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skepticalkoi-catastrophe · 3 years

Text

|Come Closer| Kuroo Tetsurou x Blackfem!reader

The following fanfic is an inspired spin-off of Deciphered by @hoeneymilktea , The Sunrise and Your Sins by @leia505 , and fanart by @aikk00 . Pls check them out as well as other spin-off authors. Comments, Reblogs, and Shares are heavily appreciated. I hope you enjoy~ ♡

Chapter [001] Flewed Out

Next Chapter 》

You stand on your toes waiting down the escalator, peering around the Tokyo International Airport. People of all walks of life gather their belongings from the baggage claim. Daize, who you just texted, swore she drove here before you landed.

Holding tightly to the handle of your suitcase, you anxiously sigh.

"Don't tell me she's late..."

To your relief, you spot her as she waved her hands rapidly. She rushes in your direction as you hug her.

"Talk about an entrance." You laugh pulling away. "It's been too long, Dai."

"Yeah a year and eight months too long. C'mon. Let's get you home."

The last thing you wanted was to be inside the airport another second. Once arriving at parked car, Daize helps with your luggage as Ms.Onishi peeks her head out the driver's seat window.

"Glad you have you back kiddo!"

Not really all that attentive to the drive you lean back watching the traffic blur. It took some thought to register for Tokyo University of the Arts. Back in the States, it was no surprise to your parents but ultimately it was a shot in the dark that you'd see him again. Time flew by, but the fireworks were just as loud. Just as bright.

You couldn't help but think about it. He had likely forgotten all about you. Staying in contact with him didn't last long after he finally graduated. Neither of you made a means of trying to revive it. Yet, you'd admit you are still hopeful.

We pull into the driveway, the front porch wind chimes singing. Daize unloads your luggage, bringing it around the car. Ms.Onishi takes off to the front door.

Nostalgia hits the soles of your feet as you remove your shoes at the genkan and put on your house slippers. Botanicals hang from the ceiling with potted plants sitting upon shelves. Its interior rustic decor as far as the eye can see.

Ms.Onishi's hand rest on your shoulder.

"Welcome home y/n"

The polished floorboards still creaked with each step you took wheeling your luggage to your room at the far end of the hall. Daize, following behind, opens your door for you. Your bed, white bookcase, and desk in their spots from before. Nothing much has changed. Even your wall-mounted CD player was still right above your nightstand.

"We tried keeping it how you left it." Daize says, switching the hallway lights on.

You put your suitcase on the floor unzipping it. A familiar routine you've followed countless times before. The Onishi's were your second family somewhat a means of escape from your real one back home.

Memories like the laughs you'd share, tears for every drop of rain on your windowpane, the music you'd play. Nights you'd stare at the ceiling counting down the days when summer would end. When you'd leave it all behind. But for the next four years you'd be staying.

Daize leads against your doorway.

"It's all coming back, huh?"

Unloading your possessions, you sigh.

"Yeah, something like that. It feels like just yesterday I was a high school freshman."

"No kidding," She stands straight folding her arms. "How's about we catch up over some boba? You can finish unpacking later."

Daize sits across from you in the booth. Placing the serving tray on the table, she hands you your drink. You take a sip, your cheek resting in the palm of your hand.

"Your taste hasn't changed." Your Matcha Brown Sugar Deerioca resting on the table. The Alley was your go-to spot during hot summers, mostly to gossip.

"Neither has yours." Her drinking The Alley Trio Milk Tea. "I would've killed to have one of these a year ago."

Ploping down, she stabs her straw into her drink. Location by Khalid playing in the background.

"You nervous about Uni? My mom told me you have a full ride scholarship." Daize gently nudges your ankle with the tip of her foot.

"It's more excitement than nervousness." You stir your drink with your straw. "Turns out I wasn't the only foreign exchange student this year."

Daize never made you feel lonely as a foreigner. From day one she made it her business to teach you the ropes but was never afraid to get her hands dirty at the drop of a hat.

"Regardless, I'm proud of you." Her doe eyes soften. She holds your hand. "You deserve it."

You nod, squeezing her hand back as a thank you. Daize's eyebrows perk upward.

"This calls for celebration! Me. You. Tonight. Let's do it!"

It never dawned on you to do much other than grab some drinks and chill. But knowing Daize, things were going to get hectic.

"Aight, I'm listenin'. What do you have in mind?"

She clears her throat for dramatic effect.

"Well, my boss was invited to an event and he said I can bring a plus one. That plus one being you."

Your Deerioca finally empty, you lean your elbows on the table. "Does your mom know?"

"Not exactly.... I told her we'd be home by 1:00am. 1:30am at the latest." A grin from ear to ear spread across her face. "They'll be familiar faces so we won't be alone."

You shake your head, chuckling. What's the worse that could happen?

"Fuck it. I'm in."

Spray-painted asphalt and singed tires mixed with laughter from people lining the streets echo. Flamboyant-colored cars are parked closely by what looks like a starting line. Scantily dressed girls roam about, making blending in easier.

You both walk through the crowd, hands by at your sides. Your baby blue lace trim mini cami dress compliments your white Air Force 1s. Diamond studs in your ears and a white bandana on your head.

"Looks like all of Japan was invited, too." Daize says, walking beside you.

Her attire a black short sleeve button down and dark ripped acid wash jeans. Silver chains dangling from her belt and platform sandals on her feet.

"No kiddin'. Reminds me of block parties back home."

Music blared from the DJ booth as people danced with their drinks in their hands. Some smoking cigarettes and joints. Bets were being placed them pointing at different cars. Possibly their drivers.

"Who's your boss, anyway? And why was he invited to a car meet?"

Near the end of the lot, groups of guys were split up into sections. Each wearing their respective colors. You're visibly tense though you keep your cool, your vision staying forward.

"Just a bit further and you'll get your answer."

The ground trembles at the bass and growling engines. You're shocked that cops haven't shut this party down yet.

Three men stand off to the side of the starting line. Their other group members stand around them as two taller ones are having a conversation. With closer inspection, you relax when you realize who it was.

"Iwa? Flatty-kawa?"

Other members around them notice you two instantly, giving skeptical looks. Clad in white and turquoise bomber jackets, the words 'Seijoh Brawlers' written on their backs. Iwaizumi turns around, followed by Oikawa at the aforementioned nicknames.

Oikawa exhales, the caramel scent of his e-cigarette escapes his lips as he spoke.

"Oh shit! Y/n?" He pulls you in for a low waist hug, letting go so he could get a gander at you. "Long time no see little cutie."

"Girly's all grown up now." Iwaizumi teases, hugging you as well.

It's been a while since you last saw them. Your old friends now young adults following their paths. Though, something about this 'event' and it's participants didn't sit right with you.

"As grown as I can be, Iwa. What are y'all doin' here?"

Kenma appears and looks Daize's way, offering you a small wave and smile. Something he usually did whenever you saw each other.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show, Haymaker."

Kenma straightens his stance as Daize steps in front of you, putting her hands in yours.

"Suprise! I'm a mechanic in training." Your eyebrows raise as she continues. "Turns out all that time in the garage with mom wasn't a waste."

You remember nights where you'd hear Ms.Onishi and Daize talk about car parts and such while you sketched. It never made sense at first. In time, you understood enough to ask questions and take notes.

"He and Cypher were scouting out recruits during a race last summer and both Indigo and I were hired. Under some conditions of course."

You stood perplexed as to respond. On one hand, you were proud. On the other hand, you were hoping she'd get a less potentially dangerous job. Ms.Onishi has told us countless stories of how she doesn't want her daughter following in her past footsteps after returning her title. The apple dosen't fall from the tree.

"Hol' up, hol' up. Why didn't you tell me sooner, Daize?" You ask, leaning on the hood of Oikawa's car. "And who's Cypher?."

"Real names aren't allowed on track. That's why we go by tag names. I'm 'Haymaker'. Oikawa and Iwazumi are 'Cypher' and 'Indigo'.

Oikawa exhales once again. "DK is gonna lose his shit when he sees you."

You were just about to ask who that was when hollering from the crowd grew louder. Owners of their cars hopped in when a girl in short shorts went to the middle of the road with a white handkerchief in her hand.

"I'd hate to interrupt our small reunion but I'm up next to race."

Oikawa opens the driver's seat of his white Mazda RX-7 Veilside Fortune. He whispers in Daize's ear before he drives off to the starting line.

Without warning, Daize snatches your arm, leading you to the finish line. Kenma following close behind.

Tonight's main race was about to begin. A few worthy contestants, each a familiar face from the last entered their vehicles. Yet, one car drove slowly behind. A bright red 2002 Nissan 350Z pulled up to the finish line next to Oikawa's car.

"Dai what are you-?"

The girls' hand high in the sky, people cheering. "You know the rules everyone! No cheating, no tricks, no bullshit. Let's keep it a good clean race!"

The wind picks up, causing the handkerchief to move. Anticipation of the crowd could be felt everywhere.

Oikawa rolled down his window, yelling.

"Get ready to have your ass handed to you!"

"On your marks, get set..." Her eyes scanning the drivers.

"Nice try bastard! I'm not gunna let that happen!" The mystery driver yells back from their lowered but tinted window.

Those you once knew have been eaten by the underbelly of street racing. You never would've seen it coming. Now you were a witness. But you aren't prepared for what comes next.

"GO!" She swipes the handkerchief down. Their engines rev before darting out of their ideal positions. Everyone watches in awe at the front runners leading the chase, nothing but smoke left in their tracks.

An exhilarating adrenaline rush courses through your body. The thought of being behind the wheel was enough to make you faint.

What did you walk into?

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Taglist: @nanastie @blissfullyrhea @s-1-xx @aiyaaayei @melbugs1

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

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Green Light

Pairing: Harry Styles X Ex Reader, Harry Styles X New Girlfriend

Genre: Angst

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol use, Mentions of Drug use, Past Infidelity

Listen: Green Light by Lorde

For the #playlistficchallenge by @harrystylescherry

The lights flicker against her skin, dancing pinks and purples and blues giving way to green as the bass thumps through the speakers. The light up floor is causing an illusion against her body as she hastily searches for her peers. Eyes darting across the club, trying to find the couple of the hour, but getting lost in the sea of drunk people dancing to a b-rate Whitney Houston cover, she’s becoming frustrated. Why play Whitney if you’re not going to play the original? She wonders, moving through the perimeter towards what she assumes is the VIP area. Being correct, she waits patiently for one of the guests to notice her, waving her into the exclusive space.

He notices her first, beaten converse and magenta tulle, she dressed to kill. Standing, he moves towards the bodyguard, pointing to her as the guard gave her a once-over. Nodding, pulling the rope back, she smiles at the stranger before deftly moving into the space.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Harry says, hand on the small of her back, flush against the exposed skin, lips low to her ear, guiding her towards their friends.

“You’re such a liar,” She replies, rolling her eyes. The neon eyeliner, drifting over her eyelids and near her brows is striking against the dim lights. The single rhinestones applied carefully to the inner corners of her eyes bounce the light off, shrouding her in a conflicting color story.

“You made it!” Daisy yells, arms reaching to pull her into a hug. It’s tight and sweaty, a sign she’s either been dancing or snorting.

“I told you I’d be here,” Her smile widens at her friend, “Congrats again on your engagement.”

“Thank you!!! Now please, drink. We have bottle service until midnight,” Daisy hands her a champagne flute, which she happily tosses back before reaching for the vodka. “If you’re good, you can have a little of what I’m having.”

“I better behave,” She responds, eyes clocking Harry talking to Daisy’s fiancé, Jack.

“I thought he wasn’t coming,” Daisy’s gaze follows hers, eying the man. His wide trousers and cropped jacket give way to the tattoos covering his chest, swallows in constant conversation. Hair recently cut, he’s scruffy and wanting, his eyes not hesitating to check her out for the second time in two minutes.

“Lies,” She scoffs, eyes rolling again at the sentiment.

“I swear! Jack said he was out of town,” Daisy counters.

“Clearly he’s not,” She looks at their other friends, nodding and smiling to the familiar faces. Their friends from uni, from work, a few from their neighborhood in Holmes Chapel have all gathered to raise a glass at Daisy and Jack’s inevitable engagement. It feels like the kind of New Year’s party Harry would’ve dragged her to, on the pretense that it would be fun to catch up. Knowing he would be right, she would’ve gone and enjoyed the company of the people who knew her before she was on his arm, the people who knew him when he worked all hours at the bakery. Tonight, their friendly smiles weren’t hitting the same, welcoming her into their embrace, no, they were darting between her and Harry, unsure where their allegiance should lie.

“Rumor has it, he’s got a new girlfriend,” Daisy says.

“Super,” She purses her lips, eyes moving to search for whoever his latest trophy was.

“Don’t be like that,” Daisy shakes her head, disappointment oozing from every syllable.

“Like what?” She snaps.

“You’re so mad he’s with someone else, when -

“I thought we were done talking about what happened between us?” She interrupts, frustration and anger coursing through her veins.

“If you were over it, you’d stop looking at him like that,” Daisy holds her own, tone unwavering.

“Fuck off.”

Handing her a drink, Daisy levels with her, “Drink.”

Tossing back whatever was in the glass, she waits impatiently for the liquor to take over, coursing through her veins and reducing her heat to a dull simmer.

In the months after the breakup, she hadn’t seen or interacted with Harry. No cursory texts, no awkward pleasantries exchanged at a birthday party, or running into him at the grocery. She didn’t speak to him, and yet he was everywhere. His voice, his favorite sayings, his touch, his music, all of it spread across the city, taunting her. She had let him go, literally, but figuratively, metaphorically, he was everywhere. Seeping into her thoughts, burrowing into her mind, never able to escape him even in sleep. Tonight, he looked at her like he didn’t know her at all, like she was the villain in his story, not the other way around. Like he didn’t let his work get the best of them, ruining what they had in its wake.

Somewhere between drinks four and five, Harry’s latest lover arrives. Scarily tall and equally skinny, silky brown locks and pouty lips, it’s clear she’s a model. Whether she was with anyone or not, the bouncer lets her into the VIP section without a second thought. She floats towards Harry, sinking gently onto his lap before whispering in his ear. He smiles at her as she places a hand on his scruff covered cheek and lowers her lips to his.

From the dance floor, she stares, unable to stop watching him move on from her. How could it be so easy?

Pulling her attention back to the floor, Daisy spins her, moving them out of sight from Harry. The lights beneath their feet give way to a soft glow about her, the colors bending against Daisy’s white jumpsuit. She’s grateful for her friend, her best friend, grateful for the distraction of alcohol and blow, grateful to be dancing and screaming the lyrics instead of sitting in the tub at home, crying into her room temperature bath water. But grateful and grieving often go together, and as her level of intoxication ebbs, the hurt of seeing Harry with someone knew, she retreats to the VIP section to gather herself.

“You must be Y/N,” The model says, moving from her post next to Harry to her.

“Um, yes?” She responds, eyes traveling up the woman’s legs, slowly making their way to her face.

“I’m Arden, Harry’s girlfriend,” Arden smiles, blinding, and sits down. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Can’t believe everything you hear,” She scoffs, grateful for the bottle of water Jack hands her before going to find Daisy amongst the neon.

“Harry speaks quite highly of you, so does Jack,” Arden continues to smile, blissfully ignoring the contempt she’s displaying.

“You’ve met Jack before?” She asks.

“Just Jack, never Daisy, she’s stunning, right?” Arden asks, laughing.

“Yeah, completely,” She nods, eyes traveling to find Daisy, her beacon in the club. She’s been best friends with Daisy since diapers, their mother’s best friends, hoping and praying they’d each have daughters to carry on the legacy of their familial bond.

“Harry tells me you’re in publishing,” Arden tries again to make conversation.

“Correct,” She nods again.

“That’s amazing, I love reading,” Arden offers.

“Same.”

“I have a lot of downtime at work, I’m a model. I just did the new Rodarte campaign, and Gucci,” Arden is trying her damnest to make this work, but her motives remain a mystery.

“Congrats,” She snorts, unimpressed by the model’s recent credentials.

“Thanks, I just want to say, I know you and Harry are at this weird point in your friendship, but I do hope you’ll work it out.” Arden is serious, glossy blue eyes resolute.

“Did Harry tell you why we broke up?” She asks, eyeing Arden suspiciously.

“A little, but I didn’t ask. It was before me so really, who cares?” Arden forces a giggle, baby blues trying to break through the tension.

“Right,” She nods, a slight eyeroll giving way to her true feelings.

“I just thought maybe you two could, mend your –

“Hey,” Harry says, making his way towards the two of you.

“Hi babe,” Arden seamlessly slips her arm around his waist, pulling him close to her.

“What uh, what are you two talking about?” Harry asks, eyes accusatory as he again takes in your stunning appearance.

“I was just saying that we’re going to Tahiti after I finish my campaign with Gucci. Relax, sit on the beach, drink Mai Tai’s, surf, or really, for me, learn,” Arden rambles on, her hair bouncing in animation, matching her words. Her deft swerve to the topic of vacation surprising, unsure why she needed to lie to Harry.

“The beach?” she asks, looking at Harry. He nods, cursory.

“Yeah,” He sips on his drink.

“Huh,” She responds, eyes narrow. “Will you excuse me? It was nice meeting you Arden.”

Slipping out of the VIP section and into the night air, she feels his presence behind her, chasing after her as she moves through the crowd and into the brisk summer air.

Not bothering to turn around, she asks, “Why are you following me?”

“Why did you just disappear?” Harry demands, coming to stand next to her. His warmth radiating onto her skin.

“You’re here with someone else,” She reminds him.

“You haven’t responded to any of my –

“Harry, you are here with someone else, the very someone else who if I’m not mistaken, is the reason for our demise,” She turns to stare at him, eyes boring into his.

“I, she’s not,” Harry shakes his head.

“Oh right, because I am the sole proprietor of our heartache and failed relationship,” Another eyeroll. Her mother used to tell her that if you roll your eyes too many times, they’ll get stuck up there. A fear she was clearly ignoring.

“You’re not,” Harry scoffs, they’d had this fight before.

“Why are you looking at me like I am?” She’s unwilling to back down, a trait Harry once loved about her.

“I’m, I’m sorry alright?” Harry’s flustered speech gives way to a run of his hand through his curls. Resting his hands on his hips, he stares at her.

“Sorry for what?” She asks again, words clipped.

“Everything,” He shrugs.

“That’s the least specific apology I have ever heard,” She deadpans. He wants to respond with some witty banter, some lighthearted sarcasm, some joke a year ago, five years ago, she would’ve laughed at. But they’re not the same people they were six months ago.

“What do you want me to say?” Harry’s exasperated.

“I want you to tell me how you really feel, because we broke up six months ago, and I still don’t understand why you ran to her, whoever she was, instead of fighting for me. Then tell me why our friends think I’m the viper, I’m the one who broke your heart. Why are you spreading rumors hoping they’ll bite me, when they just show how pathetic you’re behaving?” Her volume increases exponentially as she speaks, until she’s nearly yelling at him.

“That’s not fair,” Harry states, eyes closing as he shakes his head.

“I’m trying to let go, Harry. But you fucking have your tentacles in everything I do! You’re everywhere.”

“It’s so easy for me? You are everywhere. Every new song I write, every role I consider taking, every project. I still fucking talk to you like you’ll hear me, everywhere I go is tainted by some memory of us.” Harry spits back.

“Tell me why, Harry. Why are you going to Tahiti?” She questions, voice cutting through the cold air and going straight to Harry’s heart.

“I like the beach,” He shrugs.

“You are such a fucking liar! No, you don’t!” She yells, arms reaching towards the summer sky as she shakes her head at him.

“Maybe I’m trying out new things,” Harry stares at her, “Maybe I’m trying to be –

“What, different? Better? You cheat on me, after saying that you will always be in love with me, which surprise, you’re not!”

“Not a cheater?” Harry’s momentarily confused, a slight diversion from the rant she’s begun.

“Not in love anymore,” Her eyes are wide, confused by his lapse in memory, “You’re not in love with me anymore. You cheated on me, lied to our friends and now you’re here with little miss long legs.”

“Don’t call her that,” Harry says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Arden,”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Harry runs a hand through his locks again, sighing in frustration.

“No, you’re not. If you were, she wouldn’t be here with you. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fighting with me outside the club. If you were sorry, you’d –

“I need your forgiveness! Alright, that’s why I’m out here.” Harry’s voice raises several decibels. He’s been holding onto this for months, long before she found out, long before he willingly broke her heart.

She lets out a shaky breath, “What?”

“I need you to forgive me, to accept my apology, to, give me the green light that it’s okay to be, not yours anymore,” Harry explains.

“You cheated on me!” She yells, finger pointing directly above Harry’s heart. “I have honored you by not telling our friends for what? You don’t get to have or ask for my forgiveness, I’ve already given you too much. Forgiveness went out the window when you fucked someone else Harry! How dare you ask me to forgive you, absolve you, for a sin you willingly committed. You were in complete control of yourself and you still cheated on me. You want a green light? That was fucking it.”

She pushes past him, stomping back into the club and onto the dance floor, into the arms of someone else, someone who isn’t scared to kiss her above the dazzling lights, someone whose bedroom she’ll wake up in, unsure where she is, not caring to leave a note before slipping out into the city. And hopefully, after a few more escapades, the embrace of the rising sun on her walk home won’t echo his voice anymore. The birds chirping won’t sing his songs, and the sting of telling Daisy the truth won’t ring out over overcooked eggs and overpriced mimosas.

Harry had wanted her to give him the green light, but in refusing to do so, she watched the light change for herself.

Next: Talia

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #green light #lorde #lyric challenge #happy birthday harry #exes #new girlfriend #engagement party #harrystylescherry

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poutyhannie · 4 years

Photo

Here is some fraking Han Jisung, my bias and muse. :))

warnings: angst, college student!han jisung, college au

word count: +2k

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Nervously, you open the door to your first summer class at the university you’d be attending in the fall. Having been sheltered throughout your private school education, you really didn’t know what kind of people you’d meet at your university, being that it was home to over 40,000 students. However, you were relatively mature and could hold your own. All you needed to do act tough and above it all.

Your walls have served you well from heart ache before.

Not specifically on the field of romantic love, but of platonic love. Your last ‘best’ friend had held your vulnerable heart in her hands and utterly mutilated it to the point where its scars and scabs formed a hard, impenetrable shell. And you learned to like it that way. Being in control of who you opened up to and knowing how to act so that others wouldn’t get close to you. You never denied that it wasn’t lonely but at the same time, you’d rather be lonely and cry alone into your sheets than have a facade of companionship and cry onto the shoulder of someone who used you.

You tuck these reminders into the back of your mind as you step into the lecture hall. It could fit over three hundred students but because it was a summer class, there were about a third of that. Still, your palms began to moisten at the chitter of so many people. Studying their faces as you head to the empty front row, you conclude that most of them were just as wide-eyed as you. Except, they sooth these nerves by guarding themselves with a plethora of friends.

You’d researched your professor before enrolling in her course. She was renowned in her field, having been one of the group who was tasked with translating an undecipherable ancient text a few years back. Clapping her hands, her surprisingly booming voice silences the lecture hall, “Alright, class. First day of summer courses. Some of you are future freshmen here and some are continuing lower and upperclassmen…”

Listening intently, it’s all the more obvious when the door swings open and a wide-eyed boy hurries into the room. Internally groaning, you realize you didn’t block the seats next to you with your bag. Surely he wouldn’t choose the front row in a hall full of them. You don’t make eye contact with him as he enters the room, quickly bows and mumbles an apology, and you especially don’t make eye contact when you feel the heat radiating off of him when he plops down right next to you. Annoyed, you sigh, engrossing yourself in your notebook as the professor continues her lecture about Old English epic poetry with a forgiving smile at the boy’s direction.

Though he smells like the scorching summer sun, when he leans over, a refreshing, warm scent fills your nose. It reminds you of soft, wooly blankets, which, you tell yourself, would be horrible in this weather. “Hey, what’d I miss?” The boy whispers at you, his hushed voice irritatingly fanning over your cheek. You finally glare at him and he still wears that dumb wide-eyed expression. It falters a bit at your harsh gaze but he stretches his smile wider, tilting his head. Your stomach squeezes again at the prospect of a new person and you quickly shove your notes at him to get him to stop talking to you. Taking out his own notebook, which is yellow with patterned black bees, he nods, copying your notes. When he’s done, he gives you a content, toothy smile and hands you it back.

You chose not to notice it before, but his dyed blonde tips poke out from his black bucket hat and you wonder if he wore a hat because he didn’t shower. His collarbones stick out from under his baby blue t-shirt and the little green bird emblem on his chest is almost as cute as the bees on his notebook. He’s tucked in his shirt to his black, tech wear pants which are laced with silver chains. Looking down, you can see he has chunky, black boots and wince at how sweaty his feet must be with those fluffy pink socks poking out of his boots. Still, his lightly flushed face doesn’t show signs of perspiration. By the time you look back up to his face, he’s intently taking in everything the professor is saying. You follow suit.

When students begin glancing, antsy at the clock, your Professor reminds the class that she has office hours. Quickly and wordlessly, you shove your notebook into your backpack because that boy seems like he has a novel at the tip of his tongue. With a groan, you realize the only exit is blocked by his chair and when you turn to face him, he smiles brightly, shoving out a hand. “Name’s Jisung. I guess we’re desk buddies now?”

Giving him a tight smile and firm shake, you reply courtly, “Yeah, I’m Y/n. See you tomorrow.”

When you pass him, he still wants to say something. “Do you wanna study together later? It’d be easy to finish the homework before tomorrow then.”

You glance back at him, donning your best bored, accusatory, and patronizing look, “I don’t like studying with other people. Thanks for the offer though.”

Walking off with that cold combo, you expected to never hear from the baby blue boy again.

Still, here he is in the library, leaning over your shoulder annoyingly to stare at your book. With an amuse smile he whispers, “What question of the homework are you on?”

“23.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle, “You’re quite the reader, huh?”

You ignore his remark and ignore him when he plops onto the seat next to you. Thankfully, he pulls out a well-worn copy of Beowulf rather than talking to you. The next two hours continue in silence as you efficiently finish the ancient epic for the umpteenth time and complete the homework reflection questions. You easily fill out all them, recycling your old views of the characters, symbolisms, and plot into your answers. However, the last question in bold stops you short because of its moral aspect absent in the other, more literal questions.

“Was Grendel justified for killing those in the mead hall?”

Obviously, any reader would side with the monster slaying Beowulf, but the way she phrased the question prompts you to think that maybe she wants a different answer. After pausing for a moment, you begin your answer, something along the lines of empathizing with the annoyed monster who just really wanted the late night partying to end. Chuckling to yourself, you realize how much in common you have with Grendel.

Forgetting the boy’s presence, you relax, stretching out your arms. He looks up at you from the book, his eyes droopy and glossed over. “You done, study buddy?” He asks around a yawn.

Though the nickname prickles your annoyance, you nod and begin packing up your bag. “See you tomorrow.” Is all you can manage to give his hopeful gaze.

He’s on time today, scurrying into the seat next to you. Without a bucket hat, you see his blonde tips and black roots fully. He seemed to have showered. The boy wears a pastel pink shirt this time, chains still jingling infuriatingly at his hip. “Hey, Y/n,” he greets. You expect him to launch into a monologue—or more accurately, a soliloquy because you wouldn’t be listening—but instead, he leaves you at that and with his toothy, uneven grin.

Your Professor’s voice interrupts his dangerous smile, “My last question which asked whether Grendel was justified or not was almost entirely responded with that he wasn’t. I would disagree with that and I agree with Y/n.”

You feel his stare as you will your cheeks to stop flaming at the unsolicited eyes of your classmates.

“We always want to side with the ‘good’, with those who don’t kill that we’re so ready to don a mask of righteousness. I believe Grendel was justified because the people in the mead hall needed to be good neighbors.” She smiles, continuing, “if both sides had just shown kindness, compassion, and understanding, they’d all be alive.”

Your heart tweaks at her lecture, hitting too close to home for your guarded liking.

Though you carry out the rest of your day busily, your mind is stuck on her words. Guiltily, your mind wanders to the boy as you walk back to your dorm as the sky turns black. You had already moved in, but your roommate was going to join you in the fall so it was empty. Just how you liked it. You fill your head with thoughts of your dorm, cleaning, and classes just so that you don’t have to think about his gummy smile, his fluffy socks, or his comfortable silence. Maybe you had judged him too hard, even with your walls, you could have at least be civil. What was his name, again? He had given it to you on that first day…You try to drift off to sleep but the guilt in your heart still gnaws.

There he is again, in the middle of the Uni courtyard in the middle of the day, laughing his ass off with two other boys. Just as you force your gaze away, his meets yours, recognition spreading a smile over his face as he beckons you over. Your shoulders drop in annoyance, but you quickly remember last night’s guilt, walking over to the laughing boys.

He nudges you softly, “Y/n, I want you to meet my friends. This is Bang Chan hyung,” gesturing to a black haired, charming older boy who gives you a dimpled smile and extends his hand. “This is Seo Changbin hyung.” A shorter, cold-looking boy gruffly nods at you and you like him immediately.

Chan lifts his eyebrows at you, “We were just gonna go grab a bite, you hungry, Y/n?”

You begin to shake your head until you see the boy’s—Jisung’s, you remember now—excited eyes and how he’s bouncing on his combat boots. “Sure,” you sigh in defeat, “I’ll go.”

You learn that Chan is a lot older and has an administrative job on campus, impressive for someone so young and that Changbin is studying to become musical producer. Quite the weird mix of interests and people, but they seem to enjoy each other’s company so much, you assume there was history. When you ask about it over fries and burgers, Jisung nods excitedly, “Yeah, I knew Channie hyung and Changbin hyung were both coming here so I reeeeally wanted to come here too. I’ve enrolled for the fall but wanted to come sooner.” Chan giggles at the younger boy’s excitement and gives Jisung more of his fries.

Changbin shifts, looking at you with a calm, still gaze, “We’ve known each other since before Jisung was a teen,” he shrugs, returning to his food, “it seemed natural to continue college together.”

You feel a pang in your chest, looking quickly down. You’d always say to your best friend that you’d both get into your dream college and graduate together. Their unchanging friendship festers a longing in your heart that you’ve tried so damn hard to lock away. Thankfully, they don’t notice your moment of weakness and begin conversing about Jisung and your summer course.

“Yeah,” Jisung reminisces, laughing, “when I first saw Y/n, I thought I’d shit my pants. She gave me this glare when I sat down next to her.”

Changbin laughs, a bubbly giggle you’ve never head before, “Well you probably did something.”

Jisung’s eyes widen and he snaps his head towards you, a fry frozen on its ascent to his already stuffed mouth, his cheeks round.

“No, no,” you respond quickly, shaking your hands in front of you, gut dropping in guilt again, “A lot of people think I’m a bitch. Its not Jisung’s fault.”

Chan giggles, nodding his head eagerly, “Yeah, I’m sure you really scared our precious little Sungie.” Cries of protest and denies erupt from Jisung, who continues whining at his hyungs. You choose not to notice but you watch them longingly, the ache in your heart for someone tearing a hole in your chest.

#han jisung #jisung #skz jisung #stray kids #stray kids jisung #skz #stray kids han #stray kids han jisung #jisung imagine #jisung angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #han jisung imagine #han imagin #han imagine #han angst

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probably-writing-x · 4 years

Text

Misspoken.

Arón Piper x Reader

Request by anon: can i request a very specific aron piper imagine where y/n is a london college student and she is secretly dating him while visiting him in spain for her birthday they have a big fight where he says something like thats why you don’t deserve to be loved, she gets back home heartbroken , he is really sorry about what he said, he tries to apologize several times in her college to her but at the end he decides to surprise her with a cake and a very sweet message

Request by anon: Hi! I love your fics! Could you write Arón being protective of his gf?

Gif is not my own

Requests are open 🤍

You were relieved as you finally set your bags down in Arón’s flat and knew that this week away to celebrate your birthday was actually going to plan. With you studying at UCL in London and him working and living over here, it was difficult to ever find enough time to see each other. But Arón had been completely set on spending your birthday with you.

“Welcome back!” He grins as he turns around to face you, having carried your suitcase up.

You laugh and walk over to kiss him strongly, cupping his face as you do, “It’s good to be back.”

He grins and lets his hands fall to your hips as he walks you back, “You know, we’ve got some time before my first plan of the day...”

You cock a brow as your legs hit the edge of the bed frame, “Enough time for me to unpack?”

He laughs at your suggestion as you fall back onto the mattress with him, “Definitely not.”

- - - - - -

As Arón had said, he’d set up plans for the entire week that you were here - saying that your birthday deserved to be celebrated over the course of seven days. The first day consisted of the two of you going on a hike through the countryside and the second consisted of a long lie in with breakfast in bed. Now, that evening, you were heading out for a meal at a restaurant in town that he’d said he always wanted to take you to.

“You’ve done too much Arón,” You sigh as he fixes his tie for the evening and you finish getting dressed too, “It’s not even my birthday yet.”

“It is in Australia,” He points out, gesturing to the clock that hung on his wall.

You roll your eyes as he reaches over and takes your hand, “Ready to go?”

The restaurant was only a short walk away so you decided that the warm evening called for an excuse for the two of you to walk down to the restaurant instead of calling a cab. He held your hand so contentedly, baffled as to how he’d spent so long without it. You always managed to make long distance work - you both just knew you had to make the most of the pockets of time that you did have together.

You arrive at the restaurant and the hostess takes you to your table, right by the window with a warm candle and low lighting.

“Tom will be your waiter for the evening, he’ll be over shortly to take your order,” The lady smiles before walking back to the door.

You glance around at the fancy interior, knowing full well you’d already feel guilty about the price he’d be paying in a place like this.

“Arón...”

“Don’t even say it,” He chuckles, “It’s the night before your birthday, I want to treat you.”

You smile gently at his instant response, knowing you too well.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for this evening,” A young boy, about your age walks over, speaking in a clear British accent, “What drinks can I get for you?”

“We’ll have a bottle of champagne for the table, please,” Arón nods, glancing at you with a light smile.

The waiter still turns to you and it’s only then that you recognise him.

“Hey, I know you, right? UCL?” Tom frowns, “I think we took a class together.”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, “How are you?”

“I’m good thank you, you look great.”

It’s an innocent comment. Nothing more than a polite remark really. But you see the way Arón shifts in his seat like it’s suddenly the most uncomfortable thing ever.

“Well, it’s really good to see you,” You nod, “We’ll have to catch up soon.”

Tom dismissed himself after that and you turn your focus back to Arón.

“Who’s that guy?” He asks, trying to seem nonchalant as he scans across the starters in the menu.

“Tom, I sat next to him in a class during second year but he’s been studying abroad for this year so I haven’t seen him in ages,” You explain, looking through the endless food choices on the menu.

“Hmm, you never mentioned him,” Arón points out, not once glancing up to you.

“I don’t really remember to mention every person I sit next to in class,” You laugh a little, “He’s just a friend.”

Arón looks up and sighs a little, “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head with a smile, “It’s fine, honestly. I’d be a little cautious too if it was someone with you.”

Tom comes over and places down the ice bucket with champagne and two glasses for both of you.

“Okay, and how about food?”

Arón allows you to order first as you pick out your starter and main from the menu.

“Great choice,” Tom shoots you a wink, “And for you, sir?”

Arón shifts in his chair again before reaching out one hand and linking it with yours across the table. Tom’s eyes fall to your hands but he’s likely just in confusion like you are.

Arón reels off his order and closes the menu, “Cheers buddy.”

As Tom walks away, you turn to Arón with a sigh, “Can we please not let this affect the evening?”

Arón takes a deep breath, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I just want to make the most of our time here,” You comment, “Come on, tell me how filming’s going.”

Just like that, the two of you fall back into your old ways and everything and everyone else seems so far from your little bubble. He tells you all of the little stories from set, anything he feels like he’s struggling with for his character and most definitely tells you more than he should do about the storyline for the next season.

“How’s Omar doing?”

“He’s good, yeah,” Arón nods, “He told me he’d have loved to see you this week but we were thinking we could maybe do something in summer with a bunch of us.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” You agree, taking a bite of your starter, “Like a holiday or something?”

“Yeah, maybe, even if we all head to the beach and rent out a house,” Arón explains, “I’ll let you know. How has uni been? Did you manage to get those projects done in time?”

As your starters arrive, you chat him through everything about university - the best parts, the stresses and the work. You forget all about Tom or how Arón had reacted to his presence, maybe you would’ve done the same if it was someone unknown speaking to him. But there was nothing between you and Tom, just friends.

As the evening comes to a close, Tom comes to collect your plates. Sure, he’d made a few comments as he’d seen you through the night but it was never anything more than that.

“How was everything for you this evening guys?” Tom asks as he leans over to pick up the empty champagne bottle, “At least you can hold your alcohol better than that night in London!” He shoots you a smile.

You laugh it off and roll your eyes.

“What’s this?” Arón frowns, glancing between the two of you.

“She gets wild on a night out, such a lightweight!” Tom exclaims, going to pick up the last of the plates before walking off.

Arón turns to you, “Wild, huh?”

You roll your eyes, “He’s just being silly, it was one of the Christmas balls and I-“

Tom walks back over with the bill and sets it down onto the table.

“Here,” Arón sets down a few notes before he can walk away, “Keep the change and keep your eyes off my fucking partner next time buddy.”

Toms eyes widen a little as he looks to you and back to Arón.

“Don’t look all innocent now, I wonder what your manager would think about you flirting with someone all night whilst their boyfriend sits across from them.”

“Arón!” You warn, trying to keep composure in the public eye, “Thank you, Tom, you were great tonight. I’ll see you around, okay?”

Tom fumbles and quickly takes the money with him to get away from you as quickly as possible.

Arón clenches his jaw and stuffs the receipt into his pocket, not once looking at you.

“We’ll talk about this when we’re home,” You state, standing up from the table and grabbing your jacket.

He reaches for your hand as you step onto the path, never really walking anywhere without a small gesture like that. But you pull away almost instinctively.

“(Y/n)...”

“We’ll talk about it when we’re home.”

- - - - - -

And, as soon as you step into the flat, your patience wears thin.

“You had no right to act that way Arón,” You state calmly, coldly, “You were completely out of line and it was humiliating.”

“Humiliating?” He scoffs as he tugs the tie from his neck, “What’s humiliating is having someone flirt with you when I’m sat right across from you!”

“He wasn’t flirting Arón! He’s a friend from class!” You defend, “Believe me, Id tell you if it was anything more.”

“You’d tell me? Seems like there’s a lot you’re not telling me if you think there was nothing going on there.”

“I’m not saying it again Arón. Tom is a friend. Nothing more than that. I’m here with you, I want to be with you,” You turn around to face him, “Isn’t that enough?”

“You’re oblivious (Y/n)!” He’s losing his patience now, “God! This is why it’s so hard to love you sometimes, you don’t deserve-“

“I don’t deserve what? I don’t deserve to be loved?” Your voice breaks at the words as the clench on your heart tightens beyond repair.

All of his anger drops instantly, “No, no, babe, that’s not what I meant.”

“Forget it,” You shake your head, “Let’s just go to bed.”

“No, no, come on, love,” He goes to reach out for you but you snap your arms back instantly.

“Don’t call me love. The one that’s hard to love, huh?” You swallow the lump in your throat, “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

You change out of your clothes in silence, do all of your typical routine in silence and eventually settle into the bed without a word too. It’s cold in the apartment, too cold for such a warm evening. You wrap your arms around yourself in the place where his should be.

“Please talk to me (Y/n),” He sighs as he sits on the edge of his side of the bed, “I can explain, l didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine, Arón. I don’t want to talk now.”

- - - - - -

The following morning, even though it’s your birthday morning, you make the decision to book onto the earliest flight available and start collecting up the few things you’d actually unpacked since being here. Things would only get worse if you stayed here, and you couldn’t put yourself through that. Arón was still asleep just as you were picking up your bags to meet the Uber outside.

“(Y/n)?” He frowns as he reaches out to your side of the bed and feels that you’re not there.

You glance over at the innocence of his sleeping form and feel such a reluctant desperation to go and lay back next to him.

“Whe-where are you going?”

“I found an early flight, I thought I’d get out of your way,” You explain, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Get out of my way?” He scrambles to sit up, “(Y/n), it’s your birthday.”

“Right, and I don’t want to spend it with someone who finds it hard to love me,” You state coldly.

He sits on the edge of the bed and looks toward you, “You really think that’s how I feel?”

“I think that’s what you said last night, and I don’t care if you didn’t mean it. Words like that can’t just be dismissed by you saying that you didn’t mean them,” You shake your head, “So, I’m going back to London.”

“So, what does this mean? You want to end things with me?”

You glance down at his bare torso, looking so innocent in his appearance, the moon and sun tattoo on his chest always being your favourite.

“I don’t know Arón,” Your voice trembles, “But I can’t risk being with someone who would ever tell me that it’s hard loving me. I’m sorry.”

- - - - - -

The next few days in London are the real killer. You chose to skip out on celebrating your birthday at all and had instantly been wallowing in your own self pity ever since you’d got back. Arón had been trying to call you relentlessly but nothing had worked. You couldn’t imagine picking up the call, knowing yourself too well to think you’d ever be able to resist hearing his voice so pleading. Part of you regretted leaving that day. But he’d hurt you. And you couldn’t just let that pass.

You’re just about to leave to go and get a coffee from the local Starbucks when there’s a knock at the door of your flat. You expect it to be one of your friends, trying to encourage you once again to come out with them.

When you open the door, you’re met with something completely different. Unexpected above anything.

“Arón, what are you doing here?”

He’s in your doorway with a rucksack over one shoulder and his hands held around a brightly coloured cardboard box, “Nobody deserves to celebrate their birthday on an aeroplane.”

He hands over the box and you open it to find a birthday cake inside with the numbers of your age in candles placed firmly in the centre. It’s decorated simply and he’s managed to pick your favourite.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” You smile politely, setting the box down onto the side as you’re still reluctant to let him inside.

“No, I did. And there’s a lot more that I need to do,” He sighs, “Just hear me out, okay?”

You hold firmly onto the door handle like it’s going to steady you at all.

“(Y/n), it’s not hard to love you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you on a beach in Spain, to the time you tried to teach me to surf, to now. It’s never been difficult to let my heart do what it was always meant to, fall for you. You make every part of that easy. And you give me another reason every single day to love you. I don’t know how, but you do. It’s so fucking easy to love you, and you deserve every piece of you to be loved and adored and cherished,” He says the words so confidently that you believe them over anything else he’s told you, “It’s not hard to love you. What’s hard is letting myself love. Letting myself be so fucking vulnerable that I give half of myself to somebody else. It scares me that you’ll ever find someone who can give you more than I ever could. That can be more for you than I am. But I promise you I’m getting there, and I also promise you that - if you let me - I’ll prove to you that you will never be hard to love, ever.”

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rubidusmagnet · 4 years

Text

Beaches and Sandcastle contests

One Piece of Summer Prompt: Beaches, Sandcastles (or sculptures)

Characters: Uni, Heart Pirates

@doctorgerth and @laws-yellow-submarine

Uni was grateful for the time off given to them from their Captain, since after all, the log pose for the island the Tang had currently stopped at was a rather peaceful and benign oceanside beach town known to attract tourists of all kinds including pirates, it was because of this later addition of consumers that prevented Law from fully giving into all the under the sun fun he and the rest of the crew were having, taking full advantage of their shore leave depite the stipulations to stay close to the submarine for now if they planned on having some ‘careless’ fun as their local grumpy boss had put it.

Speaking of that party pooper... Uni tossed a glance from where he was floating on a blue and white striped tube in the surf up towards the beach where Law had relegated himself to at least spend his time sunning himself in yellow trunks beneath the sun on either a towel or against Bepo whenever the Bear came back from soaking himself in the ocean waters, never seeming to mind the small numbing affect such a light splash of sea water probably gave him. Ah, and there he was, it seemed the two have fallen into a short nap by the rise and fall of both of their chests.

Uni need not worry for his Captain getting sunburned as he knew the surgeon was plenty paranoid about matters regarding the health of the body. Instead, he took the time to lean his head back with a squeak of his tube, lazily drifting his long limbs into the cool soothing waters occasionally as he let his thick and fluffy dark brown hair get tugged by the lazy tides.

It wasn’t long however, until his brief lazy drifting was interrupted by a series of harsh splashes before he was suddenly grabbed by someone and dragged off his tube and into the shallow water unceremoniously. Quickly reacting, Uni stood up to his full height before he could accidentally swallow sea water through his chosen solid dark blue bandana for the day. Once he was fully upright, the water from which he was floating on only reached his mid chest while his annoyed dark gaze flit over the amused visage of a certain mischievious Clione who was wadding before him, at least he could take some pleasure in the fact that he was taller than the other.

Waiting for the perfect moment when Clione went to open his mouth to say something, most likely cheeky or playfully taunting to him. Uni launched forward to his surprise and tackled the other into the water with a loud splash, holding onto the other tightly beneath the water for approximately 30 seconds before releasing him and following him back into a stand, his face though hidden from view, now sporting a self satisfies smirk at the others brief gagging.

After coughing up the small amount of sea water he accidentally inhaled on the initial take down, Clione turned watery eyes to a smug looking Uni by the now amused glow in his eyes. Oh have the tables have turned.

“You’re pretty damn sadistic yourself ya know that Uni? Almost like the Captain it’s practically scary to think about.” With a shiver, Uni watched as Clione muttered about ‘Clone Laws’ under his breathe with crossed arms as Clione swiped a hand through thoroughly mussed bowl cut bangs in irritation at being thwarted in his own game.

“Ya know, I actually came out here to tell you something important Uni.”

Raising a disbelieving brow, Uni sought to put down that little theory right away.

“Then why did you drag me off my tube to drown me?”

Jaw dropping, Clione responded back with a punch to his shoulder. “Hey! I wasn’t trying to drown you! if anything, you were the one trying to take me out instead!”

Continuing to play with him for a little bit longer, Uni maintained false seriousness which in a way, was like his own imitation of their Captain with the sadistic gleam coming over Uni’s eyes.

“You know Clione... If I really wanted to drown you, I easily could since you and everyone else knows how long I can hold my breathe, I can even rival Bepo at that!”

A gasp was heard from Clione. “You wouldn’t”

Uni tossed him a wink. “Who knows?”

Realizing where this was headed, Clione had temporarily forgotten about exactly what he intended to say to Uni in the first place and in a bid to escape, attempted to flip himself back wards and began to shuffle and wade quickly through the water until his feet touched sand.

But unfortunately for him, he could not match Uni for speed, so once more, Uni quickly grasped around his middle from behind and in a show of strength, suplexed him headfirst into the water for only 10 seconds longer than before before finally letting up.

Once the two finally dragged themselves ashore after a bout of rough housing in the water did Clione remember what he was going to say, but that wasn’t until after Law got his two cents in, peering at the two of them behind shades while sipping his cool drink. Apparently the Captain was awake unsurprisingly.

“You really should watch out Uni, one of these days you’re gonna drown Clione by accident you know.”

Dramatically gesturing with both arms towards Uni who had to stifle a chuckle at the action, Clione exclaimed. “See! this is what I have to deal with waking up to each day!”

In return for the jab, Uni finally returned the friendly punch from earlier in kind as Law tutted at them from the side before going back to relaxing on his polar bear recliner, who only shifted minutely in his sleep on occasion.

“Well anyways Uni” Clione moved to grasp Uni’s arm to guide him along the beach to where some of the others were apparently gathered. He could see Penguin and Shachi get into a tussle as Ikkaku moved to break them up with a smack to their heads seeing as they were approaching. While slightly behind the group sat Jean Bart who sported black and white tiger-striped trunks on his person, looking gruff as ever as he watched the two first and second mates grasp their smarting heads which were still clad with their hats.

His attention was drawn back to Clione as he explained why he so wanted him to join his impromptu group activity. “I was thinking of a nice little contest we could host with whoever creates the best sand sculpture of Bepo wins a prize.”

Eyebrows raising at the word prize, Uni figured it had something to do with their usual system of winner gets out of chores for the week, but with Clione he wasn’t so certain about that, it could be anything.

When asked what that prize was, Clione simply shushed him with a finger over his lips and a wink before splitting off as they made their way into the small group.

As the apparent leader of such activities, and seeing as everyone was there that Clione had invited and accepted, he began to hash out the rules, of course stating that he was to be the de facto judge of each sculpture as well as the prize giver. To which Uni rolled his eyes at while Shachi and Penguin gave a few boos. “Shouldn’t I be the judge? I’m 2nd mate after all!”

“Hold on! I should be the one because I’m first mate here!”

In order to get a step on Penguin, Shachi pointed out the fact that maybe Bepo should judge since he’s the model after all. But one quick group glance over to the sleeping Mink changed everyones minds quickly as no one dared to disturb his slumber, especially if the insomniac Captain was resting with him as well.

“Well anyways, if it wasn’t obvious already, there will be a time limit for you guys to finish up on your Bepo sandcastles before I come and check them out... and no sabotaging is allowed are we clear?”

A huff sounded in unison, especially from the two disheartened first and second mates who had hoped to get in each others ways during the little competition. “Understood.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The time limit as Clione called it was just within the next hour, he held off on starting the timer until everyone had gotten out the supplies necessary in creating their own depiction of Bepo. Buckets ranged from small to massive in Jean Bart’s case to be used in order to pack wet sand together along with various sculpting tools if necessary.

And in order to make room for each other depending on the size of it, and considering the sheer size of Jean bart’s hands, it was believed that his was bound to be the largest sculpture of them all.

As the timer was set, everybody got to work bringing buckets of sea water over to their area of beach to begin the sculpting process. And not wanting to sike himself out by looking at the others progress, Uni began to mold together a large round mound of wet sand with full intention on using the currently sleeping bear mink as his model.

Unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t the only one with that idea as a majority of the group bar Jean bart were going for the same idea.

‘Guess it’ll be down to who makes the best sleeping polar bear huh?’

Uni didn’t mind the extra pressure of having to compete against other sculptures of a similar type, since after all, he was typically reliable under pressure. The ones he specifically didn’t have to worry about winning was Shachi and Penguin who judging by the disappointed moans and groans coming from their direction, meant they were both not having a good time with their sculpting abilities or lack thereof.

A singular glance up was all it took to confirm his suspicions as he moved onto forming the basis of the limbs and head for his miniature sculpture. Apparently the pair had been foolish enough to believe that being closer to the surf would help strengthen the stability of.... Whatever it was they were trying to make as it was not remotely anything like Bepo.

An amused huff passed Uni’s lips before he continued on his way, now onto scraping out excess sand in order to best mimic a face for the beloved navigator (It looks something like this- :-3). Pleased with his work there, Uni continued on to using the tips of his fingers to create small claws after he cut up the ‘arm’ mounds to mimic fingers. It really was unfortunate that Bepo chose to lay on his stomach as Uni was looking forward to potentially recreating those soft pink pads of his but oh well, maybe next contest if he happens to be the model again.

It wasn’t long after he finished up on his attempt at ears did Clione’s loud voice call for an immediate stop in sculpting. Now it was time to declare a winner.

Uni’s earlier assumptions were correct when with just one look at Penguins and Shachi’s sand sculptures, he shook his head at them and continued on, not needing to say anything to the pouting 1st and 2nd in commands. And there was no winning for them anyways with the piles of sand and sticks poking out that looked more like a sand monster than any kind of mink.

The pair were quickly shushed before they could disrupt Clione’s ‘concentration’ in selecting a winner when to uni it should be obvious who it was. And he wasn’t being presumptuous by believing he won at all, because even though he and Clione were best friends and like brothers every other time, Clione got serious when it came to these silly little contests, especially when he got to be the judge. So whenever events like this happen, No amount of closeness was going to sway Clione’s scrutiny in his favor as much as Uni might secretly want it to.

The top three was down to himself, Ikkaku, and jean Bart now. though it wasn’t long until Uni was knocked out for an apparent lack of ‘realism’ in his attempt. And Uni shrugged it off, he wasn’t exactly aiming for the win but to only spend some time with his nakama but now it was down to the wire, only the sole woman on their crew or jean was going to get the win now.

And gods did it take a while for him to decide. Clione had gotten extra quiet at this point, with his chin cradled between his left thump and forefinger in deliberation. At the very least, he was doing a good job at making the other two sweat waiting for his final judgement.

Finally, without really any explanation, Clione pointed at Jean Bart to indicate him as the winner of the contest. And giving the half-giants sculpture a once over, Uni had to whistle in agreement. It shouldn’t have been a contest at all considering the detail the former slave was able to get down to and with the biggest model of all of them, it seemed Jean was able to practically recreate a life sized version of the navigator standing up no less!

Ikkaku’s though going with the trend everyone else had gone for, was actually much neater than Uni’s which was probably exactly why he had lost if he had to guess. Not to mention some neater detailing as well, but nothing was going to beat jean and Clione said as much.

“Sorry for giving the rest of you guys hope, but Jeans is the best hands down.”

A hum of agreement rang our around the circle, it was practically agreed upon right then, that this model should be allowed to stay up for as long as possible while the rest were quickly stomped on to rejoin the rest of the beach as a flat soft surface.

Letting his lanky body drop down onto his back, Uni didn’t dare look up to see exactly what Clione had to give as a gift for Jean. Nor did he mind listening to the others still at play all around him. The contest being over, Uni wanted to take the time to get some rest himself as Bepo and his Captain were doing. The grit and dampness of the sand actually doing their work in settling him into a light nap at the natural feel of the earth below his body.

This day as any other time was bound to be a precious memory for Uni to keep in his heart for all time until another one can be made. The simplicity of it all left a smile on hidden features as he closed his eyes for just a little while. He could definitely count on someone waking him up for supper time in the galley should he fall in too deeply into the land of dreams on future adventures.

#one piece of summer #Ummmmm I might have practically written chapter here but here we go #doctorgerth #laws-yellow-submarine #Day at the beach #Heart Pirates #Ikkaku #Uni #Penguin #Shachi #Bepo #Jean Bart #Trafalgar law #And what gift did Clione give?#who knows #only Clione does #Clione

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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Firsts / #4, “The First Time Meeting The Old Best Friend“

*not my gif

---> NEXT BLURB: November 16th at the lastest, hopefully.

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

sorry i forgot italics in this one, it’s just too much sometimes to go back through and do

WARNINGS: Swearing?

WORD COUNT: 9k words

SONG: If I Didn’t Have you from Monsters Inc. (CLICK TO LISTEN)

* SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

The irony that sits in the possibility of replies sickens me, because there’s little else I want more than to sit down and have dinner with him. The normalcy and the ignorance to how things have so drastically changed, and so quickly.

I wonder if I have enough time to leave, but no, I can’t. He’s noticed, and knows that I’m home. He’s expecting me. If only he could know how that same feeling has overflown inside of me, and been pushed back down each and every time, a hunger that was never fed. I hang my coat, place my keys on the ring beside his, and leave my ankle boots on the mat by his chestnut brown chelseas, just like every other time. In every way I still find it dreamy, but it’s not the same, no matter how much I wish that I could pretend that it is.

“When I love, I love for miles and miles. A love so big it should either be outlawed or it should have a capital and its own currency.”

- Carrie Fisher

His humming pulls me from the lines of text growing hazy and forgotten in front of me. Tearing my eyes from my lap, I find him kneading his bottom lip between his fingers. A corner of my mouth greets my cheek as I observe him flip a page and his eyebrows sink closer to his pair of greens, concentrating.

“What are you humming?” I ask, cocking my head to the side and narrowing my eyes. The sound stops and his eyes shoot over to me, brows still hugging his eyes, now in confusion.

“Hmmm?”

“What song are you humming? I don’t recognize it,” I explain, standing from my seat. The smooth, tiled floor is a welcomed cold against my bare feet that plod a path towards his tall bookshelf.

“Oh, that. Um, Junk by Paul. God, I love that song. ‘ve been listenin’ t’ him loads with tha concert comin’ up. You should too, babe.”

“I will, thanks for the reminder,” I tell him, winding my arms around his neck and pecking his cheek. Watching the dimple fall into it, a happy hum radiates through my chest.

“Whatcha wanna do fer dinner t’night? We could eat those leftovers from last night, or I dunno, heat up a can o’ soup. Perfect weather fer it right now, ‘d say.”

“Both sound good. You can call it, but I’m going to go and refill our teas,” I answer, leaving another kiss on his stubbly cheek.

“Oh, thank you, love. I hardly noticed, been so engulfed in this bloody book.”

His smile matches mine when I look over my shoulder, his empty mug in hand as I slide my flats back on. Voices trickle out of the doors I pass on my way to the breakroom. Excitement leaks from them, questions, hushed whispers, and then, a name I recognize.

“Can you direct me to the office of Harry Styles?” a blonde woman asks Amelia at the front desk. With a hand on the door, I turn back around to watch.

“Yes, of course. And your name was?” Amelia asks in her sing-song voice, hands poised on the computer keyboard, probably checking the schedule.

“Penelope-.”

“Oh, hey, Becky. Filling back up too, I see,” somebody says, drowning out the rest of the woman’s words.

“Why does that name sound familiar?” I mumble to myself and only her, watching as Amelia types away. “Sorry, what’d you say, Ash?”

“I just saw you’re getting a refill too. After you,” he almost wheezes, but I don’t take note of it, my eyebrows still in a dip after what I just saw.

“What’s that look for, huh? Is somebody not happy to see me?”

“Of course not, Ash. I just saw- I dunno what I even saw,” I confess, setting down my pink mug I pluck from the cupboard, and Harry’s black one in front of the electric tea kettle.

“Everything okay? You look a little lost, or something.”

“Yeah, fine,” I say slowly, trying to remember if Harry had said anything about wanting coffee instead, but he’s already had two cups, and tries to stick to only two these days. It’s already almost time to go home for the day, anyways. Sighing, I pull open the tea drawer and pluck out an English Breakfast and a Peppermint.

“I heard you and Harry nabbed that huge McConnell case that everybody’s talking about. Congrats on that,” Asher comments, sticking a hand into the drawer after I moved to the side, ripping open the tiny packets.

“Oh, thanks. No pressure, or anything.”

“You’ll do great, don’t worry about it. If anything, it’s a good thing you have Harry. If the bloke is good at one thing, it’s winning cases,” he insists, and I only nod along as I free the string from the bags to place in the mugs.

A mumbled confirmation leaves my lips as the steam from the scalding hot water wafts over my face, filling the mugs, one and then two.

“We still on for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Ash. Talk later,” I smile at him, pushing my back against the door and turning around to walk down the hallway.

Juggling the two, steaming cups in my hand, I take my time walking back to Harry’s office. Quickly, I find that I’m not the only one on my way there, and soon, I pass Amelia on her way back. Smiles float between us, but mine falls away for some reason, and in only a matter of moments, I’d have so many reasons why.

His head is bent over that same book, and a hand missing that summer glow rubs over his tired face. I can see him from down the hallway, and my vantage point would end up being regrettable, if only I’d known.

“I didn’t know running your own firm was so tiring, Styles,” the frosty-blonde girl says when she stops in his doorway, and he immediately perks up.

No, that’s my nickname for him, I think immediately, stopping a few paces behind her.

“Nelly?!” Harry exclaims with absolute sunshine radiating from his face. “Hell, look at you. T’ what do I owe tha pleasure, love?” he continues in a voice brimming with astonished happiness, standing quickly to hold out his arms towards her.

“I was in the neighborhood and figured I might as well finally come and see you and My’s firm. It’s about time, sorry it took me so long,” she giggles in her posh accent, walking right into his arms where he holds her against him for several moments. Something twinges in my chest at the sight of it while I try to remember when I’ve heard him speak about her. I know he brought her up once, or somebody else did, but I can’t remember what they’d said. Who is this person?

“Yer bloody right ‘s ‘bout time, only took ya years and years. How’ve ya been? Ya look good, thirty looks smashin’ on you, y’know. Married Ben yet?”

“Thanks, but I reckon it looks far better on you, Styles,” this woman laughs and it sounds like a song, but I’m not sure if it’s one that I like. From the appearance of his crinkly-eyed smile, Harry likes it. “Nah, we split a few months back.”

“Damn, ‘m sorry t’ hear ‘bout that,” he remarks softly while she picks up and looks at things on his desk. His eyes roam over her, but I can’t blame him, because so do mine. They drift over her cropped, curly hair and the long-sleeved, polka dotted dress. Polka dots have never been my thing, but somehow she makes them look sexy and far from childish all at the same time.

I watch as she picks up the framed pictures sitting on his desk and when she grabs the largest of them all, something flits across her face before she hastily places it down. I only wish I could’ve seen what it was. Shaking my head, I lift a foot to turn around while her voice wanders over to me, and then his.

“I heard you’ve found somebody new, no longer with Amber, I see.”

“No, we’ve been split fer a few now. Ya, that’s Becks,” he comments warmly, and the next few of his words I can’t make out, until I hear some that I can’t ignore. “There she ‘s now. Hey, babe, c’mere. There’s sumbody I wantcha t’ meet!” Harry calls down the hallway to me. Gulping, I look up and down the other side of the hallway before turning around to find the smile of my boyfriend. One of my favorite sights, if not a little duller now.

The few moments it takes me to walk to his office are awkward, knowing that they’re watching me and my movements. I suddenly wonder if I need to touch up my makeup, fix my hair, or how this new, black dress really does look on me.

“Thank ya, love,” Harry smiles when he takes the black mug from my hands to sip from. My own lips fall when she plucks the pink mug from my hands with a similar notion, completely devoid of any apology or embarrassment, and neither is Harry. What the- “Nell, this ‘s me girlfriend and colleague, Becky Holte. She worked here as an assistant o’ mine befo’ she finished uni, and came back last January fer an associate position. She’s me mentee and ‘m her mentor fer tha next few years while she finds her footing, workin’ primarily with me on cases, includin’ tha new McConnell one.”

“I heard about that, Harry, congratulations. That’s very exciting . . for the both of you,” she grins from behind her mug of tea. My mug of tea.

“Oh, sorry. Becks, this ‘s Penelope Hautten, or as we fondly call her, Nelly,” he introduces, and she offers a small wave and an awkward smile. Yeah, you have no bloody idea how awkward this is. “We met in uni fer law in our cohort, same with Rose and Rory.”

“Hi, it’s great to meet you. I’d love to say I’ve heard loads about you, but it’s been a minute since I’ve spoken to Styles over here,” she says, holding out a hand tanned from fake tan that I reluctantly shake when I hear her next comment made in laughter. “I’m sorry we had to meet like this, I’d be upset seeing another woman being all over my boyfriend, too.”

“No, you’re okay,” is all I say at first, feeling a little better when I feel Harry squeeze my arm after swinging one around my waist. “It’s nice to meet you too, I think I’ve heard Harry mention you before. He sure has a lot of good things to say about all of his fun in uni.”

The words bring loud laughs to both of their lips, and for a moment, I think that I need to as well. I find it awkward to not be laughing, but by then, it’s far too late to begin.

“I just wanted to stop by to say hi and congratulate you on getting this case, it’s a rather big one. Actually, maybe we could talk some more about it over dinner? I was just on my way to Lenny’s on this side of town,” Nelly says, and yes, I do see the little glance you give to me before you bat your eyes at Harry.

“Thanks, Nel.’ ‘d actually love t’ pick yer brain ‘bout tha case, and over a sandwich and soup sounds fantastic, ‘specially with this cold weather comin’ in. Great timin’, ‘m starvin’,” he remarks with an eager smile, rubbing a circle into my back before it falls. “Becks, you don’t mind, d’ya? Maybe ya could see if Rose needs help with anythin’,” Harry comments after setting down his tea, raising an eyebrow at me. He nods almost instantly, walking around his desk to grab his Northface off the back of his chair to pull on.

“Yeah, I’d love to consult on it with you, Harry.”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” I mumble, lifting a hand in a lousy wave as they’re already walking down the hall and away from me. Their loud and happy laughter floats back to me as the image of her arm hooking around his waist burns in my eyes.

“Was that . . ?” somebody says, breaking into my thoughts. Blinking and turning my head, I see Rose standing in her doorway, down the hallway. “Oh god, was that Penelope?” she groans with a shake of her head, stopping when she sees me standing there.

“Yep, in the flesh. She took my tea,” I say with a turn of my palm to the sky, taking slow steps until I arrive at her side. I join her in watching them get on the lift with smiles stretching their lips. “And my boyfriend.”

“I never liked her.”

“Why not? Wait,” I ask and then pause, furrowing my brows as thoughts race around behind my eyes. “Was she the one in your friend circle in uni who- No, please tell me that’s not the one who had a crush on Harry?”

A sigh is all that graces my ears while she tucks a daring lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes and yes,” she answers.

“God,” I groan, losing a hand in my hair. “And she just stole my boyfriend for a dinner date, when we were just going to go for our Taco Tuesday. What the fuck?” I exhale, letting my hand fall with a slap! to my leg.

“You better keep a short leash on him when she’s around, that’s all I’ll say.”

“Rose-,” I begin, turning to look at her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to scare you, love. I’m sure everything will be fine, it’s been years since all of that happened, she’s bound to have changed, or so I hope.”

“You said everything would be fine, and you know what, it’s not fine!” I exclaim, dropping my bag onto the chestnut colored chair in front of the desk. Inhaling, the breath passes my lips shakily, and I turn away to look around the office.

“Becky, what’s the matter, love? What are you talking about?”

“Her. Penelope . . She’s on the McConnell case with Harry, instead of me,” I reveal gently, but the words falling from my lips feel like anything but that to my heart. Sniffling, I swipe a hand across my cheeks.

“What, how do you-.”

“I just saw him in the break room. You know what, I didn’t see him all last night. He didn’t come home until late. I went to sleep in an empty bed, and woke up later around eleven when he came in, and didn’t say a word to me. But in the break room, I run into my boyfriend, my mentee, my boss, who are all the same person, and all he has to say to me is that he’s switched me to your case and her to his. He didn’t have time to say anything more, because what’s-her-face slinked in and stole him from me. Again. Rose, I-I don’t like this, what the fuck is going on?” I finish, spinning around to look at her through the hazy tears sitting in my eyes.

“Oh, Becky love, I’m so sorry,” is all she says before pulling me into her arms where I let the tears fly.

“Am I stupid for getting so upset over this? I dunno if I am, because I looked her up on Insta last night and her stories were of them getting dinner and drinks together and she put hearts all around him on it. T-Then, this morning he barely kissed me on the cheek before breaking the news to me, and nothing more. No ‘I’m sorry for replacing you at dinner last night’ or ‘I’m sorry for coming home late and not responding to any of your texts last night,’” I cry, catching whiffs of her floral based perfume, feeling her sigh before hearing it. “I’m not going through another fucking Amber phase with him, she was one and done for me. I don’t like this, I just want him back.”

“Come ‘head, love, time for our weekly team meeting.”

I remain silent, staring at the laptop screen unblinkingly, wishing it was the voice of another now saying my name.

“I don’t want to . . she’ll be there . . with him,” I answer, switching tabs and scrolling through my search results on the Silver Net database.

“Becky-.”

“I can’t, Rose, okay?” I nearly retort, turning my head to look at her patient, brown eyes. “You didn’t hear the stuff she said to me yesterday.”

“What’d she say to you?” she hurriedly replies with concern, sitting down on the chair next to me, pulling it over so she’s facing me.

“It’s what she didn’t say,” I respond, closing my laptop but nervous to meet her eyes. “With just my luck, I ran into her in the break room yesterday, just when I was starting to feel better the day after getting dropped from Harry’s case. She was asking me about him, and well, me. How long I’d known him, how long we’d been dating, blah blah. Then she couldn’t shut up about how she’s known him for over ten years, how they’d have all of these late study nights in the library together, and how they took their Bar together. Then, he came in and she just continued, rattling off the cases they won together in the beginning when they got their first real lawyer jobs. She knew what she was doing and so did I, she was showing how much better she is for him, and how I’m . . not.”

“As if anybody fucking asked her,” Rose tuts, shaking her head vehemently and getting to her feet. “You stay and keep checking on those statements we got, okay? You don’t have to come to the meeting, I’ll just debrief you when I get back.”

Nodding, I lift the lid of my laptop again and switch to Docs.

“Becky?”

“Yeah, Rose?” I say, my eyes flitting to the door where she stands with her hand on the doorknob.

“You’re sure you aren’t going to talk to him about this? I think the sooner the better.”

“I would, if I could get him alone, but I can’t. It’s like she’s always there, even outside of work, he’s out doing something with her. I dunno, I give up.”

“I’m really sorry, love,” she frowns, emphasis in her voice and the bend of her eyebrows.

“Thank you, Rose,” I answer with a small smile, watching her return it and leave the room. I almost jump when I hear the ding of my phone, and scrabble to pry it from my pocket, only to be disappointed with a text from Skye. As well as the memory staring back at me, teasingly, from my lock screen.

If only I could go back to that day, or just rewind life by a few.

The flecks of snow leave cold puddles in my hair as my fingers wrap around the cold handle. Gulping, I don’t twist it, and instead, I just stare and listen. I listen to the happy hum of music I hear coming from the other side, and to the obnoxiously nervous thrumming of my heart. He’s home, and for the first time in three days, it’s before eleven o’clock. I want to savor it, but the repressed thoughts have turned sour in my heart, building upon each other throughout the prior days.

The new cold that has embedded itself into the wind and the trees around me, is what brings me inside. Maybe there’s an ounce of wanting to see him, or a contradicting whole lot, but it’s the sudden cold that I can’t handle anymore, and how it’s much too like the same absence that’s grown in my chest.

“Ya hungry, babe?” he calls to me, the sound of the door opening something I’ve only gotten used to recently, but he’s mastered by now. Breathing in, I chase a deep breath, but it’s lost. Wasting the time until I have to walk past him, I sink down onto the bottom step to pry off my shoes. “I was gonna make sumthin’ fer dinna, but ‘m not sure what. Anythin’ sound good t’ you? Oh, I was wonderin,’ why weren’t you at tha team meetin’ t’day? Ev’rything’ alright?” he continues, despite my lack of an answer. The irony that sits in the possibility of replies sickens me, because there’s little else I want more than to sit down and have dinner with him. The normalcy and the ignorance to how things have so drastically changed, and so quickly.

“Becks?”

“I’m not hungry,” I softly decide on a few moments later, padding into the kitchen where he still stands in his work clothes from today. The shiny black number adorned with velvet edges now absent, and my ever favorite, the leopard button up. The pain still sings behind my ribs at the appearance of it in its lonesome, untucked from his slacks.

“How are ya not? ‘s five o’clock, love. I know ya have yer lunches at one, so ya must be starvin,’” Harry comments, but how would he even know? The fridge makes that noise it always does when it opens, the soft pop before the whoosh of the refrigeration. “Hey, where are ya goin’? I could make a pizza, or some spaghetti fer us.”

The words that he requires to his questions escape me, and in their place, sit the impatient ones that have been patient for far too long. Yet, I can’t find the right ones to say that feel right, but then again, all of this feels so wrong. Not one moment from the last few days has felt anything close to right.

“Becks,” he says, urgency laden in his voice, and I wonder why I didn’t just walk up the stairs and away from him when I had the chance. “Hey, why’re you ignorin’ me, love?”

If that didn’t do it, his hand on my shoulder, soft as can be, does. I try my hardest to not melt into putty in his hands, but he sidesteps that entirely, and walks around to stand in front of me.

“What, it’s only okay when you do it?” I bite back, but the fervor isn’t there in my voice. No, not yet, but it’s not what does it for him when he sees my face. It’s barely there, but the way his eyes widen, and his lips part tells me that he too feels the tears warming up my cold-bitten cheeks.

“Becks, I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout. What’s tha matter, love?”

“Please, don’t lie to me,” I begin, a sob near and not too far. A swallow to wet my voice is anything but that, and I know it will only get worse as his eyebrows fall into the deepest V I may have ever seen.

“‘m not lyin’ t’ you, bug,” he insists, cocking his head. A whimper sounds from my lips when I pull my arm out of his grasp, and the effect is immediate, firstly in his eyes.

“You forgot about me, Harry. Our Taco Tuesday date . . watching the new episode of American Horror Story last night . . watching FRIENDS every night at dinner . . reading Harry Potter together every night before bed,” I say, the sob beginning its place behind my lips. “Ever since Nelly walked into your office on Tuesday, it’s been all about her! We’ve hardly spoken the last three days, and when we do, it’s ‘Nelly this,’ and ‘Nelly that.’ I’m your girlfriend, Harry, and I got fucking demoted by you, again!” the exclamation is dry, and yet with the sadness that leaps from my insides, no longer patient.

“Honey, ‘m sorry,” he tries with sorrow and everything else sewn into his features, but unlike every other time, I don’t want to take it and run. I don’t want to give in, or settle.

“Sorry doesn’t always cut it, Harry, you know that. You dropped me from your case without even asking me so you could have her help you! When we were talking about taking the case, you told me that it would be such a great learning experience for me. My first murder trial, and you gave it away to her! She’s seen how many murder trials, how many courtrooms, and known you for how long, Harry? It’s like I didn’t matter anymore the second she walked in your office. You didn’t answer your calls and texts, or if you did, it was hours later. I saw you on her Instagram story getting dinner and drinks every night this week, instead of having dinner at home, with me,” I explain, the tears wetting my lips chapped from the cold wind. “I don’t understand, Harry, what did I do or what didn’t I do? What does she have that I don’t?”

“Becks, please-,” he starts with a sadness in his voice that I don’t want to place or take ownership of.

“She loves you, Harry, I know it,” I say, and then, it all changes. His face does, and so do his words. He changes.

“What? What would make ya say that?”

“Don’t play dumb, Harry, I’ve seen it. I’ve only known her for a few days, and I see it. I see it in the way she looks at you, how anytime I’ve tried to talk to you at work this week she steals you back from me, and how much she sells herself to sound like you . . how she’s so much better for you than I am,” I tell him, the emphasis at last arriving in my voice. The bravery.

“She doesn’t feel that way ‘bout me, she never has. We’re jus’ good friends, ‘s all.”

“P-Please, I said don’t lie to me,” I stutter, squeezing my eyes shut at the sound of his words. The sting of the denial. “She does, even Rose told me she has ever since uni, Harry! Why can’t you see that?”

“There’s nuthin’ to see, Becks, ‘s jus’ best friends reunitin’ afta a few years. Ya wouldn’t understand . . ,” he spits back, disdain heavy in his voice, and now in my heart.

“I’m supposed to be your best friend, Harry, but I guess, not this week.”

“Jealous much?” he tuts with a shake of his head, his upper lip curling as his face takes on the look of . . somebody else. “Y’know what, ‘m sorry I dropped you from tha case, and yer all bitchy ‘bout that. I wanted t’ work onn’a case with me best friend fer ol’ time’s sake. I don’t see what’s so wrong with that! There’ll be how many mo’ murder cases, if that’s what yer really upset ‘bout. Nelly, she’s not in love with me, so stop bloody sayin’ that. Fookin’ f’get dinna, I don’t even wanna be ‘round you right now, yer bein’ pathetic and all jealous,” he retorts, and any words I had to say are drowning in the tears that crowd my cheeks.

“Harry, please. Don’t,” I beg him, turning to watch him walk away and shove his feet into his boots by the door.

“No, Becks. ‘m goin’ out fer dinna . . with Nelly. ‘ccordin’ t’ you, that’s all ‘m good at as of recent,” he says, and his voice drops when he says her name. So does my heart, and I’m sure it shows on my sleeve, because a hint of My Harry appears on his face just for a moment. Only a moment of regret and realness. I don’t wait to see if it remains, and dash past him to take the stairs two at a time until I find the guest bedroom, wishing that I could collapse onto our bed without it hurting me all the more.

It’s a few choked breaths until I hear the door to the garage slam, his car start, and then leave.

I guess I got my wish, afterall, to be alone.

The slamming of the door is what I hear next, and what lifts my heavy head from the pillow. Muffled curses pricks at my ears while I rub at my heavy eyes, a yawn leaving my lips. Blinking slowly, my eyes begin to fall shut and the pillow greets my head once more. Licking my lips, I grasp at the edges of the striped pillowcase, the remnants of my dream coming back to me. The sounds around me soften and so does the rest of my body, unbeknownst to me the hour, or the memory of the fight earlier. Nor did I know of the man who nervously climbs the stairs with a hole in his heart, searching for me.

“There you are,” he says, but I hear it in my dream, or so I think. Opening my eyes slowly, sleep is all but lost as his steps creak across the floor after opening the door noisily. “Oh, shit. ‘m sorry, I woke you up.”

I’d fall back asleep, ignoring him and it all, but I can’t after I hear the way the words fell from his lips. The subsequent sniffling and whimpers that adorn his words. Lying there staring into the darkness, my eyes slowly start to open more and so does my mind, and perhaps my heart. Having slept in another bed that wasn’t mine, I want more than anything to not have to fall asleep in an empty, cold bed tonight, without him. I just want things to be okay again, and to be normal. I had never before coveted the normalcy that we had only days ago, and how unknowingly happy I was living amongst it.

It pulls me to my feet and across the room blindly, and into his arms. For the first time in days, the tears don’t find me, but as I breathe in his smell, they belong to him now.

“Becks,” he cries from above me, his chest shaking under my touch. Sighing, all of the unspoken grievances spend themselves onto his skin, and hopefully, out of my heart. Little did I know.

“I don’t want to fight anymore, Harry, it’s okay.”

“‘s not okay, Becks, ‘s really not,” Harry continues, and as if in slow motion, I pull myself away from him. The glow of the streetlamp illuminates his features painted with sadness, and their rivers.

“Harry,” I begin, afraid of the words mounting on his lips as he presses his palms against his eyes.

“You were right,” is all he says and I’m stepping away, muttering frantic ‘no’s until I touch the bed, and sink onto it. His hands fall and in the scattered light amongst the darkness, I see the impending words weighing on his lips. “S-She kissed me . . t’night at dinna, we had been drinkin’ and . .”

The ‘no’s are lost entirely within moments, and my head falls into my hands. An emptiness that had been building within my gut over the last few days only intensifies, and if I’d eaten anything for dinner, it would have been lost by now.

“I stopped her, Becks, believe me. Please. I-I told her that she can’t, and I didn’t do it, too. I didn’t kiss her back, baby, I promise you that. ’m sorry, Becks, ’m so sorry,” Harry weeps. The floor creaks, but I’m too far away to know what it means, until his face falls into my lap. “I pushed her away, and told her that yer tha one I love, it could never be anybody else. I could never feel that way ‘bout her, I said that too, and how I love you so much and ‘ve been tha worst boyfriend t’ you ever since she came here . . . I-I made her leave, Becks, I swear. S-She’s gone and ‘m so fookin’ sorry I let this happen, baby, ‘m so goddamn sorry. I love you. I love you so fookin’ much, and ‘s only you. ‘s only ever been you.”

With a choked sound, I stand up and hardly feel the carpet pass under my feet, or the wooden steps that come next. I hear my name, the one that he gave me so long ago, and only swears by. Again and again, it comes, and I listen, but I don’t. After a while, the sobs bursting from me cover his voice, but they could never silence it. No, not my favorite sound in the entire world, and yet, at this moment, it’s the one that I hate most, because of the words it said.

“Becks, don’t. Baby, please,” he begs when I grab the keys and pull on my shoes. “Don’t leave. ‘m sorry, I promise she’s gone and isn’t comin’ back. You can’t leave anyways, ‘s a blizzard out there. They’re sayin’ people shouldn’t be drivin’ in it, ‘s tha first snowfall like this in October in a hundred years. I don’t want sumthin’ t’ happen t’ you.”

Stopping, my hand freezes on the handle, just like it did only hours before. Only then, things weren’t nearly as bad as they are right now. Sniffling, my shoulders fall and shake harder than before, and so do my words, “I don’t want to be here,” I sob, helplessly.

“I know, ‘m so sorry, Becks. ‘m so sorry,” he continues from behind me. I wait for the sound of his footsteps but they don’t come, and I’m not sure of my own, either.

Standing there, I’m uncertain of how much longer I can do it, to stand. Our cries fill my ears, and the ache of all aches weighs in my chest. With every second, it feels as if my legs are going to forget me, but there I keep standing, for how long I’m not sure.

“‘ll go, ‘ll leave you be. ‘m gonna pack a bag and stay at Myles’ down tha road . . Eat, babe, please. Have sumthin’ fer dinna,” he announces, and I swallow, past all of the anger and upset living in there. Blinking, the tears waiting in the dugout leave, and I see the cream of the door. I see all of the memories that happened even just there - the nights tripping in from too many drinks, the first nights at his place together, coming in after walks around the neighborhood, or surprising him after work with takeaway. They play before my eyes until freezing at the feeling of his lips on the crown of my head, and I close them. I wish that it could be like any other time, but the trembling of my lips tells me otherwise. “I love you, so much, Rebecca Ann. I love you, love you, love you,” he whispers before another peck, and then, he’s gone.

I don’t remember leaving him, or making my way to the downstairs study, falling into a fitful sleep on his futon with the sights and smells of him dancing around me. I only remember wishing that this was all a nightmare that he could wake me up from, and to not have to wake up to it, again.

The shrill sound of my alarm is what brings my eyes open the next morning, instantly groaning. Turning over, I press Snooze on my phone screen, again, and catch the picture that I haven’t been able to get myself to change. I could place it anywhere - a visit to The National Gallery to see Monet, Harry’s recent infatuation. It was a selfie gone wrong in front of the painting, Bathers, and instead features our large smiles in a blurry photo.

The time continues to tick away on the wall, and with every second that passes, life comes back to me, and walking back into my heart. I lay my head back down on the pillow and watch how the early morning sunlight peeking in through the shades dances across his study. The spines of his favorite books filling the shelf on the wall. Reflections painted on the screen of his trusty iMac. The ghosts stare back at me from the framed pictures around the towering object. His mum, sister, grandparents, the team at the firm, and then, there’s me. It’s the shiniest of all, absent of dust, and is in the biggest frame. He’s not even in it, like the others, because it’s just me. The pink and brown, patched quilt falls to my waist when I sit up quickly, squinting with my contactless eyes to see it. I had no idea he had printed it and framed it, to have in here, a snapshot of me from my birthday with a bedhead and a tired smile after opening presents. The accompanying frames hug the sides of his computer, but this one- no, not this one. It almost obscures the monitor itself, it’s so close, and it makes me wonder all the more if that says anything for how he holds me in his heart.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter under my breath, stabbing at the lit up number amongst the rows. Dragging a hand through my hair, sighs fill the air whilst I smooth down my wrinkled slacks, hoping I don’t look as shitty as I feel, like I know I do.

Not soon enough, the office comes into view, and I rush in. “I’m so sorry,” I apologize profusely, shaking my head as I set down my things in her closet where hers sit as well. “I just- I had a really terrible night, I know it’s no excuse, but-.”

“Would you stop apologizing? You overdid it when you rang me on your drive here, don’t worry so much, love. We all oversleep sometimes. I’m just glad you didn’t miss the team meeting, come on then.”

“God, another one? That has to be like two too many this week . . why?” I groan, following her out of the room with slumped shoulders. The realizations and realities don’t hit me until the second before I step foot into the conference room, searching for him. He’s nowhere to be found, and of course, it only makes me feel all the worse. I snoozed my alarm too many times and overslept, missed breakfast, forgot makeup, and now, my boyfriend I’m fighting with is MIA from work.

Could this week get any worse? Hmm, perhaps I shouldn’t jinx it, now.

“Where’s your lover boy at?” Rose taunts, but when my eyes stop their investigating, I find that she’s looking around with pinched brows, too.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” I answer softly, watching as more people fill the room, plucking bagels and muffins from the platter in the middle of the table. It would be calling my name typically, but no, something else is right now, somebody else.

“You go and find him.”

“But, Rose, they’re going to start-,” I begin, until Myles’ booming voice interrupts me from the front of the room.

Her firm green eyes don’t shy away from their answer, “It’s okay, go, Becky. He doesn’t usually miss these things, anyways. He’s gotten good at actually showing up to them for once,” she says with a soft smile, patting my arm and nodding at me to follow her words.

Nodding with a grateful smile, I weave around the cluster of familiar lawyers finding seats, and slip out the door. Searching the halls nearby is the first thing I do, but I’ve never been very lucky with that, and I’m not this time, either. I think I have it in the bag when I push open the door to his office, but despite the warm light pouring in from the windows and the ceiling lights, it’s a ruse. Harry’s not here, either.

Whirling around, I take a step towards the door until my mind catches on something. With careful steps, I turn back around and walk over to his desk, and I notice it. The mess. It hasn’t been this unorganized since well, when I worked as his assistant. He’s always kept it clean since I started working with him again, always having a place for everything, and keeping it that way. This is odd.

That’s pitched back onto the pile, forgotten, when the sun glimmers on something reflective. With another step, I catch sight of it, and like the other one did so perfectly, the guilt starts to bead inside of me. Inhaling suddenly, a smile lopsides my lips as I reach out to touch it. It’s just like the other one, and yet it isn’t, and in the best of ways.

As if it’s a mirror, my face stares back at me, and in so many ways. My staff picture for the firm that he took of me on a pair of steps on a walk together during lunch. Me riding the carousel when I had to be four or five. Pigtailed primary age me kicking a football along the field in a yellow jersey. Chubby-faced me smiling at the camera with only a few teeth to call my own, drool running down my chin. A candid of me at a staff party, and one that was long ago, when I was just his assistant. One to remember, a shot of me moments before my very first case with Harry, all dolled up in my lawyer attire. In the center of them all, they sit taped to a larger picture of me smiling so hard my dimple popped, in front of a path of autumn trees. A day only just a week ago if that, I realize, while admiring it.

Sighing, I reach a hand to brush underneath my eye, but I bump his white Apple mouse in the process. It wakes up his iMac and the sight of his screen is soon clouded with tepid tears. They fall, tasting briny against my lips, and heavy with guilt. In all of my time working with him, before, I had seen his computer. I had seen his laptop background. I had even seen his lockscreen, and it was never of somebody. No, it was a painting, song lyrics, a grocery list, or a sample background. It was never of a girl, but this time, it is. It’s him and me, some secret snap from a hike with Robbie this summer, overlooking the peak but smiling at each other while the sunset colors wash the sky.

God, I really do need to fix this, right now. And if I had any plans for what that would be like, they’re stolen away by the wind when I look up.

“Hey,” he says softly, worrying away at his bottom lip. His warm gray suit flutters when he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and if it weren’t for the lip thing, I know from this too that he’s nervous. Anxious or not, he looks unforgettable in that suit - the very one he donned for our first date, and I requested for so many more that he finally told me ‘no,’ because he had so many others.

“I was looking for you,” I reveal slowly, my voice shy and distant, although I try so hard.

“I was jus’ lookin’ fer ya too.”

Silence falls into the space between us and claims it, separating us all the more with the desk in between us, and his figure across the room. Words fill me to the brim, and I didn’t know it a moment before, but these ones are impatient too. They grow heavy and needy when I see the glassy look to his eyes, and then disappear altogether when the first tear drips down his cheek.

“‘m so sorry, Becks. I know I fooked ev’rythin’ up, and I understand if ya wanna break up- I-,” Harry weeps, his voice giving out on him. His dingy, flat curls move when his head shakes from side to side. My heart aches with each beat, and only sinks further when those pretty greens run away from me to hide in his hand.

“Harry,” I begin in the worst of sighs, my rushing feet not quick enough to get me over to him. “You didn’t fuck everything up, you’re not even capable of that. Breaking up hasn’t crossed my mind, I promise.”

“What?” he breathes, his hands falling at last. They’re slick with tears when I wrap them up inside of my own. Shock paints his face and stills the tears in his eyes that glue to me immediately.

“Just shut up and kiss me already, big head,” I refrain, freeing his hands and grabbing his face until my lips touch his. Surely, I’ve surprised him, but it’s only seconds until he kisses me back. Her face pops into my head, and I kiss him harder. The thought of her kissing him comes next, and I lose my fingers in his hair. I try to find my ground by focusing on the feeling of his stubble underneath my fingertips, and his smell. It smells like home.

“Baby, ‘m still so sorry,” he mumbles against my lips in between kisses.

“It’s okay,” I assure him, pressing pecks to his mouth with hurried breaths. The image of his wet green eyes find mine again, and it’s like my heart didn’t just get sewn back together in the last minute like I’d thought.

“‘m sorry, Becks, fer ev’rythin’ this week. Ignorin’ you, droppin’ you from tha case, comin’ home late, and our row last night,” Harry starts with tears growing in his eyes. Shaking my head, I pull him against me, and find his neck with my nose. “I was such a prick t’ you, I can’t believe it. Ya don’t deserve tha way I treated you or talked t’ you. ‘m so sorry.”

“I know, Harry, it’s okay. I forgive you, it’s okay,” I coo, trailing my nails against the back of his neck, catching the soft curls there. “I was to blame too, I should’ve talked to you right away, and not waited. I-.”

“No, don’t, Becks. ‘s not yer fault, none o’ it, it was all me,” he insists with a sob. I shush him, and lay my head on his shoulder, wishing to know how I could make this all go away. Hushed ‘it’s okay’s fall from my lips as I rub hearts into his back, wishing I could rub and rub until it was all better. Finally, the silence feels comforting, and no longer dangerous.

The sniffles have slowed and almost stopped once I pull away, catching a tear budding on the end of his nose. A corner of his mouth greets his cheek as he catches one under my eye.

“I’m sorry I got so upset last night over that stupid kiss. I know that you’d never do something like that to me . . it wasn’t your fault, Harry,” I say, brushing my thumb over his untidy stubble along his cheek.

“Thank you . . ‘m sorry I didn’t believe ya and got all defensive ‘bout whatcha said. Yer me girl, nuthin’ will ever change that,” Harry hums, sponging a kiss to my forehead. “I got so excited t’ see Nelly at first, but she kept tryin’ t’ keep me away from you, and I shouldn’t have ignored it.”

“It’s okay, it’s all over and done with.”

“Mmmhmm,” he hardly smiles, looking down at me.

“I’m your girl, huh?”

“Always, baby,” he confirms, his lips slowly spreading to shine that sunshine on me. “Hey, why tha tears when I came in, bug?” Harry shushes, leaving kisses along my face until I’m giggling.

“Your pictures,” I say amongst the attack of kisses, hearing his confused ‘hmm?’ from somewhere on the other side. “Nothing, I just- I know. I really know, now.”

“Good, silly girl, wantcha t’ never f’get that. Yer all mine,” he nearly sings, his lips drifting to my jaw and then my neck. “Love you, love you, love you.”

“I love you more,” I sing back in reply, but then my breath catches when his giggle tickles my ear. “Don’t you dare! Harry!” I chuckle.

“Do what, love?” he asks, the mischief sparkling in his eyes when his lips leave my skin to smile at me now.

“I swear to God, Harry Edward,” I titter, my words collapsing into laughs.

“I love you most,” he claims with a loud wheeze, tittering into the corner of my neck soon, making us both laugh.

“That’s my line!”

“Seems I got t’ steal it this time, bug, and fook, did it feel good t’ finally get t’ say,” he comments, earning a dramatic sigh from me. “So, what d’ya say t’ skippin’ tha team meetin’ like ‘d planned, and orderin’ brekky and catchin’ up on that show o’ ours?”

“Perfect.”

“Good answer,” he smirks, touching his lips to mine before pulling me in to wrap me up in my favorite place in the whole wide world, his arms.

“Are you ready yet? God, I swear you take longer than me, Harry, and I’m the gender who’s said to take the longest in the bathroom!”

“Ya well, ‘s not very hard t’ bloody braid yer hair, throw on some gym clothes, and a hat, now ‘s it, Ms. Holte?” he calls back, and I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. With a sigh, I take a seat on the bottom step and let my chin fall into my palm.

“Oh, would you stop? All you had to do was spray your hair and spike it, and write some words on your face with eyeliner.”

“Be nice t’ me,” he remarks from above me, his voice coming closer. Cocking my head, I see a glimpse of him until at last, he comes into view. His grumpy face doesn’t last very long when he sees the dimple fall into my cheek, and soon, so are his. “How do I look, Ms. Green?”

“Great, Mr. Geller. You really nailed the nineties spiked hair,” I say, my words falling into a giggle that he shakes his head at.

“Why thank you, ‘m rather proud o’ it too.”

“I still can’t believe who you said we should go as instead.”

“Keep teasin’ me and maybe we will go onna break,” Harry jokes, arriving at the bottom stair and soon returning to sit beside me with his pair of Old Skool vans in tow.

“Hush,” I retort, knocking shoulders with him. Smushing the hat back against my head, my head falls onto his shoulder and I wind one of my arms around his. “You did good on the whiskers, I like them,” I note, dragging the back of my finger against his baby-smooth cheek.

“Thanks, babe,” he mumbles while pulling on his shoes. Turning to me, the fake, black whiskers are obscured by his lovely dimples. “Ya really did do a great job with yer costume too, love, and t’ think we jus’ used what we had. We’re rather nifty, ‘d say,” he says, tapping a finger against my nose.

“Thanks. I can’t wait to see how cute we look together.”

“Then let’s go look, shall we, Rachel?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, and I nod as he kisses my forehead.

Taking his hand, I stand up and follow him through the house until we arrive in the main floor’s bathroom, staring into the floor to ceiling mirror. A laugh immediately sputters from my lips and one from his too.

“God, we look stupid.”

“I hope that means we did good with our costumes,” he titters, inspecting his hair until I softly swat at his shoulder. “Ya really outdid yerself with tha pigtails, babe. Me black cap looks great on you, as does tha rest o’ yer outfit that’s mine. Ya always blow me away by how sexy ya look in me clothes.”

“Okay, bud, would you chill out?” I chuckle whilst he sponges kisses down my neck from behind me now. “Harry, we haven’t even left for the party yet and you’re going to mess up your makeup.”

“‘s okay, ‘s supposed t’ look a li’l messy since Ross was drunk in that episode.”

“Harry, stop it,” I giggle when his lips wander to below my ear and his hands to my ticklish waist. “Kissy time can wait until later, mister.”

“Hmmmph, yer no fun.”

“I’m sure we’ll both be loads more fun when we’re tipsy later,” I note, taking his hands in mine and leaning into him.

“Oooo, don’t tempt me, babe. Already wanna kiss all over you, yer not helpin’.”

“Harry, I’m dressed as Rachel from the football episode in nothing but sweats. How in the hell is that sexy?” I wheeze, squirming when his fingers find just the right place on my ribs, because he’s gotten it memorized by now.

“Told ya that ya look like sumthin’ else when ya wear me clothes. Plus, there’s never a time where ya don’t drive me mad with how beautiful ya are.”

“Harry,” I sigh happily, opening my closed eyes to watch him litter kisses along my face in the mirror. “You know, I bet we’ll even win best couples costume.”

“Hmmm, ya think?” he wonders aloud, lifting his head to look back at us, and in my eyes. Gently yanking on my pigtail, I giggle as I turn around and thread my arms around his neck. “Y’know what, reckon we look cute t’gether even as Ross and Rachel, but always as Harry and Becks.”

His sunshine spreads a wider smile on my face as I hide my blushing face in his neck. The olive green button down of his slips under my fingers from behind his neck, and then again, I see the cat face scribbled on his face and ‘Ross’ written on his forehead from that one episode of FRIENDS.

“We make a good team, huh?” I ask him, my fingers dancing over his beaming face.

“Ya, we sure do, babe. And we’ll make a better one if ya don’t mess up me makeup I took far too long t’ put on.”

“Okay, fine,” I relent, my thumb drifting along his cheekbones before it finds his bottom lip. “How’s this spot?”

“That works just fine.”

“Oh, you don’t say?” I snicker, pulling down his warm lip only to have it spring back against his teeth.

He shakes head with red cheeks while humming a response, but it doesn’t go very far until I envelope his lips with mine, sure that I’m screwing up his makeup but neither of us care. The kiss only grows sweeter when I think of the last Halloween that we spent together, and how this one is already starting off miles better.

We really have made it, haven’t we?

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writers-hes · 4 years

Text

five years.

hello! here is the first part of a five part series called “five years”. it’s inspired by an article i read in the new york times. i really recommend/suggest you read it here.

five years -- year 0.

in which harry and you meet for the first time.

WARNING: unedited.

contains: fluff !

----------

“Danny!” Harry yelled as he saw one of his mates from his English classes. Harry was currently a psychology student, set to graduate in a few months. He was well known around the campus for being loud and kind to everyone. He was a part of humanitarian orgs and liked coffee a lot. He was usually hanging out at The Bean, a small coffee shop near uni. To him, The Bean was his second home. In fact, Angela, the pretty barista already knew his usual order. Harry tried to ask her out on a date and they went out for one date only to realise that it was weird, seeing as they treated each other like how siblings do.

“Hey, Harry! Nice to see you,” Danny greeted back. Danny was Harry’s classmate in a couple of his Psychology classes. He was tall and lanky. He had shiny black hair that he dyes every other month. He wore thick-rimmed glasses because of his bad vision. He was also Harry’s best friend in uni. He and Harry liked to study together because Danny always had the complete notes and Harry always had something else to say that would make the subject easier to understand fro Danny.

“I already ordered myself some coffee, by the way.” Harry said as he motioned to his glass tumbler. “You can go ahead and order something that you like I’ll wait out here,” he added. Danny nodded and walked towards Angela. He ordered two cups of coffee—one caramel latte and one homemade milk tea. He paid and waited for his orders and went back to his table with Harry.

“Uh, is someone else coming?” Harry asked as soon as he saw two reusable glasses of caffeine.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, H. My friend is coming over. She’s a Lit major and she’s picking up some of the books she lent Zo,” Danny said. He laid the milk tea down and took out three books from his backpack, all collections of poetry from Charles Bukowksi, Oscar Wilde, and Ocean Vuong.

“So you buy her a drink, huh?” Harry teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Nah, not really. It was Zo who told me to buy her a drink,” Danny rolled his eyes. “He didn’t even give me some money for it,” he grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Dan. I’m sure you’ll get something else later!” Harry joked and laughed. Zo was Danny’s boyfriend for two years. He was also taking up Lit and met Danny through one of their English classes.

“Shut up, Harry!”

———

“Say, what time is Zo’s friend coming over?” Harry asked. It’s been forty-seven minutes since Danny arrived. The ice from the tea Danny got her condensed. Harry stared at the layer of water separated from the layer of milk and tea.

“Uh, not sure,” Danny said, looking up from his notes. “I told her that I’ll be here for the whole day and she said that she’ll be here after she’s done with her classes.” Harry nodded and went back to reading his notes. He wondered who could it be. Zo and Danny never really mentioned that friend…perhaps they were new? It’s not like Harry loved to be nosey—it’s because the milk tea was starting to deteriorate and it’s so damn annoying.

“So, are you letting her drink that?” he said, pointing at perfectly good drink forty five minutes ago.

“Don’t know. Might drink it myself. You can have it if you like, I’ll get her a new drink.” Just then, Danny’s phone let out a ‘ping’. “Ah, she’s outside. I’ll just text her to come in here,” Danny said, typing for a few seconds on his phone. The door opened seconds later and there was you.

You jogged on to where Danny was sat. “I’m sorry I made you wait, Dan! I had to stop by one of my professors to submit my classmates’ papers,” you breathed.

“It’s alright, misery,” Danny chuckled. “Oh, by the way! This is Harry,” he said, motioning Harry who was already looking at you. You smiled uncomfortably. “Harry, this is y/n, but Zo calls her ‘misery’,”

“Why did you submit your classmates’ papers?” Harry asked.

“Oh, I’m the beadle for my creative writing class,” you replied.

“Where are you going to next?” Danny asked.

“Oh, I’m going to Kismet to study,” you tell him.

“Kismet is closed, didn’t you hear? They’ve been doing some renovations. You should study here instead,” Harry interjected. “Besides, Danny got you a drink from Zo,”

“Oh, uh—is that okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about him,” Danny replied. You take a seat beside Danny and in front of Harry.

“Thanks for the drink, by the way. I’m sorry I’m late,” you whispered to Danny while leaning on his shoulder. You took the cold glass of tea and mixed the water with what Danny really paid for. You took a sip and finished it in seconds, to avoid the tea getting more watery.

You loved to wear sweaters even on summers. You loved to have your hair tied up so your hair wouldn’t get in the way of your clear-rimmed glasses. You had poor eyesight and a bad back. You liked tea and coffee but loved hot cocoa the best. You’re the sweet day on a hot summer. You were welcoming and warm.

“By the way, it was nice meeting you, y/n.” Harry said from across the table.

———

Harry never really saw you after your encounter even though you saw him all the time. You just knew when he was near. He never left your mind ever since you met him at The Bean more than a week ago. You were always watching out for him and the possibility of him bumping into you and saying “hi” made you more alive than caffeine. What was with that curly haired boy?

“So, I heard Kismet is finally open…” Zo said. You just finished one of your classes together and had a four hour vacant.

“Ah, can we go there please? I miss my rose latte,” you pouted.

“It’s not even that good. You just order it because it makes you feel like a Tumblr girl,” Zo chuckled.

“Hey! Not true. I really like the taste! It’s not that sweet and not that strong either,” you retorted while bumping your sides with him.

“You know who would like it? Harry. You met him, yeah?”

“Yeah. I still feel a guilty for making him and Danny wait. Please tell them I’m sorry,” you pouted. Zo smiled at your sincerity. He knew that Harry and Danny didn’t mind—they were literally the most patient people he ever met. Well, not so much for Harry but he’s good enough.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the campus, Harry was rushing to get to one of his majors. He had his textbooks and iPad in hand while speed walking to the designated room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled repeatedly. He couldn’t believe he didn’t notice the time. He was too busy catching up with some of his friends from high school who visited. He was zooming past the corridor when he heard a loud ‘hey’. He turned around and saw you with one of his dear friends, Zo, behind him. He lost balance and fell on his butt, his iPad and books lading on the floor.

“Harry!” Zo gasped as he jogged to Harry. “What happened?”

“Was rushing to my psych class and lost balance,” he huffed. You jogged towards the scene and started picking up what fell down.

“Here you go,” you smiled as you waited for Harry to get back up on his feet. He took his stuff from you. He was so red and you couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

“You’re so red! Are you sure you’re alright?” you asked.

“Yeah…happens to me all the time,” he mutters. He looks at his wrist watch and sighed. “gotta go! Say hi to Danny for me, Zo! And it was nice seeing you again, y/n!” he said as he shuffled and power-walked to his next room.

Harry couldn’t believe it. Before he could even ask for your number, you saw him falling down like a wuss. How will you think he’s cool now? It’s not like he fell in a cool way. He groaned and slowly treaded in front of the class room. He entered and thanked the universe because the professor wasn’t there yet. He sat in his usual seat and opened his iPad and got his Pencil when he received a text from one of his mates, Louis.

Louis Tomlindaughter: oi! u wanna go down to niall’s for the viewing party?????

harry: Can’t. I have to study for a major exam tomorrow.

Louis Tomlindaughter: nerd! next time if you say no im gonna go there my fuckin self and drag u smh !

harry: Sorry. Maybe next time.

Louis Tomlindaughter: alright then but if u dont get a good grade in ur exam im gonna tell y/n how dumb u are ! hehehe 🤭

Louis knew that Harry had a crush on you. Right after he met you, he met up with Louis and Zayn for some burgers. He couldn’t stop gushing about how warm and nice you were. He didn’t stop talking about how you offered him half of your chocolate chip cookie. He also didn’t stop talking about how pretty you looked that time in your baggy sweater and clear-rimmed glasses. Louis never really knew you or bothered to. Zayn and you knew each other because you would aways see each other at Kismet. It seemed like you and Harry ran in the same social circle but you just never really met. He didn’t even wanna go to class anymore. He just wanted to go to you so you can finally talk to him without the interruption of academics. When you were at The Bean, you barely looked at each other, too busy studying and highlighting notes. He sighed.

Danny: hey are you going 2 niall’s viewing party l8r???

hairstyles: No. I have a major exam tomorrow.

Danny: u can study w zo! im leaving him alone tonight and u know how he is. he loves study dates because it makes him focus

hairstyles: Oh? Alright. I’ll text him.

cimmamom roll harry: Hey, Zo. I heard you’re studying tonight. Can I come?

Zo: SURE

cimmamom roll harry: Cool. What time and where?

Zo: KISMET AT 7PM !!!

cimmamom roll harry: Okay. See you then! x

Harry really wanted to go to Niall’s viewing party. It was the premier of Stranger Things 3 and he wanted nothing more that to watch it with his friends. However, time didn’t permit him because he had to study. He was so tired, only functioning when there’s caffeine around. The Bean was basically his second home and although he never tried it at Kismet because he was too afraid to try something new, he was looking forward to it.

7 p.m. came quickly and he was outside Kismet, a brown and white coffee place. The decorations were mostly made up of different wood and burlap. The accents were black and the paint was white. There were also little succulents and cactuses littering the shop from the windowsills to the high tables. He opened the door and heard the bells chime. He looked for Zo only to find you sitting at a brown solo couch. Harry decided to go to you first.

“Hey, y/n, right?”

You looked up from your textbook to find the curly haired boy that never seemed to leave your mind.

“Yeah. Hi, Harry,” you smile at him. It seemed like butterflies erupted in Harry’s stomach when you said his name. Your accent made his name sound better.

“Uh, are you going to study with Zo?” he asked. You noticed how slow he talked. He mumbled his words and his accent was thick.

“Well, I was supposed to. But he said he wouldn’t be able to go in the last minute,” you tell him.

“Is it alright if I study with you, then? Was supposed to study with Zo too but I suppose that’s not gonna happen tonight,” He was really hoping that you would say yes.

“Sure! No problem. Just lay your stuff on the table and I’ll watch you stuff while you order,” you tell him, motioning on the empty chair in front of you. Harry nodded and did what you told him too. he said thanks before leaving to get his order.

Zo: thnx me l8er harry ;)

Meanwhile, Harry was freaking out when he saw Zo’s text. He didn’t know he would be alone with you. Sure, Zo and Danny was doing him a favour and all that but—wait. How did Zo and Danny knew he was crushing on you?

“Hello! What may I get for you today?” a blue-haired girl asked Harry once he was in front of the cashier.

“Hi,” he looked at the girl’s name tag, “Rue. What are your crowd favourites here?”

“Well, we got a lot! We have rose latte, apricot tea with aloe vera, grape cheezo tea, brown sugar milk, condensed milk coffee, and ca phe sua. I personally like the brown sugar milk and rose latte. The rose latte is our signature drink,” Rue informed.

“I’ll have that, yeah. Large. I’ll also get two herb and and tomato linguine, please. With buttered bread and extra cheese, yeah?”

“That will be…5.50 for the latte and then…25 flat for the pasta.” Rue said. Harry handed his credit card to Rue and told her to take something for a tip. Rue declined, telling him that it was fine—he was also a student and he didn’t have to. He opted for some loose cash from his pockets instead and put it into the tip jar. Rue thanked him repeatedly before he left the station to go back to where you sat and wait for his orders.

“I hope you haven’t had dinner yet,” he said as soon as he settled himself on the comfy couch.

“Oh, no. Not yet, why?” you asked.

“Because I got you some pasta. It would be foolish of me to get two pastas of the same kind, yeah?”

“Well, maybe you really like the pasta. Who am I to judge?” you teased.

“Not really a pasta man. More of a steak man myself,” he mentioned.

“Ugh. I would kill for a steak right after the exams,” you told him. The past week, you have’t been eating full meals because of how busy you were. Caffeine and instant ramen was your go-to. if you were lucky, you would be able to make a quick stop to McDonald’s and get some nuggets.

Harry’s orders arrived soon after and you thanked him as he handed the red sauced pasta to you.

“So, what are you studying?” he asked you.

“Not really studying but our final project is to compare two complete different poets together,” you told him.

“Oh? Who did you pick?”

“Bukowski and Wilde. I really love Bukowski and he was my major influence in all of my poems,” you told him.

“I don’t really know him that much but I stumbled upon one of his works before. I think it was Into the Arms of Another? It had those words but I remembered liking it a lot,”

“Out of the Arm of One Love, you mean?” you corrected. “It’s actually one of his more famous works if I’m not mistaken but yeah, I love that poem too,”

“Who’s your favourite poet?” he asked you.

“I really love Virginia Wolfe, Maya Angelou, Ocean Vuong…but for me, Bukowski would always take the cake. The way he writes his poetry is so direct and sad. The emotions are very violent and I just really love him,” you gushed.

He smiled at you. What was with you that pulled him? Is it your intellect? Or is it because you were so damn beautiful?

“If it’s okay with you…can you show me more of his works?” he asked you. Harry surprised himself. He never really liked reading but he was suddenly so interested in what you were interested in. For you, the stranger he met two weeks ago, he was willing to read some poetry so he wouldn’t look like such a dummy. He never really liked changing for other people but what was with you?

“Yeah, of course! You can have my number. We can talk to each other there,” you told him. You wrote your number on a scrap paper and gave it to Harry. You surprised yourself. You never did this to other guys so what was with this lanky boy with good fashion taste? He took the paper from your hands and the soft touch of your skin to his was a shot of electricity between the both of you. You both immediately pulled away, shocked.

“Erm, yeah, thanks,” he muttered. you immediately go back to the books you were reading and he opening his psychology textbook. He fished for his pencil case inside his bag. He took his pink highlighter and started to highlight terms. You sat in awkward silence for a little bit but it soon turned into a peaceful silence. You may have talked less but you were enjoying each others’ company.

The cafe soon announced its last call. It was nearing midnight so you both packed up your things. You walked outside the cafe with him in silence.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Mmm…?”

“Where do you live? I’ll take you,” he told you.

“Oh, it’s fine. You don’t need to do anything,” you told him.

“I insist.”

You informed him your address and just like in the cafe, you walked in peaceful silence until you reach your building.

“Here I am,” you announced. “Thanks for the pasta, bye the way.”

“It’s nothing. Hey, you said you would kill for a steak after finals, right? Why don’t I take you out then?” he asked. You smiled at him and nodded. You hugged him and ran to your flat. What was with that curly haired boy with perfect posture?

Harry arrived at his soon after, wondering what the hell was with the girl with bad posture? You wore a pink sweater on your ‘study date’ so Harry painted his nails pink.

#harry #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiic #fluff #college #styles #fluffy #first date #first meeting

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years

Note

Hey can you do a Robin x reader fic with the reader is in college and also being Dustin’s sister? Robin convinced that Henderson!reader has a thing for Steve? Rating anything just Robin stumbling over how much she has a thing for Dustin’s sister and being sad about the Steve thing even though there is no thing?

After a very long year full of supernatural idiocies, your friends and little brother getting in fatal trouble and all that, a full year of college normalcy away from Hawkins was what you needed to get back on track with your mental health and emotional safety, and now that Summer holiday came once again, you were very happy to be reunited with your family.

Dustin told you that Steve was still working part time at Scoops Ahoy, even after the horrible events at Starcourt, and Robin was there too, so you just HAD to go and see them, you missed them so much.

Of course, you arranged yourself more attentively than usual since it was an important day today, so make up, a nice hairstyle and a pretty outfit were perfect - Nobody would realise you were a huge nerd and geek...Not that you minded. It was your whole life and happiness.

As soon as you stepped in the parlor, you noticed Steve and ran to him, jumping over the counter and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek and spinning around with him, chanting his name.

“Steve! Steve! Steve! Gosh, how I’ve missed you! It’s really been a whole year, hasn’t it?! Can you believe it?! I sure as hell can’t!” you exclaim happily, letting go of him and analysing him from head to toe. “That hat still doesn’t do your hair any justice.” you laughed, leaning on the counter.“Yes, it’s been a year...Honestly, Y/N, I don’t know if I’d rather face College Horror or Monster Horror again.” he smirked, shaking his head. “But you sure look fresh as a daisy, I’m glad to see that.” he continued, then banged on the little slide-open door, only to be opened by your favourite girl.“Robin!!” your eyes sparkled as you chirped her name.“Our fave girl has returned from College Nightmare, Buckley, don’tcha wanna greet her properly?” Steve asked, motioning for her to get out of there.“Nice to see you back, Y/N! Came here for some free ice cream?” she smirked, already preparing your favourite.“Oh my God, your desserts are always the best! I swear, Robin, you are the best! Hey, why don’t we hang out at my house tonight? Get some booze, play some games, watch some movies? Sounds good? Dustin’s gonna stay over at Mike’s tonight.” you suggested with a sly look on your face.“Sure, why not. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like that. And it will be nice to have Robin around too, now.” he shrugged. “We finish in two hours, you can prepare everything for our sleep over and we’ll bring the good stuff, ‘kay?” he said, making you nod vigurously.“Hell yes! See ya later!” you hugged them both and rushed outside to make preparations.

All day you only thought of how to finally ask Robin out.

She’s been in your head all year and you couldn’t, for the love of anything good in this world, get rid of those thoughts about her, so might as well pursue them now.

The only people who knew of this crush were Dustin and Steve, which now seemed to be like literal Father and Son, which you were very happy about.You got to warm up around Steve after he started taking care of and protecting your little brother during all that mess with the demodogs, and from then on, you started hanging around.

After you finished Highschool, Steve started working at Scoops Ahoy, while you decided to volunteer at a place to make your CV better for your future career, so while you didn’t get to hang out too much, you got the privilege of meeting Robin, who was honestly the most beautiful and intriguing girl you’ve ever met.

Unfortunately, you were always much too shy to ask her out, especially knowing how same-sex relationships were seen around, and you were afraid of making her hate you, so being friends was the next best thing, and as long as she was happy, you were happy as well.

Little did you know that the girl thought the exact same things as you were, and even more, she thought you were in love with Steve, seeing how close you were with each other, and she started feeling darker feelings pitting in her stomach.

Night soon came by and your two friends finally arrived, ready to change in their PJs and you gathered in the living room, music loud and preparing for the booze games.

“What should we start with? Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle, Never have I ever...?” you trailed off, thinking of what games to play.“Let’s start with Never have I ever. It’s good for a big round of shots, right?” Seve suggested, opening the vodka bottle and pouring in the glasses.“Okay, sounds good! So, let’s see...Never have I ever...Uhhh....Fuck, I don’t know...Never have I ever gone to a rock concert.” you finally managed to blurt out, then saw Robin chuckle and Steve rolling his eyes, taking a shot.“Woaw, dingus, you sure are as lame as you look.” she snorted, making you giggle.“I mean, did you see how that sailor hat looks on him? Clearly, he’s so lame, he’s kinda like...A super innocent adorable kind of lame!” you exclaimed, making him groan as you laughed, not realising Robin was biting her lip in anger.“Okay, okay, whatever, my turn. Never have I ever went out on a date that went horribly bad.” Steve said, making the both of you drink and laugh at the memories, yet Robin looked down, not drinking.“Like, d’you remember how horribly bad that date with what’s-his-name went? He was so freaking boring that I had to pretend to go to the bathroom, call you to come rescue me, and then we spent the whole night watching movies, trash-talking him and eating ice cream?” you laughed remembering the awkward situation as you drank the shot.“Or that girl I tried to date after Nancy and I accidentally called her by that name...And just then I realised I didn’t even know what her name was. She made me pay the pizza bill but ate none of it, so I called you to come over and help me finish everything.” he nudged you a bit rougher than intended, making you laugh like idiots.“We’re idiots. But, Robin, you didn’t drink. Does that mean that all your dates went well? I’m so happy to hear that!” you grinned at her gently, but she shook her head.“I didn’t get to date anyone, actually.” she shrugged, looking away.“Aww, come on, Robin, don’t get upset! You’re a lovely girl, I’ve never seen anyone funnier, smarter and more beautiful than you! Every guy would be lucky to date someone like you.” you encouraged her, but she only breathed out a soft laugh.“Never have I ever had a crush on someone of the same sex.” Robin declared, making the both of you drink a shot, look at each other with a soft blush, than look away.“Glad to hear I’m not the only one here. Then again...Come on, King Steve, didn’t you like Billy even a little bit? The way he’d hover over your body, all sweaty and panting, calling your name so confidently...” you smirked, slurring a bit, making him groan and fall on the ground.“Fuck Hargrove, okay? He’s lucky he got out alive of that whole Mindflayer shit and moved back to Cali for Uni. If I have to hear one more King Steve from his mouth, I swear I’ll shave him and make him eat his stupid mullet.” Steve threatened, making you fall back with drunken laughter too.“You wish he’d fuck you, man. He’s good, I’m sure of that.” you giggled, poking his sides.“Shut up.” Steve murmured. “Imma go get some snacks from the kitchen...Or vomit.” he left the room, making you roll on your side, smirking at Robin.“Who’s the lucky lady you crushed or are crushing on, Robin, dear~?” you tried to press, making her look away a bit.“She’s...Very smart. She’s at Uni now, going into her 2nd year at a prestigious Uni. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, she’s soft like an angel and nobody would realise she’s such a damn nerd...And I think she’s crushing or dating Steve.” she mumbled, downing a shot.“Woaw, she sure sounds like a nice girl. You know...I think you should tell her. You never know who she likes, do you? And assumptions aren’t always what they look like. Also...Who the hell would choose Steve over you? You’re a million dollar babe, okay? Steve is just a...A...” you tried to find the perfect word, but she beat you to it, with a gentle smile on her face. “A dingus?”“Oh, gosh, yeah, that was it! Nice one, Robin!” you high fived her, but ended up losing balance and lazily hugging her, giggling.“Do you like Steve, Y/N?” she asked, making you laugh.“Steve? Yeah, he’s like, my best friend and all, what’s not to like about him? He’s an idiot but he saved my baby brother so now we’re friends.” you explained, making her nod at you, looking at you without breaking eye contact.“Yes, but...Do you...Like him? Like-Love him?” she pressed on, making you gag and snort.“Ew, no, jeez, it would be like dating Dustin. So awkward and weird. No way in hell...Besides...The crush I have on a girl? You’re that girl, Robin. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you the whole damn year and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I was just too much of a coward to ever say it out loud, but this idiot here and the other mini-idiot kept pestering me to finally ask you out...Guess I needed to get tipsy as hell to get that courage, huh?” you grinned shyly, burying your face in the crook of her neck.“Wanna have our first date tomorrow, then? Go to the movies, eat something, walk around, go to the arcade, stargaze at night...” she offered, making you put your arms around her neck and kiss her cheek.“Sounds like the perfect date, if you ask me.” you hugged her tightly, making her lay on the floor so you could cuddle up to her easier.“Huh...This was so easy...And to think I was jealous on Harrington ‘cause I thought you liked him. So stupid.” she snorted, making you giggle, caressing her cheek.“Steve...Who? He’s nothing compared to you, so forget about him. Tonight it’s just the two of us, this annoyingly loud music that’s gonna give me a hangover migrane very soon, and this vodka that just screams to be downed in one go...Uh...What was I saying?” you raised your eyebrow, a bit confused, having lost your train of thought.“Just that you love me, dear. Just that. And I love you too and I’m glad you got drunk enough to confess to me.” she leaned on her side, pressing her plump and soft lips to yours softly, a sweet smile gracing her features.“Damn, you’re beautiful, Robin. Will you be my girlfriend?” you asked, making her chuckle a bit, kissing your forehead.“Any day, any time, love. Any time.” she answered, softly.“Oi, guys, what the hell is going on here?! I know you love each other, but come on, don’t make this +18, okay? ...Argh, never mind, just go sleep in the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch...Jeez...” he groaned, drinking some water and crashing on the couch with a pout.“What, Harrington, are you jealous I’m dating Y/N and you’re not?” she smirked as you two sat up, her arm around your waist, putting you very close to her.“Nahh, not jealous, just happy for you. About time, really, she’s been gushing about you all year over the phone, I was about ready to just tell you myself about all this.” he shrugged, ushering the two of you to the bedroom.“I have a TV in my room, so we can watch some really good slasher movies and cuddle?” you asked, kissing her again.“Dream date!” she smirked, dragging you to your bedroom, ready to get the night started with her new girlfriend.

#stranger things imagine #stranger things #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #billy hargrove #steve harrington #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #jane hopper #jim hopper #eleven stranger things #el stranger things #max mayfield #mike wheeler #will byers #dustin henderson #henderson reader #lucas sinclair

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marxsgrandson · 4 years

Text

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)

Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:

Had an unbelievably shitty day today.

I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.

Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.

And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.

If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.

The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.

Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?

And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.

But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.

My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.

#jewish #class #school #study abroad #russian #russian jewish #queer #trans #russian jew #jew #adhd #autism #diaspora tag

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eeveedel · 5 years

Note

PLS WRITE SUMN W CHUBBY ALPHA HARRY.. MAAM.....

okayyyyy :)

This is literally the most wild drabble I’ve ever written, I loved this idea and then on Twitter I got some food kink requests so here we are.

Please be advised his fic contains adult content intended for 18+ audiences, as well as chubby/fat kink and sexual feeding. If that at all makes you uncomfortable or is triggering to you please don’t read. If you’re interested, then enjoy some unedited stupid boys, rushed and messy sex, and a dumb ending xo

–

Pool parties were Louis’s favorite part of summer.

Aside from the chance it gave him to survive the summer heat wave by mooching off his much richer friend’s pool, parties like this also gave him an excuse to wear his dumbest swimsuits, like the palm-leaf covered Speedo he had chosen today. He loved nothing more than doing sloppy, half-remembered flips off the diving board and draping himself over one of Liam and Zayn’s stupid novelty pool floaties while he let the sun deepen his tan, all while letting as much of his body as possible be shown off in his tin swimwear.

Most of all, he liked doing all that while feeling his alpha’s gaze on him.

Louis shifted on the hot pink inflatable pool chair he had planted himself on, and looked at the side of the pool.

Harry had laid down in one of the poolside loungers, bone dry and drinking a beer while he watched Louis in the pool.

He looked fucking delicious. He always did, but something about the sight of Louis’s alpha in an old swimsuit, his round, soft belly flopping a little over the waistband, made him feel hot all over.

Louis should be used to his boyfriend’s body enough to not almost get a stiffy in public over it, and yet here they were. He had first met Harry over a year and a half ago, when Harry had spilled his rum and Cherry Coke all over Louis’s new white shirt at Niall’s annual Christmas party. Louis had cursed him out thoroughly before actually looking up and immediately going quiet at the gaze of a tall, warm-looking alpha in front of me. An alpha who also was sporting a sizable beer gut belly under a very old looking t-shirt, which made Louis’s chest warm up for some reason.

After gazing at his alpha for a few more moments, Louis rolled off the floatie and into the water. He swam over to the nearest pool ladder so he could climb out, and then once he was out of the pool he promptly flopped down on the lounge chair with Harry. Immediately, put his arms around the alpha’s middle and his chin on Harry’s shoulder, giving his round cheek a kiss.

“Hi, alpha,” Louis giggled, throwing a leg over Harry’s lap. Harry smiled at him, his sunglasses dipping down his nose so he could give Louis a full, bright green glance.

“Hey, baby,” he said, skimming his fingers over Louis’s dripping wet skin, “You want a towel?”

“No, I think I’ll air dry,” Louis said, “Mind if I stay here?”

Harry kissed the side of Louis’s head and squeezed his hip.

“Not at all.”

Louis smiled and snuggled into Harry’s shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his alpha’s sun-warmed skin.

Zayn and Niall had taken up the loungers next to Harry’s own chair, both of them looking half-asleep and at least a little burned. A minute later, Liam emerged from the sliding glass door at the back of his grossly huge house to hand Zayn a beer and give the omega a kiss. Then he sat down on the last free lounger, lifting up a glass of clear liquid and lime rinds to his lips.

“Liam,” Niall said, “Is that tequila? At two in the afternoon?[if !supportLineBreakNewLine][endif]

Liam shrugged and nodded.

“Yup,” Liam said, “I’m cutting out glutton for the summer. No beer.”

“Fine, but tequila? Straight ass tequila?” Niall argued.

“It’s better than you think!”

Niall grunted at that, sliding his sunglasses up to rest in his sun-bleached hair.

“Whatever. You’re always on some weird fucking health kick. Last year you ate that weird cold salad out of a Ziploc bag all of June.”

“It’s called farro, and it did wonders to my bum, I’ll have you know.”

Liam took another sip of his tequila, and then smiled at all of them.

“You know, I’m thinking of do P90X again, too,” he announced, “I’m trying to start a little club to do it in the afternoons, make it easier.”

“P90X?” Niall repeated, “The fuck is this, 2009?”

“Fuck off, it’s still effective,” Liam scoffed.

“Well, count me out,” Niall said.

“Yeah, babe, you know I’m not doing that,” Zayn added, making Liam sigh.

“God, whatever,” he turned to Harry, pointing at him with his beer bottle, “Styles? You in?”

“No thanks,” Harry shrugged.

“Oh, come on,” Liam laughed, “No offense man, but you could use it more than any of us. You really let yourself go since uni.”

Harry snorted, taking another swig of his beer.

“I’m alright right now, thanks,” Harry said, and squeezed Louis’s hip, “Besides, Louis’s not really into six packs, are you baby?”

Louis blushed, and prodded Harry with an elbow.

So maybe Harry was right. Louis had seen pictures of Harry when he was in university, when he probably weighed less than Louis.; knew exactly what Liam was referring to when he said Harry had let himself go a little bit. Harry had once told him that he reckoned he had gained about 40 pounds in beer, take out, and office job laziness since then, but he never seemed upset by that. And while Louis could appreciate pictures of Harry’s old physique, it didn’t hold a candle for him compared to what his boyfriend looked like now.

But just because he had a kink for his boyfriend being chubby didn’t mean their entire friend group needed it spelled out for them.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

Harry chuckled, and drained his bottle.

“Speaking of six packs,” he said, “Louis, baby, can you go get me another beer?”

“Isn’t that like your fourth today?” Niall said, “How are you drinking more than me and you’re not even buzzed?”

Harry patted the side of his belly with a smirk.

“Higher alcohol tolerance,” he said, “Guess it comes with letting yourself go.”

Louis flushed again, and then peeled himself away from Harry’s side, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll go grab that beer for you, babe,” Louis said. He got to his feet, looking at everyone else, “You guys need anything?”

“I need you not to cream yourself on my patio,” Zayn jutted in.

“Fuck you,” Louis snapped, and then grabbed the handle of the sliding glass door.

“Hey, Liam, remember when you ate six bananas a day for a month in uni and ended up in the hospital with B12 deficiency?” Niall asked from behind him, which made Liam scoff angrily and then begin ranting about something he had read in a fitness journal that month.

Louis glanced behind him, and was just able to catch Harry looking at him over his shoulder. The alpha gave him a wink, a grin spreading on his face to make a dimple form in one of his padded cheeks.

Louis swallowed thickly and went inside.

–

They got home late, after the boys had talked them into a few more beers and kicking a football around Liam and Zayn’s backyard. By the end, Louis was bone tired, and he nearly had to drag himself through the front door of his own house, his ass still squeezed into his wet Speedo and his arms held down by several containers of leftovers.

He flicked on the kitchen light, Harry close behind him as he opened the fridge to put the leftovers inside.

“That was fun,” Louis said, looking over at his boyfriend.

“It was,” Harry sighed, slumping against the wall. His hands found their way to his stomach, and he rubbed it in slow, gentle circles, “M’fucking stuffed, though.”

He patted his middle, and it sounded firm and hollow. Louis just looked at him, trying to keep his breath normal. Harry was staring at him in the same firm way he had been looking at Louis swimming in the pool. He looked gorgeous, with his long hair tied up and his skin healthy and glowing from the sun. He was wearing the shirt he had put on once they were done at the pool; a yellow Hawaiian shirt covered in green and pink palm leaves. The bottom two buttons were tight against his middle, a bit of his tan skin showing through where the fabric didn’t quite cover him.

“Oh,” Louis said, “Uh – had a bit too much, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry grinned, “Can’t tell what was the mistake, that third burger or all that potato salad you brought me.”

He patted his belly again, and Louis turned away. He tried to ignore how his traitor of a cock was already chubbing up.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Harry arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t talk about how full you are.”

“What, I am?” Harry said. He sighed fully, and his belly pushed out. He stroked his hand up the line of buttons that ran down his front. “Hope I don’t pop one of these, I think this shirt.”

“Harry, shut your fucking mouth, I need to take a shower,” Louis snapped, his face already turning red. He snapped the fridge closed and tried to walk past, but Harry grabbed his wrist.

“Do you?”

“Yes, I have chlorine in my hair, it’ll be so dry in the morning if I don’t condition it,” Louis said, “That’s basic science.”

It made Harry laugh, and he let go of Louis’s wrist.

“M’kay, baby,” Harry chuckled, “I’ll be in our room when you’re all done.”

Louis nearly jogged away, slipping into their room and then into their en-suite. He took off his shorts and t-shirt, tossing his Speedo into the sink to soak. He was already half-hard and he cursed weakly as he turned the shower on.

Fucking fuck his beautiful, thick alpha. Fucking fuck his own kink. Fuck all of it. He just needed a shower.

He scrubbed his body and hair down quickly, avoiding his dick entirely. He felt wetness between his cheeks that certainly did not come from the showerhead, and he whimpered as he finished up. Quickly, the water was shut off, and Louis almost tripped getting out of the shower. He wrapped his slender waist in a towel and tried to dab at his soaking hair with a washcloth. When it was no longer dripping all over his shoulders, he shook his head hard, trying to clear his thoughts, before he stepped into the bedroom.

Any thoughts of clearing his thoughts were vanquished when he came into the bedroom.

Harry was there, as promised, sitting up in their California king in just in his black briefs, his full beer belly spilling into his lap and his love handles curving over the briefs’ elastic. He was scrolling through his phone, but he looked up and tossed the device away when Louis walked in. Harry grinned and stretched an arm over his head, showing tattoos that had long faded and stretched out with his arm’s growing width.

“Louis,” Harry said, “Perfect timing.”

“Is it,” Louis said weakly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, and then, the treacherous fucking bastard stuck a thumb into his belly button and grabbed the bottom half of his belly with his other four fingers and shook himself, making his stomach jiggle, “Was just thinking I’m not as full as I was a few minutes ago.”

Louis felt his fingers weaken their grip on the towel and it fell down onto the floor, leaving him naked.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked.

“Mm hm,” Harry hummed, “Think I could go for some dessert. Could you get me something?”

Oh, this bitch. This fucking bitch.

“Sure thing,” Louis agreed, his neck warming, “How about some of those brownies Niall made?”

“That sounds great,” Harry agreed.

“Well,” Louis said, his throat feeling tight, “Let me just go grab that.”

He nearly sprinted out of the room and into the kitchen. Once he was there, his mind was already racing. He grabbed the Tupperware full of the brownies, which were already caramel covered and iced with little frosting flowers. They were probably enough on his own, but he just tucked the container under one arm and kept exploring the fridge.

Harry wanted to play dirty, get Louis riled up and then decide that tonight was a good time for a feeding and a fucking, which he knew made Louis lose his mind. So Louis was going to do better than some leftover brownies.

After rummaging for a bit, Louis picked up a canister of whipped cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and the half-gallon of milk they had their fridge. He shut the fridge door with his knee, and managed to carry his haul back to their room.

Once he was back, Harry watched him with interest, and Louis deposited all the food on the bed before he climbed up himself. He sat with his legs bracketing Harry’s legs, the alpha’s warm stomach touching his own.

“Here are your brownies, gorgeous,” he said, picking up the Tupperware and cracking up open. He picked one off the top, holding it out, “Open up.”

Harry opened his mouth, and Louis gently fed him the dessert, his mouth growing drier at how Harry ate without losing eye contact with Louis.

When Harry had the last bite in his mouth, Louis pulled his hand away and licked at his fingers.

“How is it?” the omega asked.

“Mm,” Harry hummed, and then spoke with his mouth still full, “I think it could use something extra.”

“Well, you’re in luck.”

Louis grabbed the whipped cream from his side, holding it up for Harry to see. He shook up the cold canister, and then tipped it upside down, angling it towards Harry’s face.

“You want some, baby?” he asked, his hand already pressed on the nozzle.

“You know I do, honey.”

Harry opened his mouth and Louis nodded, then put the nozzle on Harry’s tongue and pressed. He pressed until the alpha’s mouth was overflowing with whipped cream. Then he brought his mouth down, lapping up some of the cream from Harry’s mouth and then kissing the alpha’s sugar-covered mouth. Harry moaned as he kissed Louis back, his hands reaching back to grab at Louis’s bum. Louis bounced a bit, his ass shaking Harry’s hands.

Louis pulled away after a few moments, and then smiled again.

“Were those brownies chocolate-y enough, alpha?” Louis asked.

“Could be a little more,” Harry said, “Niall skimped on the cocoa powder, I think.”

“That bastard,” Louis laughed, “I would never do that to you.”

He reached for the chocolate sauce then, opening it up and then tipping it into Harry’s mouth. A little spilled over Harry’s lips and chin as Louis squeezed it along Harry’s tongue. Louis quickly closed the bottle and swooped in, licking the sugary sweetness off of Harry. Harry groaned again, his hands squeezing harder at Louis’s bum. The omega gasped against his lips, and he reached down, holding onto Harry’s belly and jiggling it a little.

Harry’s moan turned into a weak growl, but Louis just pulled away from the kiss and smiled at his alpha, grabbing the half gallon of milk.

“Something to wash that down, alpha?” he asked.

Harry watched him with careful eyes, his gaze flashing.

“Sure,” he said.

He opened his mouth again, and Louis tipped the carton to his lips, a little inevitably spilling on his chin and his chest.

“Oops,” Louis giggled when it spilled, “Clumsy me.”

He screwed the milk carton shut, and then went to work, licking the milk off Harry’s chin and then down on his soft chest. He held onto his boyfriend’s love handles while he did, and Harry just groaned above him.

Louis was just getting to licking at one of Harry’s dark, wide nipples when the alpha grabbed the omega by his hair and yanked his head up.

Louis squeaked in surprise, his eyes going a bit wide as he looked up at Harry’s dark eyes. Harry smiled at him, the expression a bit too soft for his eyes, and then he adjusted his hips and grabbed at his own crotch.

“You want some dessert now too, baby?”

Louis snorted.

“You are a horrible, evil alpha,” Louis said, “Of course I do.”

Harry grinned, then pulled his hard cock out of his briefs, giving it a few unneeded tugs. His fingers then went to grab at Louis’s bum, pulling his cheeks apart and slipping his fingers inside. He fingered Louis quickly and messily, making the omega whine loudly as he did so. Then Harry was lifting him up roughly and planting him down on his cock.

Louis yelped, and then started bouncing, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder as he did. He smelled like rich, spiced wood mixed with the scent of sugar that had come from their dessert, and Louis whimpered at the smell, licking Harry’s shoulder. He kept his hips bouncing, and Harry held a hand on his bum, giving him a squeeze as he moved.

“Such a good omega,” Harry said, “Takes such good care of me. Keeps me well fed and everything.”

Louis whined, nipping at Harry’s skin. He wanted his mouth filled somehow.

Harry’s hips bucked, and Louis yelped as he felt the alpha’s cock jab harder into him. He felt Harry’s big, powerful body move under him, his belly shaking and heaving as he moved. Harry was grunting, the sounds deep and labored by the food in his belly. It only made Louis whine higher in his throat, and he brought his hands up, clawing his blunt nails on Harry’s furry chest. He pulled his mouth off Harry’s shoulder, his jaw a bit sore and his mouth dry as he spoke.

“M’so glad you’re my alpha,” he said, “Glad I don’t have an alpha like Liam. Just want an alpha I can feed and spoil all I want.”

Harry chuckled at that, kissing Louis sweetly despite still pounding into him hard. When he pulled away he slapped his own belly, the sound loud and sharp, and Louis almost cried. He felt more slick pour out of him, and he bit his lip.

“You spoil me so good, sweetheart,” Harry said, his voice deep and nearly a growl. He bucked his hips up, and Louis yelped again, “You want my knot?”

“Yes,” Louis hiccupped, “Oh, god, please.”

“Yeah, I know what you need,” Harry said, still fucking into Louis, “You like a big alpha with a big knot, huh?”

“H – Harry,” Louis gasped, and then squeaked weakly as Harry moaned under him, and he felt a knot start to expand himself him. His thin body shook, and he felt himself coming, a mess all over Harry’s bloated stomach.

Harry held and kissed him as Louis sat tied on his knot, and Louis just hung onto him, scenting himself against Harry’s neck and whining. Harry kissed his neck gently, calling him a good boy and a good omega, and Louis clung to Harry tightly, feeling his own release dry between them.

When Harry’s knot was deflated Louis climbed off his alpha with shaky legs, clearing the bed of Harry’s late-night snacks.

“Leave those,” Harry said when Louis started to get off the bed with it.

“The milk needs to go in the fridge, asshole,” Louis mumbled, but still struggled to waddle out of the room with his shaky legs and sore ass. He put the food away as quickly as he could, and then he was right back in his room, his body cuddling up next to Harry. The alpha rubbed them both down with a washcloth, and then wrapped a thick arm around Louis, giving him a kiss on the top of the head.

“Thanks for my snack, baby,” he said, and Louis giggled. He reached his hand up, rubbing over the tight skin of Harry’s belly, and it made the alpha moan in appreciation.

“God, I still wonder where the fuck you came from,” Harry said, “How did I get so lucky with you?”

Louis shrugged, snuggling deeper in Harry’s soft side.

“M’lucky,” he mumbled, and he meant it. Here, next to his big, soft alpha, he felt safe and at home, pretty satiated and content.

And he would be ready to give Harry whatever he wanted in the morning, whether it was breakfast or something more.

#larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfic #one direction fanficition #drabbles #chubby 1d #this is 3k I'm gonna yeet myself #sorry mom sorry dad sorry pastor robert #grandelarrys #ask #thick alpha

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misseviejones · 4 years

Text

cellophane - evie & matt

Evie Jones first saw Matt Banks when they were just children at the playground, they had stared each other down with similar levels of interest, but it felt like they would continue on separate paths. They would never interact again and she would never think of him again.

Matt Banks and destiny had other plans though.

In her final year of college and in his first year, he approached her with the confidence of someone who knew they would end up with each other. She stared him down with the same level of curiosity as when she was a small child, but he didn’t say anything, just stared as if he was in awe. This was something she couldn’t get her head around – in awe of her? How could that be?

“Did you have something to say?”

He shook his head as if woken from a dream.

“I’m sorry, I just… I’ve always wanted an excuse to talk to you and I can’t think of a single fucking thing to say.”

She had to fight to stop herself from smiling. She wasn’t going to be the girl who swooned for a line like that.

“Well, let me know when you think of something.”

She walked around him, as if she was desperate to get to her next class. She turned back around though and he was staring at her leave just as she hoped he would. She allowed herself a small smile at him and he reacted with a wider grin, because he knew he had won her over then.

She swooned.

-------------------------------

“Matt, what the fuck are you doing?” She growled, leaning out of her small bedroom window. Matt laughed loudly into the night sky and threw his arms into the air.

“I’m trying to be romantic and you’re ruining it… just a bit.”

She snorted and propped her head up with her hands, leaning fully on her window sill.

“Go on then. Romance me.”

He looked flustered. Her favourite reaction of his to the things she did. He cleared his throat and waved his arms dramatically, before pausing.

“Well, yeah, this was kind of it… Romanced?”

“Beyond belief.”

They smiled at each other for longer than a moment and she realised then that she could stay in moments like this forever, but it still didn’t stop her saying what she said next.

“You should go home now.”

He groaned loudly, so if her parents weren’t awake before then they were now.

“When are you going to admit you like me and let me take you out? You know this is going to happen -,”

“Stop this, Matt.” She pleaded. “You’re going to uni, you’re going to meet hundreds of girls and you won’t care about me anymore and I’ll be okay. I won’t be okay though if you try to make me fall in love with you before you go.”

He shook his head adamantly, but Evie was shutting her window now. She turned out her bedside lamp and sat on her bed with the feeling that she wanted to cry. She heard the sound of her name still being called outside.

The neighbours hated Matt and Evie.

---------------------------------

They walked side by side. She enjoyed him walking her to work. It was a small joy out of her bad decision-making to let herself get close to him every time he came back home from uni. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t do this, but then he charmed her like she was a little snake in a basket. The truth was she was in a basket – there was no way of knowing what he got up to at uni. All she knew was the life he lived here and that’s the one she wanted. They never spoke about what they were though and so she could pretend he lived in the basket with her.

They moved to cross the road when a car turned the corner when it definitely shouldn’t have. Matt pulled on Evie’s hand, out of the way, and the car beeped aggressively at her. She let out a high laugh.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DON’T YOU DARE BEEP AT ME, YOU BASTARD!” She flipped her finger up at the driver and it began to pull off. “KEEP DRIVING, ASSHOLE!”

“What a fucking cunt, huh?” She commented, turning to Matt. He was staring at her with an open mouth of shock. He soon began laughing manically.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” She hit him on the arm and it just caused Matt to laugh even more.

“You’re just one-of-a-kind, Evie.” He was still laughing and she stopped hitting him. Her face softened and it seemed like he caught on, because he began to calm his laughter. He exhaled. “There aren’t hundreds of girls like you. I love you, you know, I really do.”

She inhaled so deeply that it was like she was taking in all the air around her.

“For fuckssake, Matt.”

She pulled him down to her lips and kissed him in the middle of the road, like it was the first time they had ever touched lips. It was full of love. She pulled away slightly.

“But… you’re not –,”

“I’m almost done. I’ll move back in the Summer. I’ll be here.”

There was something so special to her in the fact that it was decided he would come right back here rather than him even trying to persuade her to leave here. It was like he knew and understood that she wouldn’t leave and so he was coming here. It was that simple. And so she said the words and never went back on it.

“I love you too.”

---------------------------------------

They stood in their new, little flat, staring at their new puppy, Frank, the bulldog.

“He’s going to, he’s going to-,”

“He’s not, he’s not -,”

A groan came from Matt.

“And yes, he has just done a huge shit on the floor.” She playfully hit Matt in the chest. “I think I’ll take over toilet training duties, as soon as you finish cleaning that up.”

Matt let out a sarcastic laugh and Evie mimicked him, turning to finish doing the washing up. She felt his arms wrap around her tummy and she couldn’t help but smile at the warm feeling.

“Is this what you’re going to be like when we have kids too?” He kissed her neck and at this question, she turned around slowly to meet his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling in wonder.

“And you think we’re going to have multiple kids?”

He smiled stupidly down at her.

“Oh, Evie Jones, I’m going to marry you and then we’re getting a huge house with the biggest fucking garden, so Frank can do all his shits out there, right? And then we’ll have two children. Minimum.”

That was all she wanted. She believed in long and simple love, like her parents, her grandparents. She just wanted to be in love like this forever and Matt was promising that.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

----------------------------

She finally heard the key in the door and she hated that it brought her both relief and more anger. He stumbled through the door and Evie threw the nearest thing she could find at his head. Luckily it was just a paperback book.

“What the -,”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” She ran at him and hit his chest, before running out of steam. She was crying and yelling. “You’re fucked.”

The neighbours hated Matt and Evie.

He fell against the door a little and Frank was barking at him. They had to speak louder in order to be heard over that loud bark.

“I’m just a little… a little drunk.”

“It’s five am. The other night it was four, then before that it was three. One night are you just not going to come home at all? Are you going to be dead or with someone else or just fucked off and leaving me here, stupidly worrying about you?”

She fell on the sofa, sobbing now and unable to say anything else. She felt Matt’s hands on her shoulders just as Frank finally stopped barking. She refused to look up.

“I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again, I don’t want you… you like this, yeah?” She shook her head, finally looking up, but he was now crouched in front of her.

“I just… I can’t do this -,”

She was cut off by Matt falling on his side and passing out. She believed in long and simple love and she believed in fighting for the love you thought you would have all your life, so she wrapped him in a blanket and put a pillow under his head. Then she went to sleep soundly knowing her love was back where he belonged – with her.

---------------------------------------------

“Are you smoking?”

It was a rule they both made that when they weren’t quitting smoking that they would make sure they smoked outside the window, but Evie was sat at the kitchen table, boldly smoking with no regard for that rule.

Matt snorted, walking closer to put the alcohol he had just bought on to the table, but as he got closer, he saw that Evie wasn’t even using an ashtray; she was using a blue cardigan to carry her ashes.

“I couldn’t find an ashtray, but I found this on the floor next to our bed.” She raised her eyes to Matt to see that he was flustered – her favourite reaction to the things she did. She put the cigarette out hard on the cardigan. “Who owns this?”

“I don’t know… Isn’t it yours? I saw it there a few days ago and thought it must be yours.”

Evie stood up slowly, remaining perfectly controlled as she shook her head.

“It isn’t mine.”

Matt shrugged, turning more casual, as he held up the cardigan and shook off the ashes.

“Well, it must be Alice’s and you know how she’ll feel about cigarette marks on it.” He shook his head, still attempting a laugh.

“How could you do this?” The venom that left her mouth really showed that she was a little snake, ready to bite. She shoved him hard against his chest.

“What the fuck, Evie? What have I done?”

“You’ve fucked everything up, Matt! You’ve done the worst thing and now you’re going to lie to me and tell me it’s Alice’s cardigan? Cool, cool, cool… I’ll just believe that and we can pretend you’re not sleeping with anyone else, shall we? That you can’t even do a fucking good job of hiding your little secret.”

She spat out every word with hatred. She couldn’t picture her love for him right then although she knew it still existed.

She threw everything off the table just so she could hear a satisfying crash of glass against the floor.

“Evie, Evie, I would never do that to you. I’m telling you the truth.”

“I love you and you just piss all over it. Do you want this to be over? Is that what you want?”

“No, no… I love you too. I – I,”

He held her face in his hands and she tried to shake her head out of it.

“Don’t make me look at you right now. I just – I fucking hate that you’ve done this. And who? Who was so good that you would risk me for them?”

Matt let go of her face and walked out the kitchen.

“Alice must have just left her cardigan… Maybe she left it on the sofa and I found it and thought it was yours -,”

“It’s not just the fucking cardigan, Matt!” She screeched, throwing another breakable at the wall. “You’ve been weird for weeks and this is just the proof I needed.”

The silence remained in the room as they stared each down with different reasons this time around. It would never be the same as when they first met. This was the end.

“I just… I wished you could trust me when I say I didn’t do anything.”

Evie continued to stare with red cheeks and tears down her face as she watched Matt walk out the door then.

She felt like she was finally out of the basket and she hated it.

#cellophane #self para #/lol here it is #matt #para

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gwoongi · 5 years

Text

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍 ✰ dad hoseok

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍 jung hoseok / reader genre: parent au, fluff, tiny smol angst words: 2384

“Yeah! So, go and tell the mean kids at school that Pokemon is cool and you can like it no matter who you are! Pokemon has no gender!” Well, Yeojin still didn’t like her Pokemon bedroom but she did still like Pokemon, and Hoseok pretended not to look when she rushed towards Jeongguk on Thursday evening and hugged his waist, telling him how awesome he was because he introduced her to the best show on planet earth, the show with no gender!

a/n: a short side fic for The Honey Project!! bringing back everyones favourite daddy of biology!!!! also happee easter !!! (happy easter everyone! who is it? ITS UR UNCLE....) ((this is sort of inspired by real events!! so before u say its weird...it happened ok.....it happened....kids r weirdos....and they complain about everything))

warnings: baby angst, hoseok being the best dad ever, jung yeojin is a brat

Hoseok thought he was a pretty good Dad.

Everything he had learned about parenthood was either from Seokjin, who had spent at least seventy hours in total on Google looking at websites about how to be the best Uncle- although Dad also applied- to a child that anybody could ever be, and also from his own experience with his Dad. Where his own Dad lacked in family talks and midnight cuddles, Hoseok filled in with Yeojin, a growing bundle of fluffy, curly hair that reached her chin and big doe eyes that Jeongguk claimed were genetically from him, even though that was literally impossible.

His own family, and the unreliable websites Seokjin bookmarked on his University computer, failed to mention how mentally tiring it is to raise a child. At first, neither himself or you had come to realise how hard it would be when the baby you birthed started using words, becoming more vocal about their thoughts and feelings and how it was apparently so annoying for either of you to hug them, or kiss them. You’d heard of teenage angst but not raging-three-year-old-angst. That was new, and certainly something that WikiHow had forgotten to mention.

But Hoseok loved his daughter, even when she threw temper tantrums about being fed carrots or when she screamed at four in the morning because her blanket had slipped through the gaps in her crib. It was definitely a parent thing that nobody understood unless they had mini-me’s of their own. There was nothing in the world that could stop Hoseok from loving Yeojin the way he did. He often sat there, in her bedroom on the floor by her crib with her hands wrapped around his fingers or actually inside the crib, slotted in a curled position with her head of hair on his torso; Hoseok liked to admire the bits and pieces that looked like you, the first love of his life; from the way Yeojin had your longer eyelashes and face shape, with a smile that shone the way yours had on your wedding day, or moments after Yeojin’s birth. Sure, she had features of Hoseok’s but none of those were even comparable to the gorgeous way that Hoseok now had a daughter who looked everything like the woman he fell in love with.

Yeojin, like all children and humans, got older- she grew out of teddy coats bought by Yoongi and out of the crib Hoseok remembered everybody assembling, and gradually the colours of her bedroom turned into phases of her interests. Aged three and she wanted Barbie everything, and both Hoseok and yourself were hesitant to drown the walls in sickly pink and off-whites. Because, you were that age once, and pink is a colour you grow bored of very easily. Aged four and it was her newfound obsession with Pokemon, no thanks to Jeongguk and Jimin stealing her every Friday for Uncle-Bonding-Time, and of course, there had been no complaints when purchasing oversized plushies of Pikachu or cute little outfits of random Pokemon.

Yeojin complained though, when she turned five a year later and decided that Pokemon wasn’t for girls, because some kid at school had laughed at her Pokemon lunchbox and told her she was acting like a boy.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with being a boy,” Hoseok had told her, petting her hair in her bedroom and wiping away the sniffles. You came in shortly after with the sacred jar of cookies that Yeojin always tried to reach for in the kitchen, and she reluctantly took a handful. “And, a lot of girls like Pokemon. It’s definitely not just for boys!”

“Yeah! And, what about Misty and Serena, huh? They’re girls,” you offered for input. “I remember watching Pokemon too. Pokemon’s cool.”

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! So, go and tell the mean kids at school that Pokemon is cool and you can like it no matter who you are! Pokemon has no gender!”

Well, Yeojin still didn’t like her Pokemon bedroom but she did still like Pokemon, and Hoseok pretended not to look when she rushed towards Jeongguk on Thursday evening and hugged his waist, telling him how awesome he was because he introduced her to the best show on planet earth, the show with no gender! Perhaps Jeongguk had teared up upon hearing those words, but Hoseok wouldn’t say anything.

“I think I like Harry Potter now,” Yeojin said, five and a half, sitting between Haseul’s legs as her Aunt’s hands threaded through her hair, parting and creating plaits.

“Oh, yeah?” Haseul said, smiling. “Harry Potter’s super cool.”

“Do you like Harry Potter?”

“Yeah. I think he’s a nice guy.”

“Mom likes Harry Potter,” Yeojin continued, playing with a slightly tattered Pikachu toy. “She told me so. And Dad does too, but I don’t think he’s as serious as Mom is. Mom had the robes! They don’t fit me, though.”

Haseul finished her plaits and wrapped her arms around Yeojin. “Well, maybe because Mom and Dad like Harry Potter, if you ask nicely we might be able to go visit Hogwarts this Summer. At Universal.”

Yeojin’s eyes sparkled. “Really?”

Haseul nodded with a grin. “Mhm. I’ll ask Mom for you.”

That’s why Yeojin swore to a secret song of Haseul being her favourite Aunt, because even though Auntie Seunghee took her to see movies and look at animals and let her use her Nintendo Switch when she went to visit, Auntie Seunghee had never offered Harry Potter.

Yeojin picked herself up off Haseul’s bed with a frown, straining to listen out into the house for Haseul’s feet when she heard the front door open, and Moms voice float through. Yeojin contained a giggle when you called up to her with a, “Honey, I’m home!” and she replied with a, “Hi, Mommy!” and nothing more. Yeojin would go downstairs when she heard Mom say she could go to Harry Potter World, because Auntie Haseul had promised it already.

“Why would you tell her that?” Yeojin heard your voice say, over the sound of the kettle boiling. Yeojin paused on the landing, listening with a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Haseul…”

“Look, I just...threw it out there,” Haseul defended, “as a suggestion. If she’s into Harry Potter...and you’ve wanted to go there for like, years….kill two birds with one stone!”

“Yeah, and are you gonna help fund this trip?”

“Of course,” Haseul replied. “Me, and Flat Eighteen! You know they’ll love to come. And, we haven’t been on holiday since first year of Uni! Portugal, super fun, but simply not enough.”

“It’s nice, what you’re trying to do for her and us, but,” you started, before sighing and at that moment, the kettle sprang to a pause, “I just don’t know if we can go there right now.”

Haseul stopped, too. “Is money bad?”

“No, not at all. We’re so financially secure it’s actually scary,” you assured. “There are...other reasons. Preventing us from going, I mean. You know why.”

Yeojin didn’t stop to listen. She had heard enough.

“She’s been sad all day?”

Hoseok came home at four thirty, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up whilst tossing his bag into the cupboard under the stairs. You stood in the doorway leading out into the kitchen with your arms folded, rubbing up and down with a frown on your lips.

“Yeah, I don’t know why,” you frowned, happily accepting Hoseok’s warm hug as he stepped towards you. You extended your arms out and wrapped them around his neck, squishing your cheek against him as his lips kissed at your hair, and then his head tilted down to kiss the space between your earlobe and jaw. “She seemed happy when I got to Haseul’s. Then, she was all...grumpy.”

“It’s not your fault, before you even say it,” Hoseok muttered, twirling you slightly. He pulled away slightly after a few minutes, smiling the best he could before quickly bringing your lips to his in a kiss. “I love you. I’ll talk to her, okay?”

You nodded, pressing your lips together as Hoseok turned to head towards and up the stairs, in the direction of Yeojin’s bedroom. Her door was closed shut, the colour of the sky-light spreading underneath the door and Hoseok quietly stepped forward and knocked, the noise loud enough yet still quiet. From behind the wood, Yeojin had moved off her bed and he could faintly hear her feet moving across the carpet.

“Yeojin, baby, it’s Dad. Can you let me in for a second?” Hoseok called gently, his hand on the door-handle, ready. “Please?”

Yeojin grumbled something, stubbornly, and pulled open the door, leaving Hoseok’s hand stinging with surprise. His brows raised with the expectancy of an apology but nothing came, only the sight of Yeojin retreating back towards her bed where she lay down and pulled the covers up over her head.

“Go away,” Yeojin groaned.

Hoseok let himself in. “Yeojin, your room is filthy.”

“Don’t shout at me!-”

“I haven’t shouted,” Hoseok replied quickly. God, he didn’t remember being this difficult aged four, especially when the sun was shining outside. Although he didn’t remember much about being four, really. He moved to sit on the bottom of her bed, playfully grabbing at her ankle under the sheets. Yeojin squirmed with a noise of surprise. “Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“No.”

“I’ll tickle you.”

There was a beat of silence, and Hoseok half wondered whether or not Yeojin would climb out of her protective shield of blankets, but she did, sitting up with crazed curls and looking at her Dad with watery eyes. At once, Hoseok felt his body crushing with anxiety, and without even thinking about it, he opened his arms invitingly for a hug and she crawled towards him, her bottom lip trembling, then her chin on his shoulder and hands stuffed in his jumper.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

Yeojin sniffled into Hoseok’s shoulder. “Mom said no to Harry Potter World.”

Hoseok paused, looking at his daughter- “Harry Potter World?”

Yeojin nodded. “Yeah. Haseul said we could go in Summer, but Mom said no.”

“She said that?” Hoseok asked, not really believing it. “Did she say that to you?”

“Well, I heard her say it in the kitchen at Haseul’s house,” Yeojin explained. “Haseul asked and Mom said something about being scared and so that means no. I’m nearly six- I know!”

Hoseok’s eyebrows raised as he stared at Yeojin, trying not to laugh. Of course, as a parent, he knew the reasons why other parents said no. He thinks that if Yeojin had asked him, too, he would have said the same thing. Money was definitely not an issue for Universal studios this summer, but considering Yeojin’s birthday was close coming, alongside the giant fact that they had already planned a Summer vacation to Japan with Uncle Yoongi and Jimin, who was still on the quest for Professor Min’s heart, and the surprise of a sibling, hopefully, if everything went well, Hoseok knew that Universal Studios was possibly a long lost distant dream. Unless Uncle Yoongi and Jimin caved in and said, “Sure!” to an unexpected day trip to Japan’s own Universal.

“Hey, if Mom didn’t say that to you, then you don’t know what she said,” Hoseok frowned, reaching for her to look at him. “Not knowing for sure causes trouble.”

Yeojin scrunched up her face. “Mom hates me having fun.”

“Hey!” Hoseok scolded. He never raised his voice at Yeojin, not ever and not even now, but the hardness of his tone made Yeojin shrink with her head dipped towards her chest with shame. “Your Mom loves you more than anything in the world, and you should know that! Mom wouldn’t do anything to make you upset.”

Between Hoseok’s armpit, Yeojin huffed. “I know…”

“And,” Hoseok continued, hugging her tight, “I’m sure Mom will love to take you to Harry Potter World. Mom loves Harry Potter! It’s a bit too soon to go this year, though.”

Even when Yeojin huffed indignantly, she knew her Dad was right. Hoseok had hugged her tighter and pressed little kisses to her cheeks and temples, telling her how much he loved before before she climbed out of his arms, downstairs and into the kitchen where she clung to your leg, saying nothing. She didn’t really have to say anything, and it was Hoseok’s turn to lean in the doorway at the sight of you crouched with your arms around her, the sun looking golden on your skin and hair, golden dust in her eyes.

Like all kids, Yeojin got over it extremely quickly.

Hoseok discovered that all Yeojin really needed to keep her happy and occupied was a sibling, and then you finally- after months of trying- crawled on top of him with a giant smile that could blind at five fifteen in the morning, the words, “We’re having a baby again,” whispered into his mouth. The temptation to scream and tell Yeojin right away was shoved away until Yeojin came back from Uncle Seokjin and Namjoon’s house a little while later, once everything was certain, with both man on her arm, walking into the kitchen decorated with one sparkly balloon and a little envelope on the counter.

“Is it my birthday already?” Yeojin asked confusedly. She turned to Namjoon, “You said it was next month.”

“It is, honey,” you said, leaning on the counter with Hoseok next to you, his fingers knotted around your own. “This is an early surprise, okay?”

She nodded, taking the envelope from you when you pushed it towards her.

Like deja-vu, Seokjin and Namjoon shared teary laughs and hugs when Yeojin tore open the envelope and saw the writing screaming that she was going to be an older sister. Suddenly, she had forgotten all about the grudge against Harry Potter World and was transfixed on the words and then her Mommy’s belly.

“Really?” she squealed excitedly. “Really?!”

“Yes!” you told her with a smile. “You’re gonna be a big sister!”

“You kept this one quiet,” Seokjin scolded, smacking Hoseok’s shoulder half-heartedly.

Hoseok shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, well. At least we planned this one.”

“What does that mean?” Yeojin asked.

“Nothing, honey.”

(“Can we call them Harry? Like Harry Potter?” Yeojin asked, her lips against your stomach.

You immediately stared at Hoseok and then back at Yeojin.

“Absolutely not.”)

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