to himself, before he turns back to her.

“Are my chances high, at least?”

***

Saturday December 20, 2008

“Sweetheart, you look so beautiful!” Liv gushes as she brushes Y/n’s hair back, standing behind her in front of the vanity’s mirror. Y/n looks at herself carefully, her lips pulled up but pressed firmly together. The day has finally arrived, and she doesn’t think she can feel any more anxious than she does right now. Half her hair is pulled back while the rest is curled into the soft waves that fall just beneath her shoulders. Her dress is hung to the side, the sequins almost blinding as they reflect in the bathroom light.

They’d spent the last two hours doing her hair and makeup, which Liv had insisted she do herself since aside from dentistry and orthodontics, is probably her second passion in life. There’s a story she always likes to tell, about how she’d worked for a beauty salon during college for some extra cash but had ended up staying all four years because she found the whole transformation process to be exciting for both herself and her clients.

“I remember my first high school dance,” her mom continues, and she takes the dress off the hanger and signals for Y/n to stand up. “Now, my dress wasn’t nearly as form-fitting as yours. I mean, what do you expect from the 80s?” She chuckles lightly, shaking her head as she remembers exactly what she wore in her freshman year. Y/n braces herself against the wall as she steps into the pooled dress. “Philip Russo had asked me, and boy oh boy, was he something.”

Y/n snorts as she holds the lace fabric to her chest. “Does Dad know you still think about your high school boyfriend?”

Liv rolls her eyes, zipping the back up with one firm pull. “Oh of course, I talk about him every night before bed. You know what, honey? If I hadn’t met you, I would probably be living in Austin with Philip Russo and our seven kids. It makes for great pillow talk.”

“Did someone call me?” Jeremy’s voice calls from the master bedroom. Followed by his much shorter shadow, he saunters into the bathroom.

Mason scampers past his dad and wraps his arms around his sister’s legs. “You look like a princess!” he giggles, picking at one of the beads.

“You really think so, Mase?” she smiles, cupping his cheeks in her hand so he can look up at her.

The little boy nods furiously. “Yeah! And that means Harry’s your prince, right? Because the prince and princess always kiss each other, right? You and Harry kissed yesterday! I saw it!” He even looks to Liv for support. “Right, Mommy?”

Y/n digs her nails into her palms. The three of them had agreed to keep Mason upstairs when Jasper picks her up just to avoid all awkwardness if her brother wonders where Harry might be. That’s not to say that her parents are completely on board with the idea of this bizarre arrangement. Jeremy had been quite vocally against it because he much rather send his daughter off with a boy he’s come to know and like, rather than. . .well, he’s never met this other boy, so that’s already a red flag in his book.

“Now what I want to know is why you were snooping on your sister and Harry, huh?” she counters, hands on her hips and toe tapping with parental flare.

“Because Daddy said I have to keep an eye on them when he’s not home.”

Jeremy’s jaw just drops. “You little traitor,” he grumbles, glaring down at his son. “I told you not to tell the girls about our little secret.”

“Secret secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone!”

“Enough out of you.” Jeremy lifts the boy up and places him over his shoulder. It’s now that he’s able to get a good look at his daughter, his not so little girl. Y/n notices a glisten in his eyes the longer he studies her.

“Dad,” she whines, “remember you said you wouldn’t be dramatic?”

“I know, I know, but. . .” He twirls her around, a couple times before taking in her full image once more. “First, it's just a school dance, then it’s your wedding day. Jesus Christ, I’m getting old.”

***

The theme of this year’s winter formal is Winter Wonderland, and despite its cliché nature, student council and the decorations committee had managed to transform the events hall into somewhat of a festive paradise. There’s fake snow falling gracefully in the backdrop at the photographer’s station, where some of the more smitten couples strike their cutest poses as their arms wrap around the other’s figures. Dressed to the nines in their best attire, a few students are already swaying to the DJ’s soundtrack, while others mingle in groups by the punch bowl.

Harry is somewhat part of the latter category, his one hand occupied with his untouched beverage, the other buried deep in his pocket as he stands stiffly at Zoey’s side. She’s bragging about the price tag on her dress, gushing over how her daddy bought it right from the designer himself. “And he totally gave me his number and said I could stop by the New York office any time.”

“Bunch of bollocks,” Harry snorts into his cup, the fruity red liquid just barely grazing his top lip.

Zoey turns around, a sickeningly sweet and glossy smile greeting him. “What was that?” she asks, far too perky in her mannerisms, in his opinion.

“Nothing.” He takes a long sip for no other reason than to keep himself distracted. It works for a few more minutes, with him only participating in their conversation when he’s directly addressed, or if Zoey wants another damn refill of water.

Now, he isn’t quite sure what had possessed him to ask Zoey, of all the girls he could have chosen, to the dance. It was right after Y/n had told him she’d be going with Jasper, and he’d gone outside to clear his head. Who was the first (okay, second, but Señora Gustavo does not count) person he’d run into? The decision had been made in a split second, and for fuck’s sake his biggest regret is not taking a few more to think about it.

“Harry!” He turns on his heel at the call of his name, the first genuine smile of the night cheering up his downcast features when he sees Cici and Maxxie arrive through the doors. Excusing himself, he all but runs to them, enveloping both in a hug that’s filled with every bit of relief.

“Oh, thank god,” he sighs. “She’s driving me up the walls.”

Cici looks over his shoulder, brow raised as she glares at the redhead. “Are those next season’s Christian Louboutin’s? Unbelievable!”

“Jealousy is not a good look on you,” Maxxie teases, poking her side. “I’m not jealous. Just annoyed that the nasty ones always get first serve. And it’s honestly super annoying that she looks kind of good.”

“She’s beautiful. . .” Harry says suddenly, and both Maxxie and Cici gasp at his confession. The latter smacks his chest, and steam practically flares from her nostrils because she’s always had that protective instinct. Maxxie is more sensible, however, and he follows the line of Harry’s gaze right the source. It’s then he takes it upon himself to turn their friend around.

“What are you–”

It’s a scene right out of a movie as Y/n steps through the door, gently shielding her eyes as one of the moving spotlights casts down on her. Her dress reflects a light just as strong, and it manages to catch the attention of a majority of those around. She searches for something, fingers fiddling at her front as she looks unsurely through the room. It’s when she sees the three of them that she smiles widely.

“Guys!” she waves to them, lifting the skirt of her dress as she jogs over. “Oh my gosh, Ci! You look amazing!” she squeals, hugging her friend.

“I know.” Cici has never been one to maintain modesty, but it’s one of the reasons why Y/n loves her. “But look at you! Oh my god, you look like Hilary Duff.”

“That seems to be the consensus apparently,” she blushes. She gives Maxxie a kiss on the cheek, giggling when he whispers something in her ear. It earns him a pinch to his side, and he playfully huffs as he directs himself and Cici to one of the empty tables.

It just leaves her and Harry.

He has to resist the urge to reach out.

“You look. . .wow,” he’s at a loss for words.

Her eyes fall to their feet. “Still trying to get that kiss, I see.” And maybe she wishes she didn’t have to pretend like she doesn’t want to. It happens so quickly that she would’ve missed it she wasn’t paying any attention. His lips press against hers in a kiss. . .or maybe more appropriately a peck. But as her eyes flutter open, she’s met with a cheeky smile to top off an expression that constantly reminds her how in love she is with the boy in front of her.

***

She thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to see Zoey hang off her boyfriend like some pathetic sloth until right at this very moment. And she knows she shouldn’t let it all get to her because Harry had assured her over a dozen times over the phone that she’d be the only person he’ll be paying any attention to, but she really can’t help but feel mildly insecure. She hasn’t even had the chance to tell him how handsome he looks because Zoey had abruptly whisked him away as soon as Mariah Carey had started playing through the speakers. Take that, and the fact that Jasper had finally found his way to her after he’d talked to a few friends by the entrance.

The car ride here had been a bit awkward, if she’s being honest. Jeremy hadn’t been so successful in keeping Mason upstairs, and the little boy had even been the one to open the door because he had been anticipating a completely different face. “You’re not–” Luckily, Liv had been there to cover his mouth before he could say anything more. “Kids! Am I right?” And after a few quick snaps from her mom’s camera, they were off in his dad’s SUV, both sat in the back seat with the middle completely empty. There was some small talk, mostly questions of ‘are you excited’ or ‘hopefully the food is good’ and whatnot. She had tried her best, she really had, to keep things light and non bothersome, but she can sense that he knows something’s up.

“Hey,” she touches Jasper’s arm. “I’m just gonna go to the ladies’ room.”

***

When she walks out of the bathroom, she feels herself being whisked to the side. Before she can let out a yelp, she catches a whiff of his familiar scent, and it’s enough to soothe her panic.

“Are you crazy?” she giggles, looking down at the other end of the hall. “We’re supposed to be in there.”

Harry shrugs nonchalantly before leaning his forehead against hers. “Just a little.”

“Thank god we got that settled then.” She lets her hands fall into his hair, loving the way his soft brown curls feel in the slope between her fingers. For the first time tonight, she feels completely at ease as their bodies sway gently to the echo of a song. “Hi,” she whispers.

It’s then he gives her a proper embrace, holding her as close to him as he can, letting everything around them fade into the back of his mind.

“Hi.” He buries his nose into her hair. “I’m sorry this is how we have to share our first dance.”

He then pulls away just enough to look into her eyes, his heart swelling when she cups his face and presses a long kiss to his lips. The hold he has around her waist tightens as he deepens it further.

“It’s okay,” she answers when she breaks free in need of air. She giggles as she swipes his mouth of any traces of her lip gloss. “I’m actually surprised you were able to get away from your date.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry lets out a humorless snort that she happens to find greatly entertaining. “It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. I had to make up some excuse about how my stomach was feeling all out of sorts when I saw you walk out. Figured it was the perfect opportunity to get my girl alone. Plus. . .” He directs her gaze above, and she can’t help but laugh when she sees a mistletoe hung above them. Without missing a beat, his lips find their way back to hers.

***

Come talk to me about our babies!

#president!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabbles #harry styles

116 notes · View notes