#i like how everyone is just pissed and Eleanor is just what? who? what? sorry? ?????¿¿¿?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinencurls · 4 years

Text

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

304 notes · View notes

fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

A Very Colin Christmas - Colin Shea x reader

Ch.4 - A Holy Jolly Christmas

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3

a/n - hey lovely people!! here’s the fourth chapter, and a reminder that tomorrow there’s no chapter and friday will be the last one, so happy Christmas eve eve to those who celebrate, enjoy!<3

Summary: Slowly but surely, you discover why Colin was so apprehensive about having his family over, and also realize something you should’ve realized long ago...

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: curse words, angst if you squint

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

The next day, it was the morning of Christmas eve, and you figured you should do some grocery shopping before stores close down for the holidays, so you put on your clothes and headed out of the apartment, locking the door behind you and turning around to –

"Good morning," Eleanor was standing in the threshold of Colin's apartment, the morning newspaper in her hand.

"Good morning," you answered with a smile you hoped didn't look too fake.

"Who lives there?" she asked.

"Just, uh… my friend," you shifted uncomfortably. "I um, this morning I got a text to… come help her, and now we're done and it's still pretty early so I figured I wouldn't bother you. I was just going home to change."

"Alright, we'll see you later I assume," she stated.

"Of course," you smiled awkwardly and went down the stairs as quickly as you could. Once you were out of the building you started heading to the shop, and as you were walking you pulled out your phone to call Colin. He didn't answer, and you sighed in frustration before putting your phone back in your bag. You hoped he had enough sense to handle it on his own.

While you were shopping, there were some interesting developments at Colin's.

"Colin," Eleanor barged into his room and opened the curtain. "I think your girlfriend is cheating on you."

It took his foggy brain a second to register her words. "What?"

"I don't think you can trust her," she crossed her hands on her chest.

"Good morning to you too," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Colin, I'm being serious, I-"

"I know mom, let me just wake up for a few minutes and we can talk about it, alright?"

"Fine," she said, her lips drawn into a thin line and left the room. Colin sighed groggily and went to get dressed and brush his teeth. He didn't know what the fuck his mom was talking about, but he sure as hell was going to stall as much as he could without knowing.

When he went into the kitchen, she was there. Obviously.

"There you are! So this morning I went out to bring the newspaper."

"Anything interesting in it?" he asked as he started making himself a coffee.

"No, but listen to this – when I was in the hallway the door opposite opened, and guess who came out? Your girlfriend, Colin. It was your girlfriend."

It took all of his willpower not to burst into laughter on the spot. Instead, he frowned. "What did she say?"

"That her friend was living there and needed help. But I'm not buying it," she shook her head. "She looked very suspicious."

"Well, she's telling the truth mom," he smiled. "Her friend is living there. She introduced us, actually," he lied casually.

"Oh," Eleanor frowned. "Okay then."

Only when she left Colin could allow himself to snicker into his coffee. That was close.

When you came back with your groceries, you prayed Eleanor wouldn't see you, since you couldn't excuse that away if she had. But thankfully, the hallway was empty, and you let yourself into your apartment without any more awkward encounters.

You shot Colin a text asking him when he wanted you to "arrive" at his place, and he said that in about an hour or so. That gave you just enough time to take a long shower and almost forget about the morning.

An hour later, fresh out of the shower, you knocked on Colin's door. Eleanor opened the door, and she smiled a tight-lipped smile as she ushered you in.

You both sat down in the living room, Colin and his dad nowhere in sight. You assumed they were both somewhere in the house and simply didn't hear you arrive, but you thought asking where they were was maybe a little tactless as Eleanor led the way to the living room, sitting down seemingly eager to talk to you.

"So," she started, "how did you and Colin meet?"

"Oh, um," you fumbled over your words for a second trying to come up with a convincing story, "I met him at a gig of his. I thought his music was great and when we got to know each other I realized how great he was himself," you smiled.

"Really? That's funny, because Colin told me your friend from across the hall was the one who introduced you…" she trailed off in an unsaid question.

Your heart was racing as you tried to keep up with your lies, but you didn't let it show. "Well, she actually did. She was the one who brought me to see his show that night. When she told me her neighbor was a musician I was a little skeptical, but we both had a great time. After the show she took me backstage and introduced us, and the rest is history," you channeled your relief into a smile.

"Grilling her already, mom?" Colin said from behind you and you resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he came to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"We were just having a conversation, son," she chuckled.

You chuckled as well, trying to diffuse the tension. "Yeah, I was just telling her about the night we met, when we were at that gig of yours."

"Oh yeah, it's a cute story," he smiled at you.

"When are Andy, Laurie and Jacob coming for dinner?" you asked in an attempt to change the subject before it gets awkward.

"They should be here at around six," Colin replied.

"Oh, you know Andy's a lawyer, right?" Eleanor asked you.

"Yes, we talked about it last night," you chuckled embarrassedly.

"Ah, of course! Anyway, I'm just wondering why his brother here doesn't follow in his footsteps," she reached forward as if sharing a secret with you. "You know, if you ever want to start a family, a steady income is very important."

"Well, we haven't even moved in yet, Eleanor," you were getting a little pissed now. "I'd say I have no say in what Colin chooses to do or not do, right?"

"Of course, I'm just worried about my little boy," she smiled at Colin and he returned what looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"You shouldn't be," you said, "he's wonderful," you looked at him and smiled genuinely.

"Awww, thank you," he said playfully, and you giggled.

"You two are such a cute couple," William, Colin's father said as he entered the room, sitting next to Eleanor.

"Yeah, you are," she agreed with him.

You and Colin just smiled at them. You didn't know what he was thinking, but what you yourself were thinking terrified you. I wish we were.

Soon enough everyone was there and you could start on the Christmas dinner, which was mostly courtesy of Eleanor and Laurie but at least Colin provided the venue. While you were eating, they were all talking amongst themselves, which left you plenty of time to think things over.

The thing was, while you had initially agreed to all of this, you just thought of it as a favor to a friend, nothing more, and now you were starting to realize just how… magical denial was. Because even in Colin's family was kind of annoying, apart from his admittedly hot older brother, Colin was surprisingly un-annoying for the last couple of days. He was actually being really… sweet.

It was the last thought that truly sent you spiraling. Because knowing Colin can be this sweet made it all the more bitter that it wasn't true.

Before, you could just tell yourself that Colin Shea wasn't really capable of love. That he wasn't ready. But now that you were seeing him like this, you knew that wasn't true, it couldn't be. No, the agonizing reality was – he can love. He just didn't want that, and certainly not with you. He had every opportunity to start something with you – hell, even just a one night stand – and he didn't. Sure, he flirted and joked around, but when it came down to it, you knew what Colin Shea seriously flirting looked like, and it never once happened with you, and you were sure of that.

Because if he really tried, deep down you knew you would let him succeed.

The food in your mouth suddenly became too dry, and you gulped down some water to steady yourself.

After dinner, everyone sat down in the living room to watch a Christmas movie. You and Colin sat next to each other on the couch, and you were trying to concentrate on the film when his hand wrapped around your shoulder. Nothing too bold.

You tried to hold your concentration, but then he started drawing patterns on your shirt, running his hand along the covered curve of your shoulder and all together with your thoughts it was… just too much.

"You know what guys?" you said after a few minutes, "I think I should probably go. I'm just pretty tired, I'm sorry," you said as you left your chair.

They all just kind of stared at you, and you didn't blame the after that out of the blue statement. All you knew is that you needed out of here.

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

i love validation so if you have any feedback (even if it’s negative i take constructive criticism lol) feel free to tell me:)

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12

A Very Colin Christmas Taglist: @janaygrant

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #colin shea x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fluff #colin shea x female reader #colin shea fluff

80 notes · View notes

jetsetreid · 3 years

Text

ignore me like we never met before - spencer reid x reader - chapter 1/?

Summary: Spencer Reid annoys you. Enemies to lovers with a side of BDSM (to follow -- no sex in this chapter, sorry!)

A/N: New to CM fandom, hiiii. With the s7 cast (the elite) but set post-Maeve storyline. Title from Ignore me by Betty Who.

Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer Reid was annoying. And not just in the normal ways you might find someone annoying. Spencer was annoying in an extraordinary way, that only someone with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory could be. The most annoying part was that he never really met your quips or participated in your banter.

It made you look like an asshole, which was completely unfair of him. Because you knew Spencer returned your feelings. You annoyed him as well. He avoided you constantly and when he did speak to you, he made sure it was case related. You didn’t sit next to each other on the jet, or at team outings. Hotch almost never paired you together. You recognized, in the back of your head, that you should be thankful for this, but you just found it to be another thing about him that annoyed you.

Despite your lack of time spent together, you couldn’t help yourself. When an opportunity presented itself, you just had to push back. It didn’t matter though, because he never said anything back. He always let you insult him and looked away without a reaction.

Your favorite pastime. Team drinks. And you were stuck sitting next to JJ and across from Spencer, with everyone else further down the double-sided booth. Spencer and JJ had been chatting all night about her kids and a film festival Spencer went to every year and had recently joined the board of organizers. If it wasn’t for the fact that Spencer was involved, the film festival might have actually sounded interesting.

Instead, it was mind numbingly boring. You tried to focus your attention on Morgan and Penelope down the booth, but they were too caught up in each other to notice your desperate attempts to strike up a conversation.

Emily showing up to team drinks was a godsend

“Emily, thank god,” you shrieked. “Sit next to me!”

Emily slid into the booth next to you and quickly ordered a drink before the two of you fell into a conversation. You were discussing Emily’s new girlfriend and how tangled up in each other they’ve been. You’ve missed her lately. This was the first time she’d actually shown up to team drinks in months.

“You know, I like Eleanor and I’m happy for you, but falling in love is gross.” You said it with no bite and a smile on your face. You were teasing her.

“Actually,” Spencer cut in, “Falling in love has a similar neurological effect as getting high on cocaine.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost fell out. What did boy wonder know about falling in love? And why was he involving himself in a conversation that had nothing to do with him? Spencer and JJ had been ignoring you all night. Okay, maybe JJ tried to include you in their conversation, but still.

“Another fact you read, but don’t know in practice, right?” you asked, eyeing him with spite. You were fairly new to the team, almost a year in, but you just knew there was no way Spencer Reid had been in love before.

Emily tensed up beside you and JJ fell silent as well. You figured Spencer would ignore your comment, like ways. He never ever rose to your insults.

“What about you, we all know you’ve been high on cocaine. So even though you’ve never found anyone to love you, it’s almost the same thing.”

JJ choked out a laugh. Emily smirked without meeting your eyes. All you could do was glare.

The team knew about your party days in college, although you’d never outright said you’d done cocaine. The reality is that you had and quite a bit too. Your first couple of years in college were a blur of a party until you calmed down your junior year and took academics seriously.

But Spencer never challenged you, so what made this so different? Maybe you hit a nerve. Everyone knew he was lacking in the relationship department.

“I’ve found plenty of people to love me,” you said with a smirk.

“For the night,” Spencer added, with a bite.

You should’ve been annoyed or angry, you should’ve told him to shut up, but you didn’t. Because seeing him take the bait after almost a year of digs made something in your stomach flutter. You were finally getting to him.

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like to know?”

Spencer meet you with hard, scowling eyes. Emily and JJ followed your back and forth like a tennis match.

“What’s that saying? If you caught fire, I wouldn’t piss to put you out.”

“Jesus, Spence,” JJ muttered.

“Those are Fall Out Boy lyrics,” you responded with a glare. He was such a dick.

Spencer shrugged. “Sentiment stands.”

You dropped it after that. You hated to give him the win, but another round of drinks appeared, and Emily quickly changed the subject.

Spencer didn’t stop after that. It was becoming a problem. Mostly because Hotch could shrug off your mouth before. Most of the team thought you were just teasing, and because Spencer never reacted, they all saw it as harmless.

But he was reacting now and the two of you were trading insults like siblings. You were being childish, but so was he so you didn’t stop. At first, it was almost fun. But Spencer was too quick, too smart. He didn’t even have to try.

Another case, another jet ride.

“Maybe the unsub has something on these victims. With this amount of overkill…” you trailed off, eyeing the photos in front of you on your tablet.

“Actually,” Spencer started. This was the fifth time he’d interrupted you (yes, you were counting) and you’d only been on the jet for 30 minutes.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, snapping your finger in front of his face. “Does anyone get to give an opinion on anything without you actually’ing them?”

He swatted your hand away. “That’s not a word,” Spencer sighed. “Maybe I always have to interject because like your vocabulary, your opinions resemble that of a 3rd grader.”

“Focus,” Hotch commanded. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he was absolutely done with both of you so you dropped it and you kept the rest of your opinions to yourself. The worst part of Spencer finally participating in your insult war was that he was always winning. He was smarter than you and he wasn’t afraid to let you know it.

It didn’t bother you at first, but after weeks of him always getting the upper hand, it started to. You felt stupid and you started to question your spot on the team. You absolutely hated that you let him get into your head like this.

The case wrapped up later that week. Unsub caught. Another jet ride home.

You gathered your things from the bullpen when Hotch appeared, singling for you and Spencer.

“I need to see you both in my office.”

Derek winced and Emily patted you on the back. “Try not to murder each other in there.”

“Yeah, good fuckin’ luck,” Derek added with a laugh as they both headed to the elevators.

You ignored them and started walking up the stairs, quickly followed by Spencer. You both took a seat with your eyes glued to Hotch. You knew what was coming.

“Y/L/N, Reid,” Hotch started. “I’m not happy to be having this conversation. Your behavior has been juvenile and unproductive.”

You twisted your hands in your lap. This felt like getting reprimanded by a parent and you did not like it. Your stomach twisted with guilt.

“I don’t care about whatever rivalry the two of you have going on and I certainly don’t need you to be best of friends, but your behavior is affecting the team. And I need it to end.”

You nodded, refusing to look anywhere near Spencer.

“I understand, sir,” you breathed, voice low. “Consider it ended.”

Spencer nodded, “I apologize. It won’t be a problem anymore.” You saw him looking your way out of the corner of your eye, but you refused to take your eyes off Hotch. You felt terrible, having disappointed your boss.

You both exited his office with a quiet sigh. Your heart felt heavy.

You wouldn’t admit it, but you were secretly glad Hotch put an end to things. You knew you had started all of this, but Spencer’s words were like a poison. They were all you could think about some nights, tossing and turning. Were you really that stupid? Like a 3rd grader? Did everyone see it? You often wondered how you even landed this job after the things Spencer said about you.

Hotch’s door clicked shut behind you as the both of you walked to your desks. You could tell Spencer was just as upset as you and you wanted to comfort him somehow, but you quickly pushed down the foreign and unwelcome thought.

Spencer lifted his bag over his shoulder, eyeing you finally. “Just stay out of my way from now on, Y/L/N.”

You really wanted to fight back, but instead you felt tears prick at your eyes. How fucking annoying. You absolutely refused to cry in front of Spencer Reid, but you knew he could tell how emotional you were. He was a profiler after all, and you weren’t even trying to hide it.

“Just stop, Reid,” you whispered, grabbing your purse and exiting the bullpen. You didn’t wait for him at the elevator. In front, you hit the “close doors” button rapidly until they slid shut, leaving you alone.

Weeks passed. You were quietly miserable. Spencer ignored you. Hotch watched the two of you constantly. Everyone else did as well, and it was suffocating. You barely spoke up anymore, always having to be prompted by Hotch, or sometimes Derek and Emily. Even JJ and Rossi. Anyone but Spencer. He didn’t care what you had to say and he didn’t even bother pretending like he did.

You knew you were acting unreasonable, but you still felt scolded by Hotch and now isolated by the rest of the team. Realistically, you knew that wasn’t the case, but Spencer had known them all for a decade and sometimes it felt like they all took his side. It hurt your feelings, as irritating as that was to admit.

Things boiled over in Phoenix. An unsub that the team hadn’t exactly profiled right. A mistake you made, dropping your gun and moving close. You thought you could talk him down. You were very, very wrong.

It happened so fast. The unsub grabbing you, bringing you to his front, your back firmly against his front. He wrapped his arm around your neck, applying pressure.

He was using you as a human shield. His other hand rose and you felt the cool metal of the unsub’s gun against your temple. You couldn’t speak. Why couldn’t you speak? You were trained for this, but right now you felt helpless. Derek and Spencer stood in front of you, trying to talk him down, but you couldn’t make out their words. You could tell they were panicked, and you knew this wasn’t going to end well.

The unsub – Randall Gaines – tightened his arm around your neck, cutting off your oxygen just a bit more. You felt a tear slide down your cheek. You were going to die in a shitty motel in Phoenix, Arizona. Right in front of Reid and Morgan. Bullet through the skull. They were going to walk out of here with your blood splattered all over them, but you weren’t walking out of this room at all.

You felt your grip on reality slip as his chokehold tightened, your eyes slipping shut. Darkness.

You woke to Derek crouched in front of you, breathing a sigh of relief. You were still alive. You were still in the shitty motel room.

The unsub was dead next to you, both of you on the ground. You’d passed out, but only for a couple of seconds. You were fine.

Derek helped you up, snaking an arm around you for support. He loaded you into the backseat of the SUV while you waited for backup.

The ambulance came and checked you out, the coroner carried away the unsub’s body and the three of you left. No one spoke, least of all you.

The jet ride home was not pleasant. You avoided everyone’s concerned eyes by taking a seat in the back and putting your headphones in. You didn’t even listen to anything, but it guaranteed that everyone left you alone.

When you got back to Virginia, Hotch grabbed your shoulder, leading your away from the team out into the hallway. “Take a few days, okay, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Okay.” Your voice was barely there, a rough whisper at best. The paramedic had warned you of this. Loss of voice, coughing, trouble swallowing. Red eyes, headaches, bruising. Even nausea. Although you weren’t sure if that was from the injuries or the situation in general.

Hotch eyed you, sighing. “I want you to know you are a valued member of this team. See you next week.”

You nodded again before rushing to the elevators. Which would have been great, had it not been for one Penelope Garcia.

She saw you and scurried over, pulling you into an embrace. “Y/N,” she breathed. “I am so happy you’re okay.”

Maybe it was because it was Penelope, or maybe it was just because of the day you had, but you hugged her back, clinging. She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Movies and takeout?”

You found yourself nodding without realizing it. You had missed this. The past couple of weeks you had been so closed off, so worried about your place on this team. But now you were too tired and too distressed to worry. You followed Penelope out of the building.

Derek showed up with a 12 pack of White Claw and a bottle of white wine.

“Your favorites,” he grinned.

Emily and JJ followed with Chinese takeout. The five of you spread out on Penelope’s couch and the floor in front of it. You smiled despite the burning in your throat, the hoarseness of your voice and the bruising you were sure was developing around your throat.

You smiled and cracked open a White Claw, attention on the latest episode of Saturday Night Live. You missed your friends.

Until the door quietly opened and Spencer Reid appeared. He looked uncomfortable. He brushed his his hair behind his ear and sat down on the floor with his legs crossed next to Derek.

“I brought DVDs,” he said, holding up a handful of them.

“Thanks,” you whispered. You didn’t mean to say anything, but you didn’t take it back. You even offered him a small smile.

“Pretty boy, it’s all about streaming these days,” Morgan rolled his eyes, “but it’s the thought that counts.” And then he ruffled Spencer’s hair. You smiled again.

Even with Spencer Reid in the mix, you were happy.

#criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mine

108 notes · View notes

hideawayintheimaginationworld · 3 years

Note

Story idea? About Funtime Freddy finally finds BonBon, but they are all broken. Panic & upset, he takes them to none other than his enemy Lefty, who is surprise to see the other asking his help. Perhaps the two also makes a deal on something too?

(P.s Btw, I totally love all the stories that you have written! They're all so amazing to read again & again!)

Funtime Freddy's only real fixation was finding BonBon at this point.

It had gotten to point where it was insufferable to be alone.

He had trashed the areas he'd been in, he use to be more considerate in a way.

But now he was tearing into things, breaking them in the process.

He had unsuccessfully tried to ask Eleanor for help, in a way, she was like Baby, but she immediately said she had better things to do.

The better things, Funtime Freddy knew by memory, seeing it over and over again, that Eleanor would try to get ahold of a girl named Sarah, who was living in the same house as Millie. Something she did had pissed her off majorly because she was trying to kill or something, Eleanor never said, or she did and Funtime Freddy never listened. She would try but always be confronted by Funtime Freddy's counterpart.

Lefty was his opposite in a lot of ways, Funtime Freddy's main fur was white, Lefty's was black. Funtime Freddy knew Lefty was always ready to fight, or even bite if he had to, an incident which Funtime Freddy laughed at seeing it happen to someone else but hoped Lefty wouldn’t bite him, as even though his teeth looked flat, he knew like him, that Lefty had sharp canine teeth like a real bear and clearly, as he saw, capable of biting into metal.

In contrast, BonBon just had short flat teeth, completely normal, probably why people seem to like him more.

Life didn’t matter if he couldn’t find him.

For crying out loud, Lefty had that little version of him at his feet, he also vaguely recalled seeing a little rabbit hanging around him once, plus he had all those kids, like Lefty was some sort of shepherd and they were the sheep.

Actually, it looked more a parent and child.

“Think about this, Millie has her whole life ahead of her, she doesn’t want to die, she wants to live... Haven’t you notice she fights you? Because she doesn’t want to die, get that through your head, and maybe stop chasing people away, you lunatic.”

That was why he was focused on finding BonBon instead of Millie, in fact, he hadn’t even talked to Lefty for a while, he had seen him around, he saw him with that Freddy from the big mall place... he didn’t remember his exact name but he was sure it wasn’t just Freddy... he tried to remember the generation name.

Funtime Freddy ripped a bicycle from the pile, disturbing it enough that it fell forwards.

And straight on top of him.

Funtime Freddy climbed up into the air, growling, as he was now surrounded by a lot of junk, like a broken toaster which he threw as far as he could out of his sight, hearing it crash somewhere on the ground. He pulled up his other hand, the hand missing BonBon, and pulled himself up, kicking aside the garbage bags, the rotten food, broken exoskeleton parts.

He sunk down and shouted in frustration again, using language not appropriate for younger kids, he was up to his waist in random broken parts, like a car door, and a busted TV.

Wait.

He noticed something about the TV.

He pulled himself forward towards it, it was an old TV from the 60s, it was like a box, with the screen completely broken and the innards exposed in the late afternoon sunlight.

He shifted forward, looking inside, his suspicions were confirmed by seeing a red bow tie near the TV, he put his hand inside, trying to look inside.

“BonBon?” He felt a lump and grabbed ahold of it, he pulled it forward, finding a little resistance, but it wasn’t a match for him.

He pulled out the little dirty blue rabbit.

“Oh BonBon! I thought I'd never find you again-!!” He noticed BonBon didn’t even speak.

The reality hit him like he just ran into a brick wall.

BonBon's eyes were black, absolutely lifeless.

He made a distressed squeak when he noticed one of his ears was missing, he put him aside and put his hand inside the TV set again.

He found the ear and immediately realised he got caught by that and Funtime Freddy had ripped his ear off by his recklessness.

“You destroy anything you touch! You're so reckless, I wouldn’t even trust you with a plant let alone a child!!”

Lefty had been right.

Funtime Freddy pulled himself up, sitting down, he pulled open his chest cavity, he gently placed BonBon and his broken ear in there then closed it, wanting to keep him safe.

“You destroy anything you touch!”

That was true.

He didn’t mean it.

“Haven’t you notice she fights you? Because she doesn’t want to die, get that through your head, and maybe stop chasing people away, you lunatic.”

“What about “No” do you not understand?? She doesn’t want to die you fucking nutcase!!”

“If you must kill me, you have to answer why.”

Why?

Funtime Freddy managed to get out of the garbage sea and was back on the ground, he tried to think of places to steal spare parts or tools, he knew going to the Pizzeria wasn’t an option, that place was more fortified than it looked, finding the exact parts and tools in the Scrap Yard was near impossible.

He remembered Lefty's knack for fixing things, something he got from his creator somehow. Lefty somehow was repairing himself after their fights, Funtime Freddy remembering breaking his hand so much his fingers were bent out of shape, then the next time, his fingers looked right again, like he fixed himself perfectly.

Lefty would always help whoever asked. He had it in his nature to help.

Was it worth it?

Better to see what would happen than never know what would happen.

It was the earliest Funtime Freddy had ever come to the house, it was the early evening, not too dark yet, it was about seven, which meant by the time, everyone would be home, but Funtime Freddy didn’t want to wait for nighttime, he knew it was likely BonBon had weather damage like him, Funtime Freddy could hear his joints creak excessively, he had dirt caked on feet and the smell of cigarettes on his fur like a bad odour.

Funtime Freddy hesitated to ring the doorbell, he was surprised no one had seen him, but he did run pretty quickly here in his panic.

He knew if he didn’t, someone might see him.

He just needed to hand BonBon to Lefty to fix.

He finally pressed the doorbell, hearing the jingle he never heard, it didn’t sound like a doorbell he was use to, but regardless, he was going to get attention now.

Well, he wanted BonBon to get attention.

He heard the door in front of him unlock, Funtime Freddy stood still, the door opened a little before he heard a “Nope!”

Before the door closed, Funtime Freddy jammed his hand, holding it still, holding it open while the other was trying to close it.

“Listen to me!”

“Get out! Get out!”

Funtime Freddy pushed out his foot to stop the door from closing shut as he felt Lefty on the other side trying to put his weight into his body to shut the door.

“I want to ask you something!”

“Millie, run! Now! Go upstairs and lock the door!!”

Funtime Freddy heard footsteps he assumed were Millie's running upstairs, but he focused on trying to push open the door enough to let himself in.

“Oscar! Go back to your room!! Nobody come out of their room!!”

“I’m not here to do anything bad!”

“Then why you are trying to get in?” Lefty asked from the other side.

“Dam it! Listen to me!!” Funtime Freddy slammed himself against the door with all his weight and strength, he was shocked he actually broke the door off its hinges and it fell on top of Lefty.

“I’m sorry about your door...”

Lefty got to his feet, lifting up the door over his head, then Funtime Freddy realised he was going to use it as a weapon to knock him out, so he popped open his chest cavity.

“Get the fuck out of my face!!”

Funtime Freddy shoved BonBon into his face and Lefty froze.

Lefty stared at BonBon, “What the hell does this mean?”

“BonBon... I found him...”

“He's busted.”

“That’s why I brought him here...” Funtime Freddy admitted, “I want you.... well if you would... could you fix him?”

“I can’t.”

“You're lying, I’ve seen you fix robots.”

“Okay then,” Lefty said, putting the door down, “That was a lie. The truth: I don’t want to.”

“But what I did doesn’t include BonBon,” Funtime Freddy reasoned.

“Why would I help you?”

“Because I'd give you anything...” Funtime Freddy answered, “You fix BonBon, and I'll disappear from your life forever.”

Lefty knew he couldn’t trust this one from experience, “How? How can I trust that?”

“You can’t!!” They heard a voice say from upstairs.

“Don’t get involved Devon!” Lefty yelled back.

“No, no, that kid is right... you have no reason to trust me.”

“So we both agree on something.”

“But like I said, BonBon isn’t reflective of me, all you have to do is one thing... and I will do anything you want... I could... I could even help you with other problems! I know where Eleanor is hiding! I could find out what she's planning!”

Lefty rose his eyebrow, “How about you get out instead?”

“Look, if I had BonBon back, I'd be happy enough to leave you and everyone alone, isn’t that what you want?”

Lefty did want that, one less problem he had to worry about.

“I'm going to keep a close eye on you from this moment onwards,” Lefty said, he took BonBon from his hand, turning him in his hand.

“This one has weather damage... I'll have to find a new circuit board... but there's one thing you must do in the meantime.”

“What?” Funtime Freddy asked.

“Shock implant.”

Funtime Freddy immediately felt a sense of dread wash over him, “You mean...?”

“You take one step out of line, and you will get a not-so controlled shock.”

“No, I don’t want that!” Funtime Freddy had managed to get rid of the piece that would let him be shocked freely and now Lefty wanted to put the piece in again.

“Either that or nothing!!” Lefty shoved him backwards, “And you can forget me fixing this!!” He held BonBon above his head like he was going to throw him against the floor which made Funtime Freddy panic.

“WAIT! WAIT! OKAY! OKAY, I’ll GET THE IMPLANT!!”

Lefty immediately calmed, “So the deal, you don’t even lay a finger on Millie or anyone else... or you'll wake up inside an incinerator... I'll fix the little Bonnie... BonBon... whatever it's called.”

The process of getting the implant wasn’t as bad as Funtime Freddy thought, Lefty just had it installed in his chest cavity, he did test it, much to Funtime Freddy's distaste as it now made him twitchy.

Lefty lifted BonBon up, “He smells like cat litter for some reason.”

“How would you know what that even smells like?”

“Millie has a cat but you wouldn’t care... and for the record, I have a sensitive nose. The smell of vomit can make me feel violently ill... you've both been in the garbage and you're stinking up the house...”

Lefty shook his head, he placed BonBon down on the table, “I'll get my toolbox later...”

“So you'll fix him?” Funtime Freddy asked, figuring even though he didn’t say yes that he was agreeing to help him.

“Yes... but go outside.”

“Why?” Funtime Freddy asked confused, he wasn’t scaring anyone but then again, everyone was upstairs, he could tell because he listened carefully enough that he heard someone listening to music in a room above him.

“I don’t want you in the house,” Lefty said nonchalantly.

And that was how Funtime Freddy ended up in the back garden, sitting by the backdoor as it got dark.

He wouldn’t complain at this point.

He just hoped Lefty was actually going to fix BonBon.

To be continued...

#Ask #Five Nights at Freddy’s #Fazbear Frights #Count the Ways #Fazbear Frights House AU #Funtime Freddy #Lefty #BonBon #Writing Drabble #I get overwhelmed by good comments and I feel like I don’t deserve them sometimes but I appreciate them all the same!#anonymous #I'll continue this if anyone is really interested

48 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

My Everything - Part Seven

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and smut!

a/n: not proofread fam, I didn’t have the strength.

Masterpost

It was Louis and El’s first real weekend without Eliza May. Eleanor was taking it much better than she thought, probably since she’d be able to drink alcohol, and then she could just pump and dump. Her and Louis were getting their costumes on while you and Harry were doing the same.

“Will people even know what who we are?” He asks.

“Of course! We looks so cute too.” You kiss his cheek. “Now hold still so I can put your makeup on.”

You both walk out of your bedroom and see Lou and El in the living area, hanging out with Buster. They were dressed like their favorite soccer players. You and Harry were dressed up like Max and Roxanne from a Goofy Movie.

“You two look so cute!”

“Thanks!” You beam. “It was so easy to put together too.”

“You both ready?” Harry asks.

They both nod. You and Harry say goodbye to Buster, and across the street you go. When you walk in you see Niall dressed as The Flash and Wonder Woman.

“Now these are costumes.” You say, hugging them both. “Well done.”

“Look at the two of you! Very creative.” Sarah says. “Go get a load of Rachel and Mariah, they’re Harley and Black Canary.”

“Why did we not get the super hero memo?” Harry asks.

“None of us discussed it I swear!” She says.

You got find the two of them and say hello. You take a ton of pictures with your friends, and they make sure to take plenty of you and Harry. You feel sad when you see your friends taking tequila shots. Even Harry and the guys were drinking heavily.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Eleanor asks you.

“Um…not really, no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s a stupid thing to be upset over.”

“I’m sure it’s not.” She smiles.

“I’m…on a specific type of medication that I have to take every day, and I can’t drink alcohol while I’m on it. I haven’t really drank since my birthday, and this is the first time I feel sad about it. I’m having fun, but…” You both look over at everyone. “I’m not having that kind of fun.”

“Well, I haven’t started to drink yet, so I won’t.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I really don’t mind. I made it nine months, remember?”

“Thanks.”

Niall and Sarah’s place was packed with people, and your very drunk fiancé was grinding on you while you danced. You could feel him growing harder against your ass, and it was starting to annoy you rather than turn you on. You turn around to face him.

“I’ll be right back, I need to use the bathroom.”

You step away from him and go down to the hall bath. You take a deep breath as you look at yourself in the mirror. El grabs Harry’s wrist before he can follow you.

“What?”

“I think you should start drinking some water.”

“Why?”

“Because…she told me she’s sad everyone’s having more fun than her.”

“She did?”

“Yeah…everyone’s pissed but her, Harry. Look around.” She gestures around to the people at the party. “She feels left out, H, and you’re not helpin’.”

“Shit.”

Harry stumbles into the kitchen and gets some water. You find him in there.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’, just think I’ve had enough is all. I have a plan to catch tomorrow, no need in havin’ a hangover, right?”

“Y/N!” Sarah says. “Come do a shot with Rach and I.”

“I can’t, Sarah.” You mumble.

“Why not?” She pouts. ��Oh! Are you still taking that medication?” Your eyes widen and you look up at Harry.

“Sarah.” Niall grabs her by the waist. “Leave her be, alright?”

“Yeah, leave it alone.” Rachel says.

“All I did was ask her a question.”

“An invasive one.” Niall says. “If she doesn’t want to drink she doesn’t have to.”

“Will you all please just stop?!” You had enough. “I’m not some child you have to overprotect! You wanna know why I can’t drink? I’m on a medication to make it so I don’t black out and hurt Harry again, okay? I had a really bad flash months ago and I slapped him! My therapist prescribed it for me, and I can’t have alcohol with it because it’s also an antidepressant. Are you happy now?! I’m so fucked up in the head that I need pills to keep myself from doing something stupid!” Your eyes were glossy, and you were filled with rage.

You brush past all of them and make your way to the front door.

“Fuck, Sarah, you can have a real big mouth sometimes.” Harry says. “You couldn’t have just listened to your boyfriend for once? You’re always doin’ that to him, as if he doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

“He doesn’t know her better than I do.”

“No? I’m startin’ to think he’s the only real friend she has. Excuse me.”

Harry goes after you and leaves.

“Babe! Babe!” He runs down the hall and catches the elevator door. Your arms were crossed and you were crying.

“I feel like such an idiot. I ruined everyone’s good time.”

“No, honey, it’s okay.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest.

“You were having fun though, and then I just blew up. I should go apologize.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Maybe tomorrow when there isn’t a huge party happening you all can talk, but right now we should just go home.”

“What about Louis and Eleanor.”

“I gave Lou a key in case we left at different times, it’s all good.”

You and Harry get in the door, and you both say hello to Buster before going to wash all your makeup off. You hear Louis and Eleanor at one point, and Harry goes out to say goodnight to them. He kisses you to sleep. You would have let him love on you a little more, but you had your period. Not great timing before his trip to Wisconsin. He didn’t mind just holding you close to him though. It was what you needed more than anything.

“You’ve barely said anything to me since they left…” Sarah says as her and Niall get into their bed.

“I’m not quite what to say…”

“I’m going to apologize to her tomorrow, I know I was wrong.”

“Yeah, you were.” They both lay on their backs. Niall turns to look at her. “You really don’t listen to me often. You always think you know best…it bothers me. It’s like you don’t value what I have to say.”

“I’m sorry.” She turns to face him. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“I know you and Rachel are her best friends, and I know you both mean well and care about her…but Y/N and I got really close after everything happened. I’ve seen her in some different ways. I just wish you had let her tell you instead of making her so upset she blew up.” He sighs. “And now Harry’s goin’ away for a few days…you’ll need to fix this, Sarah.”

“I know, I know. I feel terrible okay? I got too drunk, and-“

“Yeah, but you should have known not to bring it up from when we went to Homecoming. That’s the annoying part. You were told to let it go, and you didn’t. It’s like you’re not used to bein’ told no.” He huffs.

“Well, to be fair, I’m not.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, Niall. I was an only child, I was a rainbow baby…admittedly I was a little spoiled.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a fuckin’ adult now. You’re twenty-five years old, grow up.” He huffs and turns away from her, leaving her speechless.

She sighs and rolls to her other side. Niall rarely got mad at Sarah like this. She was his baby girl, and she knew she fucked up with you.

“Please call when you get there.” You tell Harry and Louis the next morning.

“We will, love.” Harry says, giving you another kiss goodbye. “I love you, be good.”

“You be good too.” You wink at him.

“My Lou.” Eleanor and Louis share a nice embrace, and just like that the boys are out the door. You sigh heavily. “They’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know. I’m more so sighing because Sarah will be here any minute.”

You and Sarah sit out on the balcony while El FaceTime’s with her mother and Eliza May.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N…I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“I just wasn’t ready for you all to know. It’s embarrassing…”

“No! It’s not, it’s super normal to-“

“I know it’s normal, okay? I just feel like it’s another thing with me. I feel like there’s always something going on with me so I didn’t want everyone to know just yet.”

“I’m sorry. I think I got pushy because you didn’t tell us about what happened to you right away, so any time I feel like you’re keeping something I think it’s the worst possible thing and-“

“But that’s still something I needed time to tell you.”

“I know.” She looks down and then back to you. “I wasn’t a very good friend last night…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…you were drunk.”

“That’s not an excuse. I had no right.” You smile at her and give her hand a squeeze. “So…the meds…they help?”

“Mhm, a lot. I haven’t had a flash since I started them.”

“That’s great!”

“It wasn’t all on you last night either. I was jealous that you all were having fun. I was having fun too, but I do miss getting buzzed. And Harry was drunk, and I love him when he’s drunk, but I got annoyed, and-“

“It must be really hard…we can all try to stop.”

“No, I don’t want that. None of you need to change things up for me. Just stop asking me if I want a drink.” You smirk.

“Deal.”

Louis taps on Harry’s shoulder to get his attention. He takes his earbuds out and pauses his movie.

“You know you don’t have to ask if you want to cuddle.” Harry smirks.

“Maybe later.” Louis laughs. “I thought since we’re up in the air now and you can’t escape, I could talk to you about somethin’.”

“Oh Christ, what is it?”

“Well…you know how mine and El’s wedding will be in the U.K.?”

“Yeah…?”

“We won’t be comin’ back to the states after.”

“Yeah, you mentioned you might honeymoon in Spain, right?”

“Yes, but after that…we still won’t be comin’ back to the states, mate.” Harry’s face falls. “Her entire family is over there, we don’t have anyone here.”

“You have Niall and I…”

“You both are two hours away, you might as well be across the pond with her family. We both want Eliza May to grow up with family. I may not have a mum and sister anymore, but Eleanor does. This is important to both of us. I can freelance anywhere, that’s the beauty of it. And she’s already lookin’ for jobs in London. We’re hopin’ to live just outside the city near her family.”

“But…what about Freddie?”

“To be honest Bri was only stickin’ around here for me…she works remotely, and she said it would be easy for her to switch to London time. She’d move out there, I think she’s been wantin’ to go back too. It’s time, Harry.”

“Lou…I…”

“Just think, when you take your long trips we’ll be able to see each other. I’ll be able to see Mitch and Sarah, and I can check in on your mum.”

“I guess that’s true.” He sighs. “I know this is somethin’ you have to do…but I’m not excited about it. I mean…”

“I know you’ll miss Fred and Eliza May, but we can keep FaceTiming like we do now. Not much will change, you’ll just need a plane when you want to come visit, and so will I.”

“Suppose I’m used to missin’ yeh already.” He shrugs. “Have you told Niall?”

“Yeah, he knows. Told him over the phone. I knew you’d need a bit more attention.” He smirks.

“Gee, thanks.” He rolls his eyes. “So…you’re not movin’ before the wedding?”

“No, El wants to make sure she has a job lined up and all that. I mean, we could, but we have an infant and it would just be a lot. She’ll be goin’ back to work soon…it just gives us more time.”

“Well, we better fuckin’ hang out a ton while we’re still in a close proximity to each other.”

“Deal.”

After Sarah left, you and Eleanor went take Buster for a walk. The air was brisk, but it was nice. You loved the fall weather. She looks at her phone and sees a text from Louis.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I have somethin’ to tell yeh, and Lou just texted sayin’ he told Harry, so I have the go ahead now.”

“Alright.”

“After the wedding, we’re movin’ to the U.K.”

“Oh my!” You stop to look at her.

“My whole family is over there. Bri’s even been wantin’ to get back there too, so it just makes sense for everyone. I start work back up in a week or so, and I’m already lookin’ for jobs in London. We just don’t have anyone here. You guys are great and all, and I know Harry’s family to Lou, but-“

“I get it. I’d wanna be close to family too. It would kill me if I had a baby and my parents rarely got to see them. Louis told Harry on the plane?”

“Yeah.”

“Smart.” You chuckle. “Probably didn’t get too upset then.”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure he’ll call you later and blubber like a baby in true Harry fashion.”

“You’re probably right. I know it’ll suck, but you guys are doing what’s best for your family.”

“Exactly.” She sighs. “Plus, going back for the healthcare alone just made a lot of sense to us.”

“And Bri’s just able to move with Freddie?”

“I guess she’s been wantin’ to move back for quite some time, but she didn’t want to take Freddie away from Lou. She’s nice in that way. I think that’s what really started the entire conversation. We’re hoping to all live outside of London so we’re still in a close proximity. Fred should be with his family too, you know?” You nod and keep walking, Buster right at your side.

“You know, when I first really got close with Niall my biggest fear was that he was going to move back to Ireland, and he very well could do that someday. I couldn’t imagine always having to fly out to see your family, and only for special occasions.”

“At least video chattin’ is a thing. It helps you feel not so left out.”

“Right…now sometimes I get nervous that Harry might want the same thing…but at the same time it would be really silly. He’s made a life for himself here.”

“I don’t see Harry goin’ back. He loves London and his family, but he’s better here, from what I’ve been told. If he really wanted to move back there, he would have after grad school.”

“You’re right.” You smile as her words put you at ease. “Well, I’m happy for you guys. It’ll really be a fresh start to your lives as a married couple.”

“Exactly! A whole new adventure.”

Harry and Louis both call you and Eleanor once they’ve landed. They check into their hotel, and have fun eating and drinking at the bar downstairs. What they didn’t know was that you had arranged for some other things for them. The game was two days away, so you had arranged a stadium tour for the two of them tomorrow.

They were both in awe as they got to walk through and listen to the history. Harry bought a new sweatshirt, and some other memorabilia. He finds a Wisconsin key chain he thinks you might like.

“Just a key chain?”

“I think she’s kill me if I got something that had the Packers logo on it.”

“Oh right, she’s really into the Patriots.”

“You have no idea.”

That night, they check out the night life, and have a great time just getting to spend time together one on one. It was rare, and they both enjoyed it.

“So, you’ve set the date and all that. You must be really excited.”

“We’re thrilled, mate. With you, uh, movin’ back and all, will you still have time to be my best man?”

“Of course! I may not be able to fly back for every little thing, but you’ve got me in your pocket if you wanna FaceTime me in. I’ll of course come for the bachelor party, that’s a given.”

“You better.” He laughs.

“Have you two asked Niall about officiating yet?”

“Not yet, I think when we get back we’re gonna take him to dinner. It’s hard gettin’ him alone now that him and Sarah are livin’ together.”

“Has Y/N decided who she wants her maid of honor to be yet?”

“No, she said she wants to talk to Rachel and Sarah about it. She doesn’t their feelings to get hurt if she chooses one over the other.”

“They should just make it like a rotation, so when they all get married some day they can take turns. Like if say Rachel is Y/N’s maid of honor, then Y/N could be Sarah’s, and then Sarah could be Rachel’s.”

“That’s what I think the conversation is going to look like. We’re goin’ cake tasting soon, that’ll be fun.”

“You’ll love that. It was a lot of fun for El and I.”

“You must be getting excited to make things official soon.”

“We’re very excited. Fred’s gonna look so cute walkin’ down the aisle with the rings. He tells me all the time how he’s gonna do it, and then when it comes over he struts around.” He laughs. “Here look.” He takes his phone out to show Harry a video.

“Oh my god, he’s too cute. I know it’s a lot of work, but I can’t wait to have one of my own.”

“How soon after you get married do you think you’ll get to work on that?”

“Pretty soon since the wedding is nearly two years away. I’ll already be twenty-eight, and she’ll be turnin’ twenty-seven that summer. I was hoping to start havin’ ‘em sooner than that, but she said when we go on our honeymoon we could start trying.”

“There’s really no rush for it, Harry. I love Freddie, but if I could’ve waited longer to start havin’ kids, I would have. Enjoy the time that you have less responsibility, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The boys cannot wait to get to the stadium again for the game. You had gotten them really good seats.

“She did a great job, if you weren’t already marrying her I’d say you’d need to wife her up immediately.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty amazing.” Harry sends you some pictures of them in front of the field, and it makes you smile.

This was the first trip where Harry wasn’t totally sad to be away from you, probably because he had his best friend with him. He missed you of course, but he was with the other person he liked spending his time with. You were having a great time with Eleanor too. She stayed home with Buster during the day while you were at work. You found her to be an incredible cook as well.

The Packers didn’t win their game, but it didn’t matter to Harry. He was just so thrilled that he finally got to see them play, and didn’t have to watch on the small screen of his phone. They had to catch their flight out almost immediately after the game ended. Harry and Louis couldn’t stop talking about the game almost the entire flight home. It was a great little trip. As they touched down in Boston, they couldn’t wait to get home to their girls.

“Night, El.” You yawn.

“You’re not waiting up for the boys?”

“It’s getting late, and I have to work tomorrow. Harry’ll come in when he gets home.” You smile.

Your period always exhausted you. You wanted to stay up a bit longer, but you knew you’d be a zombie tomorrow if you did. You were just about to fall into sleep when you heard the door creak open. Harry was tip toeing in, and you smile when you see him quietly go into the bathroom. He slips into bed with you and wraps himself around you. You sigh happily.

“You’re awake?” He whispers.

“Mhm. How was it?” You whisper.

“Amazing. I’ll come see yeh for lunch tomorrow to tell you all about it.”

“You and Louis had fun?”

“We had the best time, thank you so much.” He kisses your cheek and then your lips before settling back in to spoon you.

“You’re more than welcome.”

“The stadium tour was so cool. I can’t wait to show you the pictures I took.”

“I can’t wait either.” You adjust back against him, and you just feel so cozy. “Missed you, baby.”

“Missed you too, angel.”

It was a tough goodbye the next morning after breakfast, but so it goes. You let Buster go to work with Harry. He actually missed his daddy for a change.

“Hey, Harry’s having lunch with me today, just FYI.” You tell Niall once you’re at work.

“Alrighty.” He smiles. “They had a good time?”

“Mhm, I think they both really enjoyed it.”

“I knew they’d need the alone time. When Lou told me they were movin’ back home…well, I just knew they’d need to be together a bit. And now they have these nice memories.”

“Yup. So, what are you doing this weekend? Speaking of alone time, Harry and I have been craving some Niall time.”

“Just me?”

“Mhm.”

“Friday night is usually date night for Sarah and I, but I could probably do Saturday.”

“Great! We were thinking of just going out for a simple bite.”

“Cool, yeah, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the alone time, or maybe her and Rachel could hang out.” He shrugs.

“Perfect! Just let me know once you confirm it.” You smile and leave his office.

Harry shows up at noon like he said he would, with Buster, and you two eat. He tells you all about the tour and shows you the pictures.

“Oh! And I got you a little key chain too.” He pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you.

“Aw, thank you, sweetie.” You give him a peck on the lips and add the chain to your keys. “I love it.”

“I can’t thank you enough for putting all that together for us. It was a great few days.”

“It was my pleasure, Harry.” He stands up and puts his hands on your hips.

“You look really nice today.” You had a pencil skirt and a blouse on, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Thank you.” He kisses you and you kiss him back, but you press against his chest. “That’s enough of that.” You giggle.

“One of these days I’m gonna get you bent over this desk, just you wait and see.” He smirks.

“Mhm, sure. Niall said he might be able to go out with us Saturday night.

“Oh, great! I gotta go, I have a one o’clock. I’ll see you at home, love you.”

“Love you too.” You kiss one more time before he leaves with Buster.

Harry’s hands were on you the second he got through the door. He missed you so much, and your period was over, so you were game for whatever he wanted to do. He had you on top of the kitchen counter, your skirt bunched up at your hips, and was thrusting in and out of you. You hand one hand in his hair and one hand on his shoulder. Both gripping at him furiously.

“Feels so fuckin’ good.” He groans. You moan your response when you feel his fingers rub your clit. “Need you naked, now.” He pucks you up, staying inside you, and waddles down to your bedroom.

You can’t help but giggle, but you’re left whimpering when he pulls out to set you down. He unbuttons your blouse and gets everything off of you. He strips himself as well, and then he’s back inside of you, one of your legs over his shoulder to get in nice and deep.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out as he hits your g-spot.

“Right there, baby?”

“Yes! Right there! So good, Harry.”

He drives in deeper and faster, making your body start to shake. You moan out his name as you release around him. He drops your leg and gets closer to you. His chest flush with yours. Your nails run down his back as he rocks in and out of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, the two of you were as close as you possibly could be.

“Love you so much.” He says into your ear.

“Love you too.”

“Love you forever.” He groans. He was starting to come to his own release.

“Forever and ever, Harry.”

He loses it and grips one of your hands as he fills you up. Your fingers intertwine as you both catch your breaths. You move to cup his cheeks so you can kiss him. Your tongues mold together and you both just enjoy the taste of each other. He pulls out of you and lays next to you, his hand drawing shapes on your stomach.

“I mean it you know?” You look at him. “I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

“Well I should hope so because I plan to do the same.” You lean down and kiss the tip of his nose.

He watches you get up and slip into the bathroom. He lays on his back with his arms behind his head. He had the life he always wanted and dreamed of. His career was a successful one, and he was going to marry the perfect woman. You were the person he had waited his whole life for. Every person he had been with prior was just his journey to you, and only you.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles angst fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #my everything #take it slow sequel #fluff #smut #angst #hope everyone has a great friday!#feedback is always appreciated!!

204 notes · View notes

moonah-rose · 3 years

Text

What She Needs

Quick EOTB (not a) drabble for @cecret-with-c . This should make up for me clearly not finishing my other whump fic by the weekend as I’d hoped.

This stinks!

For that matter, when did the waves outside get so rough and loud? It’s as if every sound in this little corner of paradise he created has been amplified for his annoyance, right down to the mice scurrying around in the walls who only came out to help carry a lost remote or dropped earring.

No matter how what position he lays in, no matter how much he tosses and turns, he can’t seem to get himself comfy. It makes no sense! He made sure to summon the most desirable sofa, specifically for human napping, as he knew it would be used as Eleanor’s second bed as much as sitting to watch TV. Neither of them had any issues with it before so why was it so hard for him to get to sleep now?! Why did the pillows suddenly feel so damn lumpy?

Maybe sleeping on the couch was always this difficult. He can’t say he ever did it before. Ever since he learned how to sleep, it was always with Eleanor, in her bed. Sometimes they would take the occasional nap on the sofa together, curled up in front of a movie or spent after a day of simulated adventures. She took many a snooze on here during those early weeks, where she’d be buried underneath a blanket, clinging to one of the cushions like a shield while Michael pottered around her, trying to create as calm and normal an atmosphere as possible. Perhaps she found it as awkward as he did now, but was too frightened (and mute) to complain?

Oh, stop it, Mikey. Stop trying to rationalise this.

He knew the reason he was truly so alert. The same reason he had been exiled to the couch in the first place.

“Are you just not gonna talk to me for the whole weekend then?” He asks once they’ve made it through the threshold and she’s still storming ahead.

He makes sure to scan the area, ensure the soundproofing is on, never too careful if one of his coworkers has followed to spy on them.

“Yep!” Eleanor snaps back before realising her mistake; “Oh...fork, that didn’t count!”

“Oh, c’mon, I said ‘my bad’! What more do you want?”

“Cockroaches, dude! You called me and my friends ‘cockroaches’ - you really don’t get why that pisses me off?!” She turns and rounds on him.

Maybe she, too, had been waiting until they were out of demon-sight to rage at him.

Michael raises his hands; “I did not say that!”

“Oh so your exact words weren’t ‘you guys are like cockroaches’?!” She quotes him, lowering her voice to badly imitate him.

He waves his hand.

“Yes, but I wasn’t...I wasn’t trying to insult you. Chidi asked me a straight question, I gave him a straight answer...Which happened to be a metaphor!” He tried to defend, stepping through the foyer of the beach house.

Eleanor was already on her way into the kitchen to grab a can of J.D and coke.

“Look, he asked me if I knew why I was struggling with understanding some of the things in his class and I was just trying to say, as an immortal being, I am technically superior to the rest of you...Your species!” He corrects himself as soon as she turns to scowl at him; “And I tried to put that into perspective for him! How it feels for me, a creature with unfathomable abilities and has been around since the dawn of time, to have to be taught lessons from a creature like him - a tiny, fragile, mortal species whose only existed for a tiny blink in all eternity.”

“And the first thing that came to mind...was a cockroach?!”

Oh, she really is pissed about this.

He took a breath and tried to move closer, his hands out.

“Babe, c’mon now. You know I’d never mean to call you anything like that. It was just a force of habit, it’s how they would explain our jobs to use in Torturing 101.” He tries to tell her, his palm hovering near her elbow as she swigged her drink; “Old habits die hard but I’m trying my best, you know that, right?”

She meets his eyes, the sternness in her brow weakening a little, he can see. There’s a twinge in her lips as she refuses to melt.

“Old habits seem to be alive and well this week, man. Especially when you made Chidi’s writing come off the wall and attack him, just because he corrected you on Consequentialism!”

“Come on! You laughed at that!”

“No, Jason did! I...wanted to but resisted, which is what you should be learning to do! Stop lashing out at Chidi whenever he gives you the slightest bit of negative feedback, he’s only trying to help - which he keeps doing even though you can be such a nightmare student that you make me look like a teacher’s pet!” Eleanor cringes, putting down her can and stepping back; “Oh, what the fork have you turned me into?!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’ve become a total nerd! That’s on you.” Michael deflected as he hung up his jacket and removed his bowtie, snapping his fingers to turn his trousers to jeans.

“Actually, ding dong, only reason I even asked Chidi to help me be a better person was because you tricked me into believing I wasn’t good enough to get into Heaven!”

“That wasn’t a trick, that’s a fact of the Universe.”

“You know what I mean! This is all your fault! We’re having to put up with these stupid fake tortures every day and when I’m not pretending to be miserable about that, I gotta babysit my demon boyfriend to try and stop him from actually torturing one of my best friends!” Eleanor raises her tone as she rounds on him; “And even when I finally get a chance to escape it all, I end up having a fight with said stupid demon boyfriend who’s too much of a jerkash to admit when he’s crossed the line!”

He watches her get closer, inch by inch, doing his best not to dismiss her comments and only focus on how cute she looks when she’s angry, as well as how hot it is for her to be so fearless shouting down an all-powerful immortal being.

Michael blinks as he realises she’s waiting for a response.

“Oh, you mean me?”

Eleanor groans again, moving back to the fridge. She grabbed as many J.D cans as she could carry before pushing past Michael and heading towards their bedroom.

He watches her go with a frown; “What you taking all those in there for?”

“Because I am gonna spend my torture-free night alone, in my room, drinking, eating crab and watching Real Housewives until I pass out.” She mutters as she turns the knob.

“Sounds good, count me in.” He went to follow.

“Alone!”

That sounded less good. Michael stops in his tracks, watching her slam the door. He scoffs. She’ll be back out soon. What’s she gonna do, just leave him to sleep alone on the couch?

Yes, apparently.

Were he a true demon, he’d be hoping that Eleanor was having as much trouble getting to sleep as him. That she was regretting starting a fight on what was supposed to be their monthly getaway together and was going to appear any second to apologise and agree to forget it ever happened.

But he doesn’t, because he’s already passed failing at being evil, try as his natural instincts might try to rear their ugly tentacles again. He can’t wish anything bad upon her, the woman who changed his life, who shone a light in the darkness. He doesn’t even enjoy torturing her friends, not really. Chidi, a little, as an outlet, but only for an instant high that quickly wore off when he had to deal with the consequences. Which was mostly Eleanor being pissed at him.

He wondered how close she was coming to being tempted to turn a steak knife on him again? He probably deserved it.

It was...tough, being part of a team. Bonding with Eleanor on her own, two of them here isolated away from everyone else, had run so smoothly, as if it were destiny if he dared to entertain such a lame concept. But having to share her with others, taking classes with them, sometimes it was fun but other times...Ugh, he could gladly wish for retirement. He didn’t enjoy feeling dumb or small or...so clearly inferior to the kind, ethical human who got to spend way more time with his girlfriend than he did.

Not that Michael would ever bring that up. He’d sound as bad as Ross in Season Three when he was being possessive of Rachel with that Mark guy. What a tool.

Don’t be a Ross, Mikey. That’s Ethics for Dummies right there.

He sighs, heavily, imagining losing Eleanor forever because of being like that doofus was with Rachel. He was better than that. He understood how important this was to her. He tried to respect her friends and what it meant for her to have all of them as a group; the family she’d been denied...that they’d all been denied in some way or another.

It’s on you to make this right, he tells himself.

He hit his pillow before groaning again. Fine! First thing in the morning, he’ll wake her up with a nice breakfast, he’ll say sorry, he’ll let her know how frustrated he’s been with Vicky and others lately, and how he should make it up to Chidi and-

Click.

Michael freezes. That was definitely Eleanor’s bedroom door.

He closes his eyes, pretending to sleep. He doesn’t wanna try to do this now, not at this hour. Let them have a night apart to think, let her sleep, let it be a surprise to wake up to. She’s probably just coming in to grab some water from the Brita. Or some midnight shrimp from that infinite platter in the fridge. There’s a rapid thumping sound rippling through the air. He can barely hear her bare feet pad across the carpet...

On their way towards...him...

He struggles not to open his eyes when he feels the smaller body push against him, moving him back against the cushions and slipping under his arm for the lack of a blanket. He doesn’t need one and, even without his natural fiery body heat, it’s warm enough tonight. So why is she shaking all over as she curls into him-?

Oh. Oh shirt. Not again.

“You okay-?” he whispers only to find a palm pressed to his lips.

“Shut up!” her voice commands, her fierce tone trembling with fear; “M’still mad at you!”

Clearly. That’s not his main concern right now.

He nods, opening his eyes. The remnants of tears shine on her cheeks.

He carefully moves his hand to wipe them with his thumb, cradling her face as if it were the most precious object in existence.

“Just tell me what you need.” He says, softly.

They can deal with all the rest in the morning. Right here, right now, he’s to do what his role has always been since they first arrived here.

Does she want to talk about it? Can he get her anything?

He doesn’t need to ask these questions. They’ve been uttered a hundred times, over a hundred nights, throughout this house. He’s never denied her a thing and he’s hardly going to stop tonight.

Eleanor sniffs; “...Just...do the thing...”

He nods; “C’mere.” he lifts his arm again, letting her curl in close against this chest before he wraps her up tight. His fingers gently massage up and down her back as she tries to sync her breathing with his, burying her face in his chest. He whispers the same soothing words, the same promises of safety, the same tender reassurance that it will all be okay. She can never hear it enough, not after what she had to endure. It’s a miracle she ever came back from it.

Michael chances his luck a little when he feels her begin to calm by brushing his lips against her hair. She gives the smallest hum, fingers still clutching on tight.

“Still mad.” She mumbles, nuzzling into him.

“I know.” He whispers, “And I’m still here.” Always.

He’s not sure when the couch became comfortable again but he can feel his own eyes becoming heavy. He watches her face, so close to his, admiring the smoothness of her skin and each hair out of place.

“Guess I might as well stay...” Eleanor says, sleepily; “I know you need me to look after you.”

He grants her that, smiling; “We cockroaches gotta stick together, right?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Still not good?”

Her lips twitch; “Getting better. We’ll make a human outta you soon, demon babe. Now go the fork to sleep.”

#hellstrop minific #npl au #fluff #michael x eleanor #nightmare hurt / comfort #established relationship

10 notes · View notes

canirove · 8 months

Text

The Princess & the Football Player | Chapter 35

Author’s note: First of the last four chapters...

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"May I come in?" I ask after knocking on the door.

"Yes, of course" Charles replies. "It's good to see you again, Eleanor."

"Yeah, you too" I smile.

"Please, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"So…" he says, nervously playing with his hands. "You wanted to talk, right?"

"Yes. I… I owe you an apology, Charles."

"What for?"

"What for?" I chuckle. "Charles, you asked me to marry you in front of a hundred guests and I said no and ran away!"

"You did. And?"

"And? Aren't you mad at me?"

"Not really" he shrugs.

"What?"

"I mean, I was when you left. But now I'm just… sad."

"And it is all my fault. That's why I must apologize."

"It isn't all your fault. I am the one who fell in love with you despite knowing that you loved someone else."

"I… I…"

"It's ok, Eleanor" he says, taking my hand on his.

"I'm sorry, Charles. I truly am. I really tried to make things work, to love you the way you love me. But I…"

"You are in love with Declan."

"I am, yes. I tried to forget him, but I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"That usually happens when you meet the one, yes" he chuckles.

"Do you think he is the one?"

"Definitely" Charles smiles. "You've never looked at me or any other guy the way you look at him. Never smiled or laughed with me the way you have with him. And I've always been so jealous… Because I could see that it was true love, the one many people wish to find one day. And you should see the way he looks at you too, Eleanor… Heart eyes emoji."

"What?" I laugh.

"It is the only way to describe it" he shrugs again. "You are destined to be together, and one way or another, it was bound to happen."

"I just wish it would have happened differently. That I hadn't broken your heart in the process and made the press harass everyone Declan and I know because of it."

"Has it been that bad?"

"He's been living at West Ham's training center since Christmas because there are paps outside his house day and night. David still has people keeping an eye on his family because they've also bothered them. And from time to time they also follow Roberta and Mason."

"That sucks. I'm so sorry" Charles says, giving my hand a little squeeze.

"Thank you" I smile. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted to see you. To apologize, but also to tell you that I'm planning on talking with the press. I want to try and answer all their questions so they will leave everyone alone."

"What are you going to tell them?"

"That I said no to marrying you because I wasn't ready to take that step yet. That we discussed it, realized that we wanted different things, and decided to end our relationship."

"And when they ask if it was because you still love Declan? Because they will ask about him."

"I'll tell them that all these years we've remained as friends, and that it still stands, that nothing has changed between us. And then of course I'll ask them to please stop harassing him and his family."

"Will they stop, tho?"

"Knowing them they won't, no" I sigh. "But I have to try."

"Is that a wise idea, tho? Talking to the press like that? You know they will push you to say more, to doubt and give them what they want" Charles says.

"David says it isn't. Grandmama says that it is the best option, to make things clear and that they hear me saying it. And my parents think the best idea is to release a statement."

"How did they take the news? Your mum must have been pissed."

"She's actually been very supportive, you know how our relationship has changed these past few years. The one who still is a bit confused is my dad. He didn't see it coming."

"Him? The man who knew you liked Declan since the moment you met? C'mon" Charles chuckles.

"That's what we've told him!" I laugh. "But he just says that he didn't notice because he is getting old."

"Could he be thinking about passing on the crown?"

"Nah, not yet."

"But you should start thinking about it…"

"Charles, I have enough problems and things to worry about right now. I don't need more."

"Ok, ok" he laughs. "But one day you are gonna be an amazing queen."

"You think so?"

"I'm sure of it."

"When I'm queen… Will I still have you as one of my best friends?"

"You will. I promise" Charles smiles, showing his dimples.

"Everything good between us, then?"

"Everything good."

"I love you, Charles. Even if it isn't the way you would like me to."

"I love you too, Eleanor" he says before hugging me. "Though one last thing."

"What" I say, moving to look at him.

"Tell Mr. Rice that if he dares to hurt you, I myself am sending MI6 after him."

"Oh, don't worry about that. My family already warned him."

"Good, good" Charles chuckles. "But now, since you've come all the way down to Monaco and the weather is pretty good keeping in mind it is January… Would you like to go for a boat ride? As friends, of course."

"I would love that."

"On y va, your royal Highness" Charles says, standing up and offering me his hand.

"On y va" I smile as I take it.

#declan rice #declan rice fanfic #declan rice imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

21 notes · View notes

theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Alone in the Ashes {3}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Oh, the build up.

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“What are the chances you’d ever meet someone like that? he wondered. Someone you could love forever, someone who would forever love you back? And what did you do when that person was born half a world away? The math seemed impossible.” ― Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park

Feyre woke up with a pounding headache. It couldn’t have been too late, the sun was still rising. She groaned as she rolled over, searching for her phone, but finding nothing. When she sat up, and found herself in her black cotton bra and panties, her cheeks turned red.

The events of the night before flooded her mind - with a few blank spots.

She remembered Rhys being punched, remembered Tamlin being punched by Rhys, remembered getting pissed off, remembered dancing, remembered drinking…

A lot.

After that, things grew hazy, but she vaguely remembered puking on Rhysand’s crotch.

Rhysand.

After wrapping a blanket around her body, she stomped across the hall and threw open the door. Rhysand was sound asleep, his face in his pillow, a blanket wrapped around his waist.

The black winged tattoos on his back gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains. It started at the lowest point of his back and trailed up, curling up over his shoulders.

She remembered when he was in high school. He had come a long way since being the lanky boy she met her freshman year. Now, his shoulders were broad, his arms thick, his tanned skin covered in black ink.

Feyre, completely aware of the admiration she was giving his body, stormed to his bed and threw off his comforter. Gray sweatpants hung low on his hips.

His head jerked up, his eyes still closed, his hair sticking up. “Fu-Wha..”

Those violet eyes fluttered open and caught sight of Feyre, blanket wrapped around her. “Good morning, asshole.”

He blinked, coming more to his senses. He rubbed at his eyes before propping himself on his elbows. “Would you like to elaborate?”

“Would you like to tell me why I woke up practically naked this morning?” she asked, voice rising.

Rhysand raised a brow as he looked at her, exasperated. “You’re fucking welcome.”

Feyre hesitated, and she knew he saw it, because he rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head, one knee drawn up. “You were a mess last night. Don’t you remember?”

“Some…” Feyre muttered, lifting up her chin.

“Where should I start filling you in?” Rhysand said, grinning. Oh, he was loving this. “When you hung your head out of the window on the way home, telling the city how much you love tequila, or when you stuck your tongue down my throat?”

A vision appeared in Feyre’s mind, her hands on his face, pulling him forward, her mouth against his.

Rhysand snorted, watching her expression. “Don’t worry. I broke it off quickly. Then, you puked all over the both of us, and all over the bathroom...so, apparently the kiss wasn’t all that great.”

“You cleaned me up,” Feyre said, quietly, her eyes softening.

Rhysand’s grin had softened, too, as he tilted his head. “Of course I did. What kind of friend would I be if I let you go to bed, covered in puke?”

Feyre sat on the edge of his mattress and cursed, before falling back onto his bed. “Did I at least make it out of the bar before I started embarrassing myself?”

Rhysand laughed. “Depends what you mean by embarrassing.”

She looked up at him. He was sitting up now, pushing his hair back. She could see the bruise, now black and blue, just below his eye. Tamlin hit him good.

And it was all her fault.

His grin faded as he watched the thoughts go through her head. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“And how do you know that’s what I’m thinking about?” she asked.

“Because I know you,” he said. “And because I can see where your eyes are directed.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Why?” he asked. “It’s not your fault he’s a prick.”

“I came here, with you,” she said. “And it didn’t make his suspicions lessen, that’s for sure. Now, he thinks you took me from him, and I assume last night will not be the only fight that breaks out because of it.”

Rhysand sighed, laying down on his stomach beside her. He looked down at her, eyes bright. “I don’t care about that, Feyre. All I care about is that you are away from him, out of that house, out of that relationship. You deserve better.”

He had always told her that, from the moment they started dating in high school. You shouldn’t be with Tam. You’re too good for him. He doesn’t treat you like you deserve to be treated.

“You don’t deserve to be bombarded in a bar,” she said.

Rhysand didn’t say anything else, but he watched her, and the gleam in his eyes made her remember that she was hardly wearing anything beneath the blanket she had burrito-ed herself in.

“I’m going to go put on pants,” she said.

Rhysand’s grin returned. “Probably a good idea. Apparently, you can’t control yourself around me.”

“Fuck you,” Feyre laughed, pushing against his shoulder.

He didn’t waiver. He just watched her, and laughed, and ruffled her hair, which earned him a scowl in return.

“Next time, you should knock,” he said, as she got up to leave his bedroom. “You have no idea what goes on in here at night.”

Feyre turned in the threshold, smiling wickedly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caught you masturbating.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed. “I was adjusting myself, for the last time! That was the year of overly-tight skinny jeans…”

“You can keep telling everybody that, but we all know the truth,” she winked, before going back across the hall and closing herself inside of her bedroom, ignoring Rhysand’s protests.

She found a bottle of Advil in her nightstand and took a few before pulling on some leggings and a t-shirt.

She still felt like shit, but Rhysand always had a knack for making her feel better, no matter her mood or the level of her hangover. When she walked into the kitchen, Rhysand was eating a bowl of cereal at their little table, his chest still bare.

“Wanna go for a run this morning?” he asked, mouth full.

“I would literally rather do anything else,” Feyre muttered, pulling a Gatorade out of the fridge and walking to the couch, where she collapsed.

Rhysand’s phone chimed on the side table next to her.

“Mind telling me who that is?” he asked, voice hardly comprehensible.

“If you stop talking with your mouth full,” she mumbled, reaching for his phone.

The number was unknown, but the message had her tensing.

Hey, Rhysand. My name is Clare. Your friend gave me your number last night. I was wondering if you wanted to go get a drink later?

Feyre read the message twice, and hesitated, then felt ridiculous for hesitating. Rhysand deserved to go out with a cute girl for a drink. Why wouldn’t he?

“Some girl,” she said. “Apparently Cassian was giving out your number again.”

“Hmm,” Rhysand said. His bowl and spoon clattered in the sink before he walked to the living room and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling Feyre’s feet onto his lap. She handed him his phone, and he read the message before tossing it aside.

He turned on the t.v., as if nothing had happened.

“Well?” Feyre asked, as Rhysand leaned back against the couch cushions. “Are you going to reply?”

Rhysand shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You should,” Feyre said, eyeing him. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Rhysand looked her way, brows raised. “Why do I feel like I’m being attacked?”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “I’m not attacking you, I just think it would be nice for you to go out. Meet someone.”

Rhysand snorted. “Yeah, well...we’ll see.”

“You should go.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m serious.”

“We’ll see.”

“Rhys.”

“Feyre.”

He wouldn’t look at her. His smile was not reaching his eyes. Maybe she was being too pushy, but it had been a long time since Rhysand’s last relationship. He dated, hooked up from time to time, but even that had been few.

Feyre opened her mouth to say something more, but their front door opened and Azriel appeared, little Mila in his arms.

She saw Rhysand and beamed. “Rhysie!”

Rhysand smiled, catching Mila once she ran to the couch and threw herself on top of him.

“Hi, Mila,” Feyre said, joyfully watching Rhysand kiss her cheek, and watching Mila wipe it off.

“Hi, Fey,” she said. “I’m glad you live with Rhysie now. It smells better in here.”

Feyre barked a laugh as Azriel slumped down in the armchair across from them.

He looked exhausted.

“Rhys has a date tonight,” Feyre said, in hopes of distracting Azriel.

He lifted his brows, glancing at Rhysand. “Yeah? Who?”

Rhysand was staring at Feyre, eyes narrowed.

“Some girl from the bar last night,” Feyre said, since Rhysand certainly wasn’t going to, it seemed. “And he’s going.”

“No, I’m not,” he said.

Azriel looked intrigued. He propped his chin on his fist. “And why wouldn’t you go?”

Rhysand tensed, looking at Azriel with his jaw locked. “Because I work tomorrow, dipshit.”

“When?” Azriel implied. “Ten? You can’t go on a date tonight because you work at ten tomorrow morning? That’s not very early, Rhys.”

Rhysand said nothing, but the look he was giving Azriel had Feyre glancing back and forth between the two of them.

“Just saying,” Azriel muttered.

“Me too,” Feyre added.

“Fine,” Rhysand breathed. “If I go, will everyone stay out of my dating life?”

“Yah,” Mila said, making even Rhysand smile.

“Good,” Rhys laughed, tickling Mila’s tummy. “Thank you.”

~~~~~

Nesta and Elain sat at the diner their mother used to take them to when they were young. It was family-owned, a tiny little building on the corner of Main Street and Second Avenue. They had already been seated for five minutes, and neither of them had said a word.

They didn’t have a lot in common. They hadn’t since they were children and, even then, they didn’t have a ton in common. But, at least back then, they played together, laughed together, kept each other company.

Now, sitting through lunch was agonizing.

“So, how’s work going?” Elain asked, at last.

Nesta looked up from her menu. “Well, I haven’t gotten fired yet, so that’s a perk. Other than that, it’s shit. Thanks for asking.”

Elain nodded. She still hadn’t touched her menu.

“What about you? Started looking yet?” Nesta asked.

Elain hadn’t had a job since everything had gone down with Graysen, but now that she was living at home with their dad, Nesta assumed she had to find a job again somewhere, doing something.

“Not yet,” she replied, quietly. “But I will.”

“Sure you will.” Nesta sighed, setting her menu down on the table. “Ready to order?”

Elain nodded. Nesta called over the waitress. She ordered a BLT and fries. Elain ordered a yogurt parfait, loaded with berries.

“How’s Tomas?” Elain asked, once the waitress walked away.

“Great,” Nesta lied. She hadn’t seen him or talked to him since he left her ass at the nightclub. “He’s out with his brothers today.”

“Doing what?”

Nesta shrugged, sipping her coffee. “How’s dear old dad?”

“He seems okay,” Elain said, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. “Not very social. Spends most of his time in his office or at the park, feeding the birds and talking to some old man named Phil.”

“Why Phil?” Nesta asked.

Elain shrugged. “He tells dad stories, I guess. Apparently he’s, like, ninety and has nothing better to do.”

“Neither does dad, apparently,” Nesta mumbled.

“Yeah,” Elain agreed. “I think he’s lonely.”

Nesta snorted. “Of course he is. Look how he’s spent the last decade, since mom died.”

Elain took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t speak of mom’s death like it’s nothing.”

Nesta tensed. “I’m not. I’m just saying, dad hasn’t really done a lot since then, has he?”

Elain didn’t protest. Instead, she took a sip of her water before slowly setting her cup back down on the coaster.

Nesta looked at her phone. No notifications. She supposed that would be the way it would be from now on, since Tomas was no longer in the picture. He was all that she’d had - a sad realization, not that it bothered her too much. Nesta preferred to be alone.

“Dad misses you,” Elain said, suddenly, voice quiet. “He misses Feyre, too.”

“Maybe he should put a little more effort into his relationship with us, then,” Nesta snapped. “He hasn’t done much of that in almost ten years.”

“It’s not that he didn’t want to-”

“Damn it, Elain,” Nesta growled. Elain froze. “Stop defending him! He’s useless. He doesn’t deserve my sympathy, or yours.”

“You should just-”

“I won’t do anything,” Nesta said, interrupting. “And you, Elain, should get a job and get your ass out of that house, or you’ll end up his babysitter like Feyre used to be.”

Elain kept quiet.

The waitress returned with their food, and the moment Nesta’s plate was in front of her, she started on her sandwich. Elain just stared at her plate.

“Eat, Elain,” Nesta whispered. “You need to eat.”

Elain did so, quietly and slowly.

Nesta felt a sudden pang of guilt settle in the pit of her stomach. Elain had gone through enough, and Nesta knew that. Her fiance had cheated on her, she was forced to move in with their useless father, and she had lost way too much weight. Nesta’s hostility wasn’t helping, as much as she meant every word that came out of her mouth.

“Alright, look,” Nesta sighed, setting her sandwich down. “I’ll come over for dinner. Alright? Later this week.”

Elain perked up, just a little bit. She popped a strawberry into her mouth. “Bring Tomas, too? Dad wants to meet him.”

Nesta just lifted her eyebrows and took another bite of her sandwich.

The rest of lunch went okay. In fact, most things went okay when Nesta stayed quiet and only answered questions with one or two words. In one or two words, it was much harder to disappoint Elain. Not impossible, but much more difficult.

When Nesta’s plate was clear, she paid for the bill, hugged Elain goodbye and promised she would be at dinner later in the week, before walking back to her apartment.

She didn’t have a car, not anymore. She had to sell it the year before to keep up with rent. Living in the city, there was always public transportation, so she decided, in the end, a car was not necessarily a necessity.

She missed having a car, though, especially on days like today. The sun was shining brightly, the air was warm but not too warm. It was a perfect day to drive outside of the city with the music blaring, the windows down.

But not for Nesta. Instead, she was walking down the sidewalk, pulling a cigarette and her lighter out of her jacket pocket.

She had three hours before she had to be at work, and no fun way to pass the time. She had no money, no friends, and two cigarettes left. Drinking was an obvious no - showing up to work drunk never did anyone any good. And Nesta couldn’t lose her job. She could barely make ends meet as it was.

By the time she made it back to her apartment, she was already exhausted, craving her bed. She unlocked the door and looked around. Complete silence. No sign of Tomas. He hadn’t called or texted since he left her at the night club, and it was looking like he wouldn’t.

It was for the best, though. He was a nuisance. Even the sex, which had been good at first, had turned into more of an annoyance than anything else. In the end, every time his hands roamed her body, she grew nauseous.

His stupid, little hands.

Just as she settled on her couch, a knock came on the front door.

Nesta sighed. “Go away!”

They knocked again.

“Fuck off!” she yelled, lighting her last cigarette. She should stop at the gas station on the way to work, would have to leave ten minutes early.

Another knock.

Nesta mumbled a long string of curses as she stomped to the door and threw open the door. Cassian stood there, wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt, sweating profusely, as if he’d just gone for a run.

“What the fuck?” she breathed. “You’ve lived in this shithole for two days, hardly, and you can’t seem to leave me alone.”

He held up an envelope. “Snuck into my mailbox. Addressed to you.”

When she didn’t reach up to grab it, he dropped it at her feet, and turned to cross the hall to his own apartment.

When he opened the door, a golden retriever jumped up on him. He greeted the pup with a smile and scratched its head before closing the door.

Nesta hated herself for watching.

~~~~~

Rhysand got out of the shower and dried off his hair, his body, before pulling on a pair of jeans. When he walked into the living room, Cassian and Feyre were playing candyland with Mila on the floor while Azriel was pacing on the phone out on the balcony.

“Did he hear something new?” Rhysand asked, opening up a water bottle.

Cassian looked from Azriel, to Mila, who was laughing with Feyre, then to Rhysand. “Talking with the police now. Before that, the hospital called.” Rhysand cursed. Azriel’s adopted sister had put him through hell, had put Mila through hell, had put everyone through hell.

But it always fell on Azriel’s shoulders. His parents, who had adopted him in his early teens, didn’t want anything to do with any of them - not anymore.

“I hear you’re going out on a date,” Cassian crooned, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Forced to,” Rhysand muttered. “Got to leave soon.”

“What shirt are you wearing?” Feyre asked, Mila pulled onto her lap. “Wear the blue one. Brings out your eyes.”

“Which blue one?” he asked, downing the water bottle and throwing it across the room in the trash. “I have a closet full of blue shirts.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Make Cassian suffer while I’m gone,” Feyre told Mila, before setting her on the floor next to the game board. “You,” she said, pointing at Rhysand. “Follow me.”

Rhysand groaned as he followed Feyre into his bedroom. She was already sorting through his closet.

“You really need to start branching out,” Feyre said, chuckling. “Everything in here looks the same. And most of it can’t be worn on a date. To the gym? Yes. On a date? No. What the hell do you find to wear to work?”

He looked down at the jeans he was wearing as he sat on the edge of his bed. “You’re looking at it.”

Feyre pulled a blue, plaid button down shirt out and yanked it off the hanger. “Put this on.”

Rhysand didn’t move as the shirt hit him in the chest. “You seem awfully pushy.”

“I should be pushy,” she said, smiling at him as he stood and pulled the shirt on. “You deserve to have fun. You can’t just ignore women forever because I’m living with you now.”

Rhysand hesitated, then he nodded.

He buttoned up the shirt and pushed his sleeves up. “Alright. Good?”

Feyre tilted her head and took him in. “The bare feet are throwing me off.”

Rhysand chuckled. His eyes softened as he watched her, leaning up against his wall in an oversized sweatshirt. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay in tonight? I can. I don’t-”

“Rhys,” she said, arms crossed. “Go. But text me first, please, if you bring her back. That’s the last thing I wanna walk in on.”

Rhysand wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t be bringing her back, but he hesitated. One, because it would’ve brought suspicion, and two, because he really couldn’t make that promise as much was he wanted to.

The reality of it was that Rhysand hadn’t been on a date in years. It had been a while since he’d had anything and, yes, a lot of that was because of Feyre. Hell, all of that was because of Feyre. But, she didn’t want him like that, shouldn’t want him like that. Not after just getting out of a long, shitty relationship.

Not after being friends, great friends, just friends, for over ten years.

“Alright,” he settled on, at last. He pulled a brown pair of boots out of the bottom of his closet and pulled them on. “Bare feet gone. Now?”

She looked at him, chuckled, then walked toward him, slowly. She pushed his hair back and patted him on the cheek. “Very handsome.”

“I know,” Rhysand whispered, but there wasn’t quite enough snark in it as he wanted there to be.

Rhysand went out. He met Clare at the bar. They ate, and talked, and drank, and laughed, and it was fun. Rhysand found that he was enjoying himself, which far preceded his earlier notions. Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder what Feyre was doing.

Then he thought himself creepy.

They had separate lives. They were roommates. Friends.

“Rhysand?”

He blinked, coming out of his thoughts. Clare was watching him with wide, pleading eyes from across the table.

“Sorry,” he smiled. He had already paid, and Clare had already shrugged on her jacket. “Ready?”

She nodded, smiling brightly. Clare was cute, in the obvious way. But it was all surface level beauty. She was a sweet girl, but there was no depth. They’d have nice conversation, fun conversation, but it was all small talk. He knew what she did for fun, that she liked her job, that summer was her favorite season. And he supposed that was what first dates were for - getting all the little facts out of the way. Maybe he was just over first dates. Maybe he just wanted something more.

Rhysand took Clare home, telling her to ignore another round of public transportation, and she invited him in, but he said no. He’d told her he’d had a good time and he would call her again, sometime, and maybe he would.

Then he drove home, and when he opened the door to their apartment, Feyre was sound asleep on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background. He turned off the t.v. and covered her with a blanket before closing himself inside of his room.

Alone.

~~~~~

Elain wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t, once again.

Maybe she should stop taking the pills.

She couldn’t stop taking the pills.

She sat in her bed, scrolling through job posts on her laptop. At first, she had been inspired. Nesta was right that morning at their lunch. She needed a job, needed to make a life for herself, needing to get out of their dad’s house.

She was too old to be living with their father, to be relying on a man that couldn’t even take care of himself.

And yet, the longest she scrolled through the listings, the more depressed she felt.

She was qualified for nothing.

Elain had been valedictorian of her high school class, had gone to university with honors and held the top of her class, all four years, until she graduated. She was smart, had been smart. School had been easy for her, but it did not prepare her for the real world, one bit. Even with a degree in journalism.

A degree that never got her anywhere.

She went back to working in retail after college, until she met Graysen and fell in love with him. Along with his father, he was co-owner of their family business. For a guy in his late-twenties, he was very well off. Elain still worked, but not nearly as much, and once Elain had caught him cheating, she stopped going to work as she spiraled.

They fired her.

She hadn’t had a job in the months since.

But now, it was time.

The last thing she wanted to do was go back into retail, but with a degree in journalism and no jobs in that field, it wasn’t looking like she had that much of a choice.

Multiple boutiques were hiring on the strip downtown, a department store was hiring in the mall, and she could also apply for a job in the food industry, but being around food all day was the last thing that she wanted.

Retail it would be, then.

She applied to a few places with her extraordinarily sad resume before calling it a night.

A strong, summer wind blew outside of her window, howling in the silence of her bedroom, as Elain closed her laptop and fell back against her pillows.

She supposed she should at least try to sleep.

Azriel would be arriving in the morning to start on their garage.

It wouldn’t do her any good to wake up looking like a zombie.

But the sleep never came, and she laid awake staring at the ceiling until dawn came.

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

Tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

@photofeesh

@mariamuses

@tswaney17

@amaranthas-whore

@awesomelena555

@danika-defendyr

@rachaels14

@hashtolanashoba

@poisonous00

@chemicha

@mynewdreamwasyou

@candid-confetti

@my-fan-side

@ifangirlninja

@sleeping-and-books

@burritowithfeels

@morebooks-pls

@sannelovesreading

@halstudies

@amren-courtofdreams

@wifeofchrishemsworth

@goldr0ses

@humanexile

@booksbooksbooksworld

@girl-who-reads-the-books

@mis-lil-red

@shhhimreading03

@emilyrose111294

@negativenesta

@argentumstella

@itsme-malin

@flora-and-fae

@feyrethedarklady

@starryandbooks

@gingerglides

@gloriouspaintercreatorbandit

@6255igntm

@littlehoneyybee

@the-regal-warrior

@awkward-avocado-s

@aelin-rowan-whitehorn

@julemmaes

@regular-nessian-trash

@ugh-avila

@superspiritfestival

@the-dark-swan

@girlgotattitude448

@eversincebeirut

Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #tacmc AITA #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #nessian #feysand #elriel #nesta #cassian #feyre #rhysand #elain #azriel

216 notes · View notes

banditthewriter · 4 years

Text

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 2

The response to the first part of this series was so amazing. Thank you to everyone who has read/commented/liked/reblogged. I appreciate it so much. Here we have part two.

Remember, we’re not really supposed to like Vane yet.

Pairings: Eventual Charles Vane x reader. Past Billy Bones x reader.

Warning: Mild violence. Also a general dislike of Eleanor Guthrie, sorry!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

“You look like you could use a drink,” a feminine voice said from your side. You looked over and gave half a smile to Eleanor Guthrie. “On the house?”

You handed over a package to Mr. Humphries, one of your most loyal customers. He smiled as he paid the rest that you were due, but the look on his face said that he didn’t think you should be standing so close to the Guthrie woman.

All of the people who had been friends with your parents protected you on this island, but that didn’t mean they protected you from just the pirates. They also protected you from the Guthries as best they could.

You were one of the very few people on the island who didn’t rely on them for anything and they didn’t like that.

“I’m actually just heading back to my shop,” you said politely as you tried to turn past her and back into the street.

“I understand. It’s just that I’ve heard some worrying talk of late and I wanted to have a word with you about it.”

You hoped that your face didn’t show the irritation that you felt. Instead of fighting her on it, you gave a tight smile and gestured down the street towards the tavern. Inside she grabbed a bottle of something or other from her man Mr. Clark before she ushered you into the room she used as an office.

It wasn’t your first time there. She’d brought you in not long after you’d taken over the shop from your parents. They hadn’t been willing to bend their knee to the Guthrie rule, had their own contacts in and out of Nassau, and you had kept up that tradition.

She hadn’t been happy to say the least, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it when the entire island was basically against her in that regard.

You sat down across the desk from her and when she poured you a drink, you accepted the glass but didn’t actually drink any. You didn’t have much tolerance for alcohol and the last thing you needed was to be inebriated while not safe.

“What’s this worrying talk and what does it have to do with me?”

Eleanor gave a bit of a laugh as she poured a drink of her own.

“You just cut right to it, don’t you? That’s why I like you Y/N; you’re not afraid to say what’s on your mind.” She swished the liquid in her glass before she took a long gulp from it. “The talk that I’ve heard is that you were sheltering a thief on your land.”

You simply stared at her, not giving credence one way or another. When she realized that you weren’t going to give anything away, she cleared her throat and stood up to pace towards her balcony.

“Thievery isn’t acceptable and the man that’s accused is someone that you know; Billy Bones, from The Walrus.”

You put the glass down on the desk.

“Again, Miss Guthrie, what does this have to do with me?”

That seemed to throw the woman off her stride. You had to admit a perverse pleasure in ruffling her feathers.

“As I’ve just said–”

“You’ve said that there’s been talk. You can’t even be sure that Billy Bones is actually the thief since you’re referring to him as the accused and not the culprit. So it seems, Miss Guthrie, that you’re putting credence in a pirate’s word and dragging the citizens of Nassau into it erroneously.”

You had seen plenty of fish on dry land and you had to applaud Eleanor’s impression of one. Her mouth opened and closed as if you had stolen the words straight from her throat.

She cleared her throat and marched back to the desk, her hands going flat on the surface as she leaned down towards you.

“Where is the map?”

Gossip in a place like Nassau wasn’t just frivolous. Gossip was almost a currency. You might have just called Eleanor out on putting belief in word of mouth, but you knew that there was some gossip that could be relied on.

At one point in time, Eleanor Guthrie and Charles Vane were together. You weren’t sure how serious it had been, but you do know that it had ended rather messily. It was whispered among merchants and pirates alike that since that split, Vane’s crew hadn’t been getting the same treatment they used to in the way of leads.

You’d never given it much thought before, but with her in front of you, you had to wonder if Eleanor was what was called a scorned woman.

You were tired of living your life at the hands of others. Your store was still in shambles and now you were dragged in front of Eleanor as if she was a parental force and you were a naughty child.

No more.

“It’s curious,” you said as you sat up and straightened out your skirt. “Billy Bones supposedly stole the map which means it’s going to Flint already. I can’t think of any other captain that you would’ve sold the map to besides him.”

Her eyes went wide. The hands she had placed on the desk twitched, not nearly proof that you were right but you continued anyways.

“I almost thought that the issue was that someone had been stolen from, but you wouldn’t have cared if Vane lost in this. I bet that’s part of the draw. No, your issue is that the map means something to you. You couldn’t care less that Billy might have stolen the map. You just want to have it back for your own reasons.”

“You’re out of line,” she said as she raised a hand to point at you.

“I thought you liked that I spoke my mind,” you reminded her with a pointed look. Then you stood up, enjoying the look on her face as she scrambled a bit to come around the desk and face you. “I have no idea where the map is or who has it but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. I don’t find myself moved by your facade and I would rather not help you benefit from it.”

Without waiting to be dismissed, you simply turned and walked back towards the door. You had no intention of staying longer than necessary.

“Charles Vane won’t stop if he thinks you have answers for him. What was done to your shop is just the beginning.”

Your hand rested on the handle of the door. For a long moment you just stared at the wood. Then you turned over your shoulder to meet her gaze once more.

“Then I suggest you find a better way to spend your time rather than wasting mine.”

------

It occurred to you as you approached your shop that perhaps there was a layer to the theft that you weren’t aware of. Maybe Eleanor had sold it to Flint as you suspected but it had either been stolen before she was able to get it or the inclusion of the cook was a variable she hadn’t foreseen. He was a new recruit to The Walrus so it was possible that she was worried he would sell it to someone else.

He didn’t have loyalty yet, but Billy did. That would explain why Billy was with Silver when they came to your shop. It wasn’t because Billy stole it, but he was making sure Silver did right by the captain.

As caught up in your thoughts as you were, you almost didn’t realize that the door of your shop wasn’t locked anymore. You pushed it open and stepped in before you realized you hadn’t had to unlock it.

A hand wrapped around your mouth and you were pulled further into the room, your back slammed against a wall. The door had been kicked shut so the room was mostly in darkness, but the man that held you stood close enough for your eyes to pick up an outline.

You hadn’t had much interaction with the man, but you recognized Charles Vane. You reached up to grab his wrist just in time for his other hand to wrap around your throat and give a squeeze.

“Don’t even think about screaming.”

You were tempted to bare your teeth and bite the hand that held you silent, but you kept your calm. Instead you pressed your nails into his wrist about as hard as he squeezed your neck.

“Careful. I could snap your neck in an instant.”

This time you did bite him. Not hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to surprise him. He pulled his hand away and glared at you.

“I couldn’t exactly speak with your hand over my mouth, could I?” Your own glare paled in comparison to his, but you didn’t let that stop you. “I don’t suppose you’re here for some of my highly requested candles, are you? A lot of them were ruined by your crew yesterday, but I’m sure I can find some somewhere for you.”

The hand around your throat squeezed until you didn’t have enough breath to continue.

“Where is my map?”

He released your throat to allow you the chance to respond. After you took a few gulping breaths, you dropped your hands to your sides. It was best to try to appear nonthreatening when he was this pissed.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. When he started to squeeze again, you pressed against his shoulder as hard as you could. “Goddammit Vane, I mean it. I have no idea where the map is. I have no idea where Billy or the cook is and strangling me won’t get you the information any faster.”

The hand he had used to cover your mouth slammed into the wall beside your head.

“I should kill you for lying to me.”

Where was the spine that had you standing up to Eleanor Guthrie and calling her bluff? You took as deep of a breath as you could with the grip on your neck and how close Vane was to you.

“You could,” you allowed in a cold voice, “but think of what hell that will rain down on you. There are few merchants on this island that are as necessary as I am and there are none that could step into my shoes.”

“What makes you think I care about that?”

You knew there were plenty of crews on the island that would defend you if something happened. And the merchant’s would be less than pleased, would stop selling to anyone on The Ranger crew. Perhaps Vane couldn’t see that far ahead or maybe he was just blind to it at the moment.

Either way, you didn’t want that to happen.

“Is the boatswain worth dying for? Is that why you lied?”

“I lied to protect someone I care about. Isn’t there anyone in your life that you would do that for?”

His hand let up on your throat a bit. Not much, but you noticed it. You thought about your conversation with Eleanor and realized that maybe you had more options than you first thought.

“I can’t help you find the map but maybe there’s something else I can do for you.”

He stepped in a little closer, his body pressing along yours. It made it clear what he thought you were offering. The hand that was still on his shoulder shoved hard to put some distance between the two of you.

“I was thinking something a little longer lasting,” you said forcefully. And then with a tilt of your head, “Although it would be easier to explain the proposition without a hand around my throat.”

He released you and then stepped back. He gestured for you to speak before he crossed his arms over his chest.

“The whole of Nassau has heard about how things ended with you and Miss Guthrie. And the whole of Nassau has whispered about the effect that might have had on your business relationship with her. My proposition is this. Instead of selling your haul through her, you come to me. I have more contacts than she could imagine, more than anyone on this island is aware of.”

“You want to be the new fence?”

You shook your head at that.

“Not at all. This is a one time deal, offered to you and you alone. We’d negotiate terms like any deal. I’d be able to garner a profit that Guthrie would only be able to dream of.”

You knew that you had him on the fence, could see it on his face as he looked away from you. He was most likely thinking about the last few prizes he had brought in and what the profit had been.

“There’s a flaw in your plan,” he finally said as he turned back to you. “If I stop going to her, she’ll stop giving me leads. Can’t bring in a profit on a haul that doesn’t exist.”

“Has she been giving you any real leads lately? I hear those are going to much smaller crews.” You shrugged your shoulders purposefully. “I would be able to provide you with leads without contest since you’d be my only client.”

He took a step towards you.

“Where do you intend to find these leads of yours?”

This time you smiled. This was something you had thought about, but you’d never needed the complication or extra work. If it tempered the anger of the captain, you’d happily take on the extra work.

“Again, I have contacts that span the entirety of the globe. I can get the leads from anywhere. I know of three large prizes that launch in the next few weeks alone at this minute and that’s without me actively searching for leads.”

He seemed impressed but not sold yet. You had one last card to play but it was a tricky one. If you misread his feelings on the matter, you could be setting yourself up for trouble.

That in mind, you took a few careful steps away from him.

“Think of how much it will piss her off. Not only would you no longer need her, but you’d be thriving without her and she won’t know why.”

The gamble made, you could only wait. His face didn’t show any inclination as to what he felt. Then he turned towards you and held his hand out.

“We have a deal. We’ll sit down and draw up some terms on the particulars another time.”

You let out a breath before you stepped back towards him. Carefully you took his hand and gave it a brief shake.

It was the first touch that didn’t have the hint of violence. You had to admit that the roughness of his hands felt nice against your skin.

Then you dropped your hand back to your side.

“Now that that’s been decided, I suggest you get out of my shop. I still haven’t repaired everything from your last visit and I’d hate for that to color my opinion of our new partnership.”

You thought you could see a hint of a smile on Vane’s face before he turned towards the door. He stopped before he opened it.

“If I find Billy Bones, I might kill him.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you won’t. We’ll see.”

He didn’t say anything else, just slipped out of your shop. You went over and did your best to lock the door again even though it had obviously been kicked open when Vane had snuck in before you got there.

Hopefully you made the right choice.

------

The morning sun had already started to heat the shop. You cursed under your breath as you moved the broom around the backroom, sweeping up the last of the damage from Rackham’s rampage as you had started to refer to it.

There were plenty of things broken, but not everything. Nothing that you would have trouble replacing at least.

A shadow passed over where you were sweeping. Startled, you looked up to see who it was.

Ah, this wasn’t a meeting you expected. Standing in the doorway to the backroom was Captain James Flint. His hair was partially tied back, clothes in order for a man who spent most of his time on the sea.

You thought he might have been in the Navy before… before Nassau, before his piracy days. Everyone had a life before, even the fearsome James Flint.

“Captain Flint,” you greeted as you continued to sweep up the broken bits of pottery on the floor. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

He took in the general disarray of the shop and then looked back at you.

“I’m looking for my boatswain.”

You nearly snapped the broom in half at that. You were getting really tired of people asking you where Billy Bones was.

“I’m sorry captain, I honestly have no clue. Last I saw him, he said he was going back to the beach.”

Flint nodded. He gestured around the room with one large hand.

“I doubt he did this.”

“Does it matter who did it? It’s been done and it must be fixed.” You looked down at the floor and then sighed. “Billy and the cook, Silver, did come here for shelter but once it became knowledge that The Ranger crew was aware of my connection to Billy, we decided it was best if they left. He told me to tell Vane and his men that he went to the interior, to someone named Mr. Blackwell.”

Flint’s eyes grew wide at that, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“Thank you Miss Y/L/N.”

So the name wasn’t just to confuse Vane; it was a code for the captain. Hopefully he would have better luck at finding the men than just about everyone else on the island had at this point.

Flint turned to start to leave but he hesitated at the door. His hand tapped once, twice, before he turned to face you again.

“Billy is sweet on you. He wouldn’t want to think of something happening to you because of him. I can… take you to the beach, put you on The Walrus until all of this is done. You’ll be safe there.”

You smiled and crossed into the store properly. With one hand on the counter, you looked around the store fondly.

“This is my home, Captain Flint. No danger will make me leave it. When you see Billy, tell him I said he’s a fool, but he’s not to blame for this.”

You could actually see the surprise and respect in Flint’s eyes at that. He gave you another nod and then opened the door. On the other side you saw Mr. Gates, the quartermaster. He gave you a quick nod before the two of them disappeared, heads together as they discussed what they now knew.

That Flint would offer to shelter you from danger on Billy’s behalf made you pause in your cleaning. The two of you were close and you did care for the man, but it wasn’t anything more than that for you. He was good company, surely, but you had never made any indication that you wanted more or that you felt more for him.

Hopefully the captain was speaking generally. Otherwise you might have to have a difficult conversation with Billy once things settled down.

------

The map had been located but in a turn of events that no one could’ve seen coming, it had been lost to the sea in the ensuing scuffle to retrieve it. The mere idea that this map which had been the cause of so many problems was gone without anyone able to salvage it was almost laughable.

And more than that, Silver and Billy hadn’t been able to decode the map before it had been lost.

Billy had come to see you once but it hadn’t been for more than an apology. He helped you lift some of the shelves that Rackham had torn down but he hadn’t even looked at the door that led to your rooms.

You weren’t mad at Billy for what happened. It might not have been a smooth transition, but it actually led to you having a growth in business. You and Vane had come to agreeable terms in your negotiations and both of you benefited greatly from the new business venture.

You’d be tempted to thank Billy if you didn’t think it would anger him beyond belief that you were in business with the man who had threatened to kill him.

Such was the life with pirates though. Threaten to kill you one day, work at your side the next. Your neck was still sensitive to the touch after the night Vane had visited you. You knew the feel of his hand on your throat but you also knew the feel of his hand in yours.

Money had a way of making other things seem insignificant.

And maybe the next time that Billy did make overtures towards you, you might think twice before you let him back into your bed. It was merely to protect your new business venture.

Permanent Tag List! @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @hxbbit @thepuffyeyedpuff @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @yessy2012 @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @holamor @lea----b @heyitslexy @coffeenmoscato @presstocontinue @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @sophiabulbu69 @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @mamaraptor@hot-and-spiceyyy @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @sergeantbuchanans @raquelbc2003 @iwishyoucouldbekissed @taman-a @newtstarmander @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @love-driah @arrowswithwifi @swiftyhowlz @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @celestegolden @king4thesirens @beautifuldesastre @ashkuuuu @luminex3 @nerdypinupcrystal @iblogabout-stuff @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @myplaceofheavenorhell @also-fangirlinsweden @traeumerinwitzhelden @binbons-is-theloml @lostinthoughts23 @aikeia @christinawxxx @dontlwtitbreakyourheart @rhabakoli @j-finco @sweetybuzz25 @supernaturalonice @jeanettexkillian @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @polireader @witchygagirl @carlaangel86 @listenbigfoot @hiddleless @meganlpie @arsaky-lou @angelic-kisses13 @countryday @random-quartz @peaceinourtime82 @outwicked @supernaturaldean67 @cafeconsoya @russosprettydiamondnow @yesixoxo

#charles vane #charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #charles vane fanfic #black sails imagine #my writing #trust is earned

97 notes · View notes

kaitycole · 4 years

Text

Mono a Mono

Summary: Liam arrives in Montana and takes a visit to the Walker Ranch

Word Count: 3484

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Jackson x Eleanor

Warnings: Mentions of violence, Mentions of character death, Mentions loss of a mother, Mentions of alcohol consumption

A/N: Just a reminder, here’s a link to my character profiles if you’re interested. You learn somethings about a few that won’t be written directly in the series: here.

Song Choice: n/a

Part 17 of WP. To catch up, read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bobasheebaby @bascmve01 @burnsoslow @the-everlasting-dream @ao719 @sirbeepsalot @janezillow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire @hopefulmoonobject @iaminlovewithtrr @cordonianroyalty @rafasgirl23415

“It would’ve been less suspicious if we had just picked Liam up!” Riley whines, anxiously bouncing up and down.

“But everyone knows he’s here.”

“Yeah, but…” she flops down on the nursey floor. Drake is trying to once again pick a paint color. They have it narrowed down to Heavy Goose, Moonshine and Gray Owl; all shades of gray that look exactly the same to Drake.

“Seriously? He’ll be here soon, you’re acting like a child.”

“I haven’t seen him in forever!” She huffs, crossing her arms across her chest.

“And if you don’t help pick a color, I’ll lock you in here until you do and it’ll be even longer until you can see him.”

Her jaw drops, “Drake Thomas Walker, you wouldn’t!”

“Two words: Try. Me.”

“Technically that’s four.” She sticks her tongue out at him.

He rolls his eyes, seriously contemplating locking her in the nursery. He just wants to get the room together and really doesn’t’ want to wait until the last minute, unlike Riley.

Riley’s head snaps up when she hears a car heading up their gravel, it’s not until there’s shuffling on the front deck that Drake starts towards the door. She tries to slip out of the door, but Drake takes a larger stride; locking her in the nursery.

Drake opens the door right as Liam has raised his fist to knock. Liam and Bastien are standing on the porch while a few other guards are scattered through the property. The friends stand there before pulling each other into a hug.

“It’s been a while.” Drake moves so Bastien and Liam can come inside.

“Thanks.” Liam looks around, it’s the first time he’s been in their home, “I like the farmhouse décor.” He takes in the nice blend of neutral colors mixed with wooden textures. The only reason he even knows as much as he does is because Riley sent him hundreds of photos and samples while choosing how to decorate.

“She spends more money trying to make half of the décor when she could buy it for less. She says it’s more authentic.”

Liam chuckles, “Speaking of, where is she?

They pick up on faint banging when Liam looks at him through furrowed brows.

“Second door on the right.”

Liam walks down the hall, skeptical. Riley isn’t one to do jump scares, but he’s still hesitant. When he opens the door, he finds a pouting Riley. When she looks up at him, she jumps into his arms; Liam stumbles back into the hallway.

“Drake locked me in here! He’s trying to keep us apart, Li!”

Liam gasps playfully, “Drake! How could you! Trying to keep my Riles from me!”

“He so effortlessly locks his pregnant wife in a room!”

Drake glares at them, “Honestly, you both are two halves of a whole idiot, you know that.”

Riley untangles herself from around Liam as he gently places her feet on the ground. Before they both ask, “But I’m your favorite idiot right!” at the same time.

Drake shares a look with Bastien who holds his hands up, staying out of it before they all walk into the living room.

* * Liam looks up at the ceiling as he lays on the guest room’s bed. He wouldn’t say that he’s nervous but there’s definitely a weight in his chest. He felt confident when he made the plans to come to the states, still felt confident when he got here, but now he feels the weight of the world.

He squints as the room slowly feels with the hallway light as the door opens.

“Li?”

“Riley?”

She sits on the edge of the bed, tapping his arm so he scoots over before she crawls in bed next to him. “You nervous?”

He gulps, he should be used to it now, but Riley has an uncanny ability to just know how he feels, know what’s going on with him. “I’m scared, stupid right?”

She leans her head on his shoulder, “I’d be scared too. This is uncharted territory for almost everyone.”

“I just don’t want to lose those good memories of my mom.” The words get stuck in his throat as he blinks away tears.

“You don’t have to.” She toys with her wedding band, “I mean, yeah you’re going to hear somethings you probably don’t want to, but it doesn’t change the memories you have. Those can’t be changed because whatever Jackson says can’t change that she actually loved you.”

“It’s just hard to feel that way knowing that she left.”

Without thinking, Riley does what she does best; saying exactly what pops in her head, “What if she didn’t want to leave?”

“Huh?”

“I’m just saying, all we know is that she left. We don’t know the why yet.”

“I…I guess…well I never thought about it that way.” He runs his hands through his hair, “I just immediately assumed it was because I wasn’t good enough for her to stay.” Riley sits up immediately and faces her best friend, “Liam Rys, King of Cordonia or not, if you ever think you aren’t good enough again I will punch you. How could you think that?”

“Because she left, Riles. One day she was there and then one day she wasn’t. Then I found out she got pregnant she picked that baby over me.”

“Maybe it’s wishful thinking,” she rubs her hand over her stomach, “but I find it hard to believe she didn’t do this to protect you. I know I’d do anything to protect my child.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom, ya know?”

“I can’t even pick out a paint color, what am I going to do when trying to figure out if they’re hungry or tired?” “I can’t help with that, but I can help you with paint colors.” He jumps out of the bed, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the nursery, “Okay. Pick a number one through three.”

“This is silly.” She looks at his pajamas, “Actually those pants are silly.”

He looks down, they were navy blue pants with apples on them, “They were a gift!”

She just gives him a side look, “Not a gag gift?” “Pick a number before I lock you in here.”

She lets out a breath, “Two.”

“Good choice. Baby Walker will be surrounded by,” he scans over the paint squares on the wall, “Gray Owl.”

“But,” she makes a face; unsure of the decision.

“Nope. It’s Gray Owl.”

Drake walks into the room, mid-yawn, “It’s after three in the morning. Do I even want to ask?”

“Riley picked a paint color.”

“She’ll just change it.” Drake shrugs.

“Not this time.” Liam smiles, sleep washing over him.

Riley smirks, if Liam could face his fears and the uncertainty that comes with tomorrow then surely, she could keep a paint color.

* * Liam and Drake pull up to Jackson’s ranch. Liam is already out the door before Drake has put the truck into park. He storms up the driveway and his blood began to boil when he sees Jackson walking down the stairs to meet them.

His pace increases and he can feel the anger as he stomps on the ground. Jackson has a hesitant smile on his face. He reaches his hand out to shake Liam’s just as Liam’s fists slams into Jackson’s jaw.

“Liam!”

Jackson stumbles backwards as his body reacts to the impact. Liam gives him zero change to recover before slugging him again and he’d have gone for a third if Drake hadn’t have pulled him back.

“Get off of me!” Liam shouts, his body radiates anger.

“Only if you’ll calm down.” Drake tugs him backwards once more, separating him and Jackson more.

“Fine!” Liam shrugs him off before running his hands through his blonde hair. He hadn’t planned on being physically aggressive towards Jackson. He wanted to be civil, he knew that’s what his mom would’ve wanted, but there was something about seeing his face that brought all his emotions to a head.

To him, Jackson was the man who ruined his family and Drake’s as well. While he was pissed that he lost his mom, Drake lost both of his parents and he would defend Drake his whole life.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, Drake.” Jackson rubs his jaw, “Though I always thought Leo would be the fighter, not you.”

“Because you know me so well, huh?”

“I get it, I understand.”

“Do you? You had to believe your mother died only to find out she ran off with the help!?”

“Liam, that’s my dad.”

“Drake. Let him get it out.”

“Get it out? What? You think I’m going to yell and then we’ll shake hands and swap stories of my mother?” Liam shouts, “Oh, wait! You have more than me.”

“I know that won’t happen. I didn’t expect it too. I can’t imagine how hard this is on you. I just want you to try to understand.” Jackson takes a step towards Liam.

“Understand what!? You’re talking as if you’re telling me that Santa isn’t real. How do you possibly expect me to understand?”

“Li, I know it seems hard to but I understand things, just hear him out.” Drake tries to mediate but to be honest, he’s not sure Liam is even listening. If he knew that Liam was going to be closed minded and violent, he wouldn’t have brought him here.

“It’s not the same for me as you Drake!”

“How? We both believed our parents were dead. Both found out they aren’t.”

“No, Drake, it’s not. Your dad isn’t really dead, but my mom is. I’m sorry if this seems harder for me to understand.” Liam shakes his head as he walks away from the Walkers. He needs space, air to breathe and he feels like he’s suffocating standing here.

Drake begins to walk after him, but Jackson puts his arm out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Let him go. He needs time.”

“But…”

“No, Drake. He’s right. This isn’t something you two can work through together right away.”

* * Liam finds himself sitting outside the barn. His idea to wear khakis wasn’t faring well; could a king even wear jeans? He should’ve stayed in Cordonia; coming here didn’t change anything or make anything better. Part of him thought Olivia would have stopped him, but he knew that he couldn’t depend on her to save him.

“Hey. You must be Liam.”

He looks up and freezes. Drake told him that Luke heavily resembled him, but seeing him in person made it uncanny.

“And you, Luke?”

Liam looks at Luke, they have a lot of shared features of his mother, their mother. But his eyes weren’t hers, they were signature Walker brown eyes. How could this person in front of Liam look so much like him, but make him feel so much anger?

Luke sat next to him, “I know this must be hard.”

“Oh, you do?” Liam spits at him. He didn’t mean to say it so rudely, but no one could understand how he felt.

“I lost her too.”

Liam whips his head to the side, looking at Luke. In all his anger, he never thought of that. Regardless of when, they both shared the loss of Eleanor. The loss of their mother.

Luke wipes a few tears away, “I couldn’t imagine losing her twice like you though.”

It has been years since Luke had spoken about his mother, Jackson always said she wouldn’t want them to dwell on the sadness of her passing, but the joyfulness of her life. Though he wouldn’t really talk about their memories with her either. He only lost her three year ago, but Liam lost her twenty years ago yet here he was crying while Liam remained stoic.

“What was,” Liam’s voice cracks, “was she like?”

“Like sunshine. If that makes sense.”

Liam smirks, he knew exactly what he means. The few memories he could remember clearly, that’s how she was, “It definitely makes sense.”

The two sat in silence, an awkward silence. The person next to them is a complete stranger yet someone they share a bond with. Liam isn’t ready to let his guard down, while they share a mother, he still wears the last name of the man Liam hates the most. But he trusted Drake and he was a Walker.

“Is it rude to say this is awkward?” Luke asks, unsure of what to really do.

Neither of them is sure of what to say. Luke went from being an only child to be the youngest of four while Liam went from being the youngest to the middle child. Or technically an only to the oldest. There was a lot they could talk about; their mother, their childhoods, who they are, but there was still uncharted territory between they that prevented it.

Although they weren’t speaking, there is something comforting about the exchange. Just sitting there next to someone who shares the one person you felt lost without. Luke goes to speak up when he sees someone rushes over to them and begins to panic.

“Your Majesty!” The figure says, standing just a few feet from Liam who seems unfazed.

Majesty? Where exactly is he from? Luke looks at his eldest brother confusingly.

“Yes, Bastien?”

“I turn around for one minute and you run off.” He is breathless, as if he had to run a far distance, “You act more and more like Leo some days.”

Liam smirks, “Oh, Bas. Don’t tempt me.” He looks over at Luke who looks more confused than he’s ever seen anyone look, “I’d like some time with Luke, can we have some privacy?”

Bastien just nods before walking off, but keeping a reasonable distance from the king.

“Why’d he call you ‘your majesty’? That’s a weird greeting.”

“I guess Jackson never told you.” Luke shakes his head and Liam rubs the back of his neck, “Well, uhm…I’m the king of the country that Jackson and Elea…mom, left from.”

Luke feels like he’s going to pass out, he feels dizzy and his face has paled. He had to be joking, right? A king? Seriously? They have those in more than just England? I really should’ve paid attention in history class.

“It’s a lot to take in.” Liam chuckles before Luke jumps up and drops down into a deep bow.

Liam feels a smile twitching on his lips before he starts laughing. Luke looks up confused at his brother’s reaction. Wasn’t this how you addressed kings and queens? Several moments pass before Liam has stopped laughing and if it wasn’t for the fact it was a genuine laugh, he might have felt bad.

“I’m so sorry. That was just so…” he taps his finger to his lip looking for the right word, “Adorable? Innocent?”

Luke stared at his brother, slightly confused that he had just been called adorable. “Did I do it wrong?”

He shakes his head, “Not at all, but you just don’t need to do it. Yes, I’m still a king, but I’m not here on royal or diplomatic business. This trip is a personal one, so please, just treat me like Liam.”

“And who exactly is Liam?”

“Well, I guess he’s your older brother.” Liam lets out a nervous chuckle, “I don’t really know what to say, this is new for me.”

Luke wrings his hands together, there is something that he wants to bring up, but he’s scared. He isn’t sure if it would be pushing too far, if he’d be overstepping a line and even though he’s just met his, he doesn’t want to lose him just yet.

“Something on your mind?” Liam cocks his head to the side, “I might not know you, but I do know people. That look is exactly the kind I see when diplomats wear when they want to address a topic. A topic I might not want to hear.”

“I don’t want to hate my mom, our mom, but it’s hard to still see her like I used to now. Since I know the truth,” he shrugs with a sigh.

Liam understands completely. Though looking back the way he handled the news wasn’t very mature, but he’s done a lot of thinking. He doesn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle, he hasn’t fully come to his own conclusion, but things are becoming more clearly to him.

Luke panics at his silence, “I’m so sorry. I know you must blame me…”

“Blame you?”

“If mom didn’t have me, she would’ve stayed with you.” He clears his throat, trying to mask that his voice is breaking.

“But I don’t.” Liam shrugs when Luke’s head snaps in his direction, “You, personally, didn’t make the decision. Mom and Jackson did.”

“I…wow…that means a lot.” Luke stands up, “I think I need to go process today.”

Liam stands up and nods as Luke walks off, leaving him staring at the ground. This is proving to be a lot harder than he thought, but at least now he knew he wasn’t so alone. Yeah, he had Drake and Riley, but Luke was different. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but with Luke he feels a sense of comfort he hasn’t felt since he mom left.

* * Riley peaks around the corner when she hears the door shut. She’s not surprised when she sees just Liam standing there; she had a strong feeling he’d come back alone. He takes off his shoes by the door before walking to the couch; flopping down with a sigh.

“I have a new bottle of scotch with your name on it.” She walks into the living room with the bottle along with a glass for him.

“Thanks, Riles.” He takes the bottle, opens it and takes a quick swig right from the bottle. Riley stares at him, mouth slightly opened.

“What? Not like you can drink any.” He smirks at her as she just rolls her eyes, sitting down next to him.

“Want to talk about it?” She sighs, she hates seeing the two most important people to her so hurt. This is a huge mess that she isn’t sure anyone can come out unharmed from. To make matters worse, Liam seems to be the one who continuously comes out empty-handed at the end of the day: lost his mom, died dad, found out mom wasn’t dead only to learn she is actually dead now.

“After say,” he pretends to look at his watch, “a few more big swigs.” He tries to laugh, but can’t.

She’s looking at her best friend when she notices his right hand is red, “What’s up with that?”

“Can I get in a few more sips?” He tries to dodge the topic as Riley goes into the kitchen, coming back with a cloth filled with ice.

“Talk.”

“I punched him.” He winces a tad as she presses the ice to his knuckles, “Jackson, that is.”

Riley could say that she is surprised, but she’s not. Honestly, that had been her first reaction too. The way Jackson effortless recounted the story of how he met Bianca, how things were with him and Eleanor, he said it all as if somehow, he was the white knight. As if Constantine and Bianca had gotten in their way to prevent them from being together. It didn’t sit right with Riley.

“I’ll apologize tomorrow.” “I wouldn’t.”

“Riley! That is your father in law.”

She snorts, “Don’t remind me.” Liam raises his eyebrows, “Spill it.”

She lets out a deep breath and tell him how she wasn’t immediately supportive of the idea Drake had seen Jackson. And how now she isn’t sure it’s a great idea to just jump into things. How she understands he wants to get to know dad, but wishes he was more skeptical because who knows what all Jackson is going to say and how that will shift what Drake thinks of him.

“I think I’m ready to talk about it now.” Liam holds up the bottle, now only two-thirds full.

“Then let’s talk about it.”

“I thought I could handle seeing him. That I’d be able to come here and get the answers I’ve been wanting. Then I saw his face and this rage built up, all I could think about was how I grew up without my mom and he got her. He got all those memories that I missed out and I snapped.” He takes another sip of the scotch before shaking his head.

Riley gives him a sympathetic smile, gently placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“But then,” he chuckles, “I met Luke and it might’ve been weird at first, but he’s actually not that bad.”

“Well duh, he’s related to you.” She playfully nudges his shoulder, “Maybe since you aren’t ready to talk to Jackson, you can talk more to Luke tomorrow.”

Liam nods, “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

37 notes · View notes