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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Failed, Faked, Fallen - Harry Styles

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

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

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

word count: 16.6k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oliver: Be there in 3. Meet me outside?

Y/N: Sure!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How new?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N is not a fan of double dates.”

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

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

“Wait, you two are… dating?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

“Harry, everyone knows it.”

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

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

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

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

“Like, a real couple?”

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

“We barely know each other.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here,” he smiles warmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Weren’t planning to.”

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

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

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

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

“Really? And what did you tell them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning. How was your weekend?”

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

“Sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How come?”

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

“You never even tried to tell him?”

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

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

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

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

“She’s still in love with you?”

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

“I’m sorry about that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Harry?” Oliver questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!”

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

“How would you know if I disliked PDA?”

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

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

“You told me,” he simply answers.

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“Wait, what? Did you two…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just got here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sometimes. They have great fries.”

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

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

“For what exactly?”

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

“You think it would bother him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two are like glued together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re friends,” you tell her again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to see me fall?”

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

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

“The tiniest one,” he chuckles nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t smile?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cool. Bring your roommate if you want.”

“Sure,” you smile.

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

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

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

“Are you guys like… really together?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you chuckle.

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

“That would be nice,” she nods happily.

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

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

“You think so?”

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

“What if it’s just his normal?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t fucking care, knock!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi again,” he smirks with glistening eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?” you simply question.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Text

Cheeky

jack grealish x reader

prompt request; you're talking on the phone and your lover quietly comes up behind you, wraps their arms around you, and starts gently kissing your neck. you begin to lose focus on your phone call as you concentrate on not making any noise.

its a little bit smutty - 18+

Jack likes to think he's a fairly patient man. He kind of has to be. If he gets any more than irked when his team are down a goal then he'd lose his head a little and they certainly wouldn't make up that goal if he couldn't keep his cool. It wasn't something he was born with so much as something that was trained into him through time and good coaching from his youth days through to now, as captain.

His patience with you is tenfold. That man grew up with three women in his life. It felt like half of all his dad ever said was "Just be patient Jack, the girls aren't ready yet." when he was young, bouncing on his heels at the door desperately waiting to go out with his family and his mother could more often than not be heard saying "Patience is a virtue, Jack." So he liked to think it was something he was relatively good at when it came to both his game and his girlfriend. Though you might inclined to suggest a little bit differently.

Today had been one of those days where he got to have a lie in, eyes softly shut, chest rising and falling rhythmically with his hair strewn out in all angles well into the early hours of the afternoon. His sleep was very satisfying and the long lie much needed, but he would have preferred to have woken up with you still there next to him when his eyes finally peeled open to an empty bed.

You had gone out, as you told in a text message sent to his phone half an hour ago knowing he would wake up and see it. When he texted back to ask where, he didn't get a response until you walked through the door again with a coffee for him and two muffins in a brown bag. You'd gone out for brunch with a friend thinking that you'd be back before he woke up but she had talked for longer than you anticipated and then you got stuck in the afternoon traffic. The muffin and the coffee were your way of saying sorry you weren't there when he woke and served as the perfect temporary fix for his grumbling belly.

A lot of the rest of your day was spent working, which pissed you off to no end. The one day Jack had to spend, you of course could not escape university for. "Last two weeks and then I'm all yours," you'd assured him, "Well, 'till I can get a job and work for the rest of my life to pay off those stupid loans. Lovely." You had a bit of a habit of being a bit less optimistic when you were stressed and Jack could very well see that was the case today. He knew you'd enjoyed uni, but you and every other student in the world would hate that last few weeks with the scramble to submit projects and clean up shop before graduation.

"I told you not to take out loans, baby," He had cooed earlier in the day as he stood behind your desk in one of the spare rooms, messaging your shoulders, "I have plenty for the two of us, you know it."

His words were sweet, genuinely. Muffled by your hair as he pressed his lips down onto the crown of your head. But you laugh softly at him with a shake of your head. "Don't start with that, Grealish."

He had laughed at your retort and left you alone to work again until dinner which he of course did not make because all that Jack can make is pot noodles or toast and cheese. Neither of those things had tickled either of your fancies, so it was takeaway delivered straight to the door that had you all but floating down the stairs when the smell wafted up.

Jack knew what he had in mind for after dinner. Something that both he and you would equally enjoy that would be very de-stressing for you too. That very enjoyable thing did not include you being on a three way messenger call with two of your closest friends from uni gossiping and talking about coursework while you finished wiping up the kitchen.

That's where Jack's patience appeared to come into play once more.

One might say he had been incredibly patient. He waited all day without trying to bother or pester you while you were working like he usually might and then he waited through dinner, waiting with the TV paused when you promised you'd only be five minutes wiping down the kitchen counters and doing the dishes.

And then he heard that god forsaken phone ring and his head tipped back onto the back of the couch with a silent groan. Then he waited another short while listening to you on the phone, not much involved in the conversational aspect than you were the reacting to the story.

The sight of you made him groan again when he walked into the kitchen after hearing a few moments of silence on your end, thinking that you might've finished the phone call. He was dead wrong, you were still stood with the phone help up to your ear as you looked out the kitchen window into the garden in apparent thought. You stop Jack walking up behind you in the reflection of the window.

He wraps his arms around your waist slowly, resting his chin on your shoulder with his head against yours. You lay the phone down on the counter with your friend continuing to tell the story about her boyfriend while you turned your head to look at your own pouting man. "Sorry baby," you coo softly, "Her and Will got into this messy fight and I-oh"

Your whispered words die on your tongue when you feel his move to your neck. Instinctively, you want to push him away but the feeling of his lips, soft and cold from the ice water he'd just been drinking, moving up the nape of your warm neck if just too good for even begin to swat at. "Give me two minutes to end the call," you murmur as quietly as you can manage into his ear, but you just feel a the gently grunt of his disagreement. "No no baby, you finish that call. I'll be right here."

"But Jack- fuck-"

"Better not let them hear you, baby." He lulls softly into your ear.

"You still there (y/n)."

You almost yelp in fright at the sudden call of your name through the phone. Of course you knew the call was still on but the speaking had completely gone blank to your ears, one of which Jack currently had his teeth nibbling at. "Sorry!" You chime, voice shaky, "I lost you guys for a bit there I was," you have to take pause to release a heavy breath in both an attempt to steady your voice and to expel the pleasure building up through your body as his kisses continue over you, "Moving room. Back now though."

"Are you alright?" One asks in genuine concern. You'll need to do a better job to keep quiet. "Yeah course. Sorry, continue."

They do just that, enveloping back into a conversation that is completely lost on your mind. Jack's hands are under your top, your bra long dropped to the floor. He can see your open mouthed, eyebrow furrowed look of pleasure in the reflection of the mirror as he moved his thigh carefully and slowly between your legs, rhythmically. "Ah ah ahhh," he tuts in your ear lowly, "quite baby, shhhh."

The feeling of his hard on pressing into your ass only fuels the fire burning in the core of your belly with each squeeze and knead of your breasts. He knows exactly what he's doing with the flexing and loosening of his huge thigh muscles pressed into you. You quite literally couldn't catch the moan that tumbled out of your lips with the friction he had created with his leg as he continued those precision targeted kisses leaving marks over your neck.

Both of your friends freeze and Jack is paused in all his movements as you clamp your mouth shut.

"Ouch?" Jack groans, biting down on his lip as he looks at you. His attempt to play off your sound only elicits more silence. "Jack's just stubbed his toe." You announce in an unceremoniously high pitch with an incredibly, almost unheard-of nervous laughter to follow while Jack tries with everything he has not to burst into laughter. "Gotta go, call you back tomorrow!" You yelp out, grabbing your phone from the counter with a frantic hand, "Those feet pay the bills after all!"

Neither of your friends get in a word in before your fingers have hit the big reg end button and turned towards the now very sly looking footballer standing so close that you can still feel the heat radiating off him, that thigh attempting to creep its way back in between yours.

"I'm so going to get you back for that." You warn. He sniggers.

"You will, will you?" He teases with a smirk, jutting his tongue out over his lips.

"Yeah," you say firmly, taking a step closer to him to wedge yourself back into the pleasureful position. "Not fucking today though, Jack. You'll finish what you started today."

He is very happy to accept his marching order, hoisting you up onto his arms with your legs tight around his waist as he immediately moves to set you on the kitchen counter.

"Not a problem, baby."

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish smut

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jaybird-redhood · 3 years

Text

propinquity

wc: 2.2k

pairing: jason todd // gn reader

The first thing you think when you see him for the first time is that he has the cutest smile.

That’s a lie, the first thing you think it that he is so incredibly in shape, and it looks great on him, but the smile thing sounds better in your head.

He's moving into the apartment across from yours a month after you moved into yours. Weird, because the two people in your building closest to your age are 2 and 63, respectively.

You suppose that some wicked twist of fate must’ve brought this upon you for missing your cousin’s birthday party last week, because the guy standing across from you is crazy hot. And looking right at you. And you are in the huge neon Wonder Woman t-shirt that your best friend got for your birthday last year.

Yeah. Karma.

“Nice shirt,” the guy offers, holding in a grin. “You’re really making it work.”

“I-”

“See you around, neighbor.”

And with a shut of a door and an awfully charismatic smirk he’s gone.

The next time you see him is a week later, and this time- luckily, you think- you’re dressed somewhat put together. You run into him while unlocking your door.

"What's got you in a twist?" he asks.

"Um," you start, "I just. Ugh I have so much to do. Like 3 hours of homework, a lecture tomorrow that I cannot skip, and I'm completely out of bread and eggs and can't even you to the store until, like, Thursday at best."

Once you start rambling you can't seem to stop. You slouch against your door. You're not entirely sure why you're telling a stranger all this, but he seems to be listening, so you suppose that’s a good sign

"I get the feeling," he offers, and you look up at him. "I'm majoring in English Lit and my classes are kind of kicking my ass."

You give him a small smile, "Glad to know someone in this building is struggling as much as I am."

"Jason," he says, and he reaches his hand out to you. "My name."

You shake it and tell him yours.

As you both turn back into your respective apartments you think that he maybe isn't as intimidating as you thought.

The next day goes by with a really boring lecture and another 3 hours of work you need to do.

The ride home from uni isn't that long, but it's long enough for you to contemplate all the ways that your life went wrong after moving to Gotham. And, maybe as payback for thinking mean things about the city, rain that you think should belong to a category 3 hurricane starts to whip around your car 10 minutes into your drive.

Your clothes are dripping water in literal puddles by the time you get back to your apartment.

Groaning, you start fishing for your keys in your purse while walking up the last flight of stairs.

When you get to your door you stop. Right in front of it there’s a grocery bag. Picking it up and looking inside you see a loaf of bread and a small carton of milk.

You pick it up smiling.

“Jason?” you ask, knocking on his door.

No response.

You shrug and turn around. Remember to thank him the next time you run into each other; you think.

That next time doesn’t happen to be that long and thank goodness for you.

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this,” he says to you.

You’re sitting on the floor outside of your door looking rather pathetic, and he’s giving you the most awful smirk you’ve ever seen. (Not that it looks bad on him though. You seem to think that nothing could really look that bad on him)

“I swear I’m usually more put together than this,” you sigh to him. “You moving here jinxed me!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re locked out, aren’t you?”

You give him your best withering I’m going to kill you stare, but it must not be working because he just laughs even harder at you.

“This is completely not my fault it’s just I lost my second set of keys like right when I moved in and then today when I got home, I accidentally left them in my car, but my second set of car keys is in my apartment so now I can’t get them out, stop laughing at me!”

“God you’re a mess,” Jason says- finally finished laughing at you and maybe taking a bit of pity on how disheveled you look. “You couldn’t call anyone to get you in?”

You shake your head.

“My friend is the only other person with a set, but they’re out of town, and our landlord is being a dick and telling me it’s my fault in the first place, so I need to deal with it. I’ve been sitting out here for like an hour.”

“All I’m hearing is that it is your fault and now you’re just moping about it feeling bad about yourself.”

You tilt your head against the door so hard that it makes you wince a bit.

“Ok fine,” he says crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Wait right here.”

He goes into his apartment and comes back out with a skinny metal thing you don’t recognize.

You look at him in confusion and he just motions for you to scoot out of the way as he sticks it in your locks and starts to pick it.

You sigh in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you. For everything. I swear I will get my life together, so you don’t feel like you have to keep cleaning up my messes.

“I don’t mind,” he says with a small smile, “Take your time.”

And with that he opens the door to your apartment and turns back to his.

“By the way, you should really get better locks. That was way too easy.”

You make a note in your head to get that done sometime. As you’re lying on your couch that night, you’re AirDropped a photo on your phone. Saving it up you see it’s a piece of paper with neat handwriting on it: a phone number and a smiley face, Jason’s name at the bottom.

You smile too and add the number to your contacts.

Over the next few weeks, you and Jason start talking more, both over text and through the various times when you run into each other outside your doors.

Each interaction is better than the next, and you soon start to realize that Jason isn’t just some hot guy with no brains. He’s sweet and charismatic, has a whole wall full of bookshelves, could probably quote any classical novel by heart, has incredibly good taste in music, and best (or worst) of all, would make incredible friend material.

It’s just that as you become closer friends, you start to realize that that might not be all you want.

It’s a stupidly cold Friday morning when he texts you, and you’re covered in blankets and wrapped in sweatshirts in your bed. Movie at my place tonight?

You text back your approval and a quick be there at 6 before getting ready for classes.

The day goes by slower than you hoped.

It might be the anticipation of seeing Jason again, or more likely the hours of lectures you have to sit through, but you’re elated when your final class for the day gets let out.

The hours in between are a blur.

A blur which leads to the two of you sitting on his couch watching Romeo and Juliet together, a blanket thrown over your bodies.

You have the obligatory bowl of popcorn resting on your legs, and every few minutes Jason reaches across your lap to take a handful.

The way you’re laying half on top on him is completely deliberate, as to take as much of his body heat as possible. Your landlord had turned off heating 3 weeks prior to ‘save money’ or some other bullshit.

Jason’s not complaining though.

Once your popcorn bowl is finished and your head is in his lap, he runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly. It might be the nicest feeling you’ve ever felt.

Throughout the movie you exchange snide comments about the plot back and forth. You start trying to say funny things whenever you can just to hear how sweet his laugh sounds to your ears.

By the end of the movie, you’re only slightly in tears, or so you tell yourself.

“Are you crying right now?” Jason asks incredulously, wearing a teasing smile.

“It’s not my fault,” you half say half moan, “Leonardo DiCaprio just has that effect on me.”

He just laughs and pulls you upright until you’re sitting on his lap.

His eyes are a shade of blue green that you’ve never seen before, although you could swear their getting greener by the second.

You watch his gaze drop down to your lips before staring you right in the eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God yes,” you tell him, and kiss him right back.

The next week is somewhat uneventful, even though you and Jason had been meeting each other almost every night, rotating apartments based on whose house was warmer each particular night.

Tonight is your night, and you’ve been waiting the whole day to show him the film you had rented to watch together.

The walk up to your door is easier than usual, and you have a bounce in your step that’s making you feel even more elated than normal taking out your keys to unlock your apartment.

You open your door and your bag drops. The keys clatter when they hit the hardwood, and the silence that follows is deafening.

“You’re bleeding on my carpet,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

There Jason is, bleeding quite profusely, and using your kitchen counter to keep himself vertical. He’s wearing what looks to be a torn half of a domino mask and an extremely hot leather jacket.

(Not that this was the time for noticing his fashion choices, but you filed that thought away for later.)

What really catches your eye though is the huge red bat symbol on his chest, and the red helmet next to it sitting on your counter.

He shifts a little to the side before stumbling through saying, “Um, so, I know this isn’t ideal and I’m really sorry to put you in this situation, but I seriously do not feel like bleeding out tonight and-”

“Oh my god this is great,” you cut him off with. “I thought you were a hit-man!”

“Wait what.”

“Shit no that’s not what I meant- kind of, hang on we should probably stop you from dying before having this conversation.”

You walk over to him to get a better look at his wounds.

“God Jace, you look like death warmed over.”

He just stares at you.

“You have a bunch of stuff in your bathroom, right?”

At least this elicits a reaction. He grimaces in pain but gives you a nod of his head in conformation.

“Ok I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

He gives you a look that says seriously, where would I go.

3 minutes later you’re back with a needle and thread, and some sterilizing spray.

“This should be fine,” you tell him, “I took a first aid class last year with my friends and passed with flying colors according to the nurse.”

“Just try to keep them tight and neat. I trust you,” he says, and your heart pounds just a little harder.

You respond with a nervous laugh but take a deep breath and start working.

An hour and a half later you’re done.

The combination of pain meds, bandages, and a whole lot of stitches eventually led to you and Jason laying in your bed together, both completely exhausted.

He turns his head to face you.

“Could we maybe go back to the hit-man thing?”

“Oh uh. Well I saw a bunch of shirts covered in blood in your laundry in the bathroom, not to mention all the weirdly specific first-aid you had,” you tell him.

“And also the assorted guns and knives you have hidden all over. I guess I just assumed? But the whole Red Hood thing is so much better,” you reassure him.

“You found all my knives?”

You smile up at him.

“I love that that’s thing you chose to focus on.”

“And you’re really not mad that I didn’t tell you about the whole vigilante thing before?” he asks.

“Jay, I had already resigned myself to life forever with some shady hit-man that also happened to be incredibly good looking. Red Hood is ten times better than that. I’m not going to run away from you just because you’re incredibly intimidating and probably could kill me. I see that as an added bonus,” you say, with as much charm as you can muster without yawning.

“Just. Be careful, ok? I’d hate to make this a routine.”

He responds by pulling you closer to his body.

“I promise,” he whispers into your head. “You really to remember to get better locks by the way, breaking in was still way too easy.”

You let out a small laugh and finally you let yourself give into sleep.

#luce writes #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd #red hood #dc

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celestialrry · 3 years

Text

a little jealousy never hurt anybody, right?

6.7k

HIIHIHI this was requested by the lovely @angelsuestyles (their ask is in my recent posts!) ALSOOOO THANK YOU FOR 222 BILLION FOLLOWERS (∩˃o˂∩)♡ (not really but 222 :0 !!! I love all of you guys!! thank you, it literally means so much to me <<<<<333333)

edit: I forgot to put this in here when I first posted but this IN NO WAY is hating on Camille at all (she's literally so hot PLS! she just inspired harry’s 2nd album so she worked for the story) and you guys shouldn’t hate on her either!!!

summary: Y/N and Harry are idiots.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and illusions to a boner ¨̮ ( I think that’s it...)

Y/N regrets quite a few things.

Like that time when she took her senior photo and didn’t realize the small bit of concealer she had blended under her eyes would flash back so much. Or when she was being introduced to a set of twins and even though she had been completely sober that night, accidentally ended up kissing the both of them, not realizing who was who (she didn’t even remember who she wanted to kiss in the first place). And of course, she regrets somehow being able to put a check in one of those super specific love-cliche boxes.

It really wasn’t her fault for falling for Harry. How could she not? Ever since he asked her to join him on his sophomore tour after she played some guitar for his album, she knew there was no way to crawl out of the hole that had just been dug. All thanks to her her friend Sarah, who introduced the two at her intimate birthday party, just months before Harry started producing and writing for Fine Line.

When an “Oh, shit! You’ll have t’show me sometime!” erupted from Harry after Sarah mentioned Y/N played guitar and even partnered with Mitch on a few projects of his own (that unfortunately, not even after Y/N’s begging, would never be released to the world), Y/N was sure that she would never end up showing Harry, and he was just being sweet. But when a few days later, Harry texted her explaining how he got her number from Sarah and asking if she could get together so he could hear her play, Y/N realized he had been serious, and well, the rest was history.

Harry had insisted she play for a track, then one became a few, then a few became practically the entire album, and soon Harry was talking about how “sick” it would be if she went on tour with them, and after arranging things with her uni and taking a leave from her job, she was ready.

Tour had no shortage of interesting moments, from the time Harry almost broke his ankle during rehearsal and tripping on the microphone wire (why he insisted it have a wire, Y/N had no idea) to Mitch getting really drunk after one show and blabbering on and on about British culture and how different it was from American culture, and YN was sure she’d never seen or heard him talk this much, but no one was complaining.

Y/N had found some sort of companionship in everyone on tour. Sarah had always been like a big sister to her, and the protective instinct really kicked in when they were in a different country, Y/N noticed. Charlotte was pretty new, just like Y/N was and they bonded quite fast over that, and their love for fashion they could never afford. Adam was more open and bubbly, and he took Y/N in like one of his own kids. She truly didn’t think being 23 was so different than everyone else being in their late 20′s and early 30′s but after being treated like a fragile puppy, she noticed that no one else felt the same as her-- she really wasn’t complaining though, it just meant she had all eyes looking out for her, and she kind of needed that to be honest.

Mitch practically became her older brother, and although he was a bit closed off and shy when they first met (which was a few weeks before Y/N met Harry) eventually he was joking around with just her, and teaching her new things on the electric guitar she hadn’t known before.

Finally, Harry. It would be an understatement to say Y/N and Harry got really close, really fast. He was always really good at making friends, but with Y/N it seemed they became great friends in a heartbeat. He opened up about almost everything, fame, missing home, his heartbreaks, his accomplishments, and everything in-between. Y/N did the same, told him how paying for uni was an absolute bitch (to which he offered to pay and she immediately turned him down), how her parent’s divorce impacted her own relationships (Harry had nodded in agreement with that), and about how being on this tour changed her life. By week 2 of tour, the two had become so close, even the fans had picked up on it just during their banter and contact during shows.

“They’re ‘shipping’ you guys,” Mitch had said, taking a sip of water backstage as everyone was gathered in the band’s dressing room. Harry was still getting dressed and ready, so it was everyone but him. “It’s quite cute, honestly.”

Y/N’s brow raised in confusion. “What- why? We act normal like we always do.” She pointed out, firm in her statement. A snort from Charlotte made Y/N turn her head to the strawberry-blonde and gape. “What? Do we- do we not act normal?” She asked, looking around at everyone, now flushing out of embarrassment. “You two act like you’re dating sometimes, love,” Sarah pointed out. “It’s nothing to worry about though, he’s just really affectionate, friends or partners, and we can tell you do too, so it’s inevitable that someone will mistake you guys for a couple.”

“Mistake who for a couple?” A familiar voice asked, and everyone’s gaze wandered over to the door where Harry had walked in with his billowing dress shirt, and dress pants for the night. “You and Y/N.” Adam said, and Y/N’s head had snapped towards him to give him a death stare, but before her eyes could burn into his skull, her attention was dragged away by an arm draping across her shoulders and the dip of the couch next to her. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a soft smiled before squeezing her shoulder with his hand. “Makes sense, s’like we’re practically married.”

“I’m waiting on a proposal.” Y/N said with a grin, and Harry smirked, pulling her in closer towards his body. “You’ll get one soon, pet, don’t worry.” The conversation had then shifted to Mitch and Sarah who were literally work-wife and husband, not yet anyways, but everyone knew he would ask her soon enough. Y/N always like this before shows, happy. Not that preforming and the adrenaline rush afterwards wasn’t enough, but everyone was always together, and she liked that a lot.

She also liked how Harry’s arm had slid down from her shoulders to her waist and how his fingers splayed across her hip, how they gently squeezed, and how his thumb mindlessly ran up down across her skin. It wasn’t an overstatement to say that stayed on her mind the entire night.

。:°ஐ

Harry was always positively buzzing after a show. His narcissistic side loved it when everyone’s attention was on him for hours at a time, screaming his name and shouting their declarations of love. He loved to be told how talented he was, how handsome he was, and how funny he was, it was safe to say he had a bit of a praise kink, if he’s being honest. But if it was even possible, he loved hearing it all from Y/N even more than the thousands of people in the crowd. He told himself many times that it was just because she cared about him, and he cared about her, and hearing praise from someone he knows and respects (not that he didn’t respect his fans) was just so much more fulfilling.

So after every show when he’d rush offstage with he rest of his band, his attention always went to Y/N, waiting for her praise, and he always got it. He, of course, complimented her back, and watching her smile was more than enough to keep him happy the rest of the night. This night had gone the same as all the others, an amazing show, running offstage, and hugs and kisses being thrown around like a beach ball at a rave. “That was awesome H, your whale seems to get better every time.” Y/N had commented, and he had attempted helplessly to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I’ve just got strong lungs, pet. Could never compare to your guitar playing though, the real star of the show. Don’t tell Mitch I said that.”

She waved off his compliment and laughed, pulling him into a soft hug with a soft kiss on the cheek that he was still thinking about when they made their way to a bar for the night. He couldn’t take it off of his mind, not even when there was a pretty blonde in front of him, her hand running flirtatiously over his arm and her smile as blinding as the sun had been earlier.

Of course she was pretty, there was no way to deny it, she just wasn’t as pretty as Y/N. No one was, not after he’d laid eyes on her and began using her beauty to determine everyone else’s attractiveness.

So when his attention from the woman in front of him fades, he’s looking around for the familiar face that he can’t enough of. He meets Y/N’s eyes and immediately her own dart back to Charlotte, biting the inside of her cheek and praying he didn’t catch her staring at him with envy.

Envy of the girl in front of him, who go to express her attraction towards Harry without hiding it, and not worrying about if he feels the same way or not, because of course he finds the girl in front of him attractive, who wouldn’t?

It’s then, that Y/N starts to pity herself, physically and romantically. The partners she’s had before always seemed way too good for her, and she had never been the one to end it. To say that destroyed her self-confidence in the long run would be an understatement.

It wasn’t like she needed a partner to make her confident, no, she was perfectly capable of doing that on her own, but for the first time in a long, long time, Harry made Y/N feel really good about herself. Good about her personality, her humor, everything, because if someone she looked up to that much, if a man like Harry Styles wants to be friends with her? She thinks it just meant she was doing everything right.

So Y/N, in short, was jealous. So jealous and wound up by Harry showing attraction towards that girl, that everyone else seemed to notice she was a bit off. “Y/N, you okay?” Mitch asked from across the booth, his thick brows twisted in concern. “Hm?” She looked up from the wooden table beneath her to see everyone, sans Harry, looking at her with the most pitiful eyes she had ever seen, and god, did she feel disgusted. Disgusted that she had fallen so hard for a man she could never have, that everyone around her noticed and felt bad for her.

“I’m fine, but I think m’gonna call it a night. I’m pretty tired after today’s show.” She said with a tight-lipped smile, hoping it would convince everyone that she was okay. Of course it didn’t though and Adam caught on. “Funny, I was about to say the same. I can’t stay up late like I used to anymore, wanna catch a taxi back?” He asked, and Y/N nodded with a real smile this time, albeit the fact it was small, because she really didn’t want to go back to the hotel alone, and Adam always knew what to say.

Sarah and Mitch slid out of the booth to let Adam out, and Y/N simply stood up on her side because she had the outside seat. Harry was supposed to sit next to her on the edge, but seeing as he went to the bar to grab everyone another round and then ended up talking to someone else, that didn’t happen. She slipped on her light beige coat and grabbed her purse, slinging it on her shoulder as Adam put on his jacket as well. When Y/N looked to the bar where she had last seen Harry, he was still standing there animately talking to the woman in front of him, dimples prominent in his rosy cheeks, and all she could do was hope he didn’t notice the two of them slip out as they made their way to the door.

Alas, Y/N could never be that lucky.

“Hey! Where are y’guys going?”

Y/N and Adam turned around at the sound of his voice and that was when Adam went in full protective mode, slinging his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulling her in closer. She made a note in her head to thank him immensely when they escaped this bar.

“Heading out for the night, we’re both pretty pooped.” Adam explained, eyes darting from Y/N to Harry who now stood in front of them, his own eyes darting from Y/N to Adam then back to the girl who was now avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh, alright then. Are- Y/N are you okay?” He asked softly and only then did her eyes meet his own. “Yes, I’m fine. I feel like such a baby when I’m around you guys.” She joked, her lips curling into a small smile.

Adam chuckled at that and so did Harry, but Y/N could tell the curly headed one was still concerned. “Well we gotta catch a cab, so…” She trailed off, her thumb poking back to the door.

“O-okay,” Harry nodded. “Get back safe, yeah? Have a good night.” He said in parting and Y/N and Adam both nodded, wishing him the same before turning back around and pushing through the door. Harry watched the two of them leave, and his stomach bounced around in an odd way.

The cold air whipped across the duo’s faces, and and Adam rubbed Y/N’s shoulder comfortingly as he hailed a cab. They didn’t talk until they were settled in the back and Adam told the driver the destination. “Wanna tell me what’s up? Cause I’m not gonna bother you anymore when we get to the hotel.”

She smiled at him and scoffed a bit before trilling her lips, a soft noise releasing from her mouth at the movement. “Um,” She began, running her hands through her hair. “I’m pretty sure you already know.”

At her words, Adam just raised a brow at her. “What? You guys all looked at me like someone just killed my puppy back there!” She defended, raising her hands. “Okay, fine, fine. It won’t help if you keep all your emotions bottled in though, you know?”

“Yeah,” She sighed. “I know.”

After getting back up to her room, doing her nightly routine (which really was just her washing her face, brushing her teeth, and changing into the t-shirt Harry gave her a few weeks ago and her Spongebob decorated fluffy pajama shorts that she got in college as a joke but really ended up being her favorite item of clothing she owned, other than Harry’s shirt, of course) she slipped into bed and began scrolling on her phone.

Only what felt like 15 minutes later, a knock on her door broke Y/N out of the trance she was in and she sighed a bit, pulling the covers back and grumbling as she made her way to the door, annoyed at whoever was behind it-oh.

Harry looked at her as she swung the door open for him and he immediately grinned. “Hi, love.”She could never stay mad at him. “Hey, H.” She smiled at him, still a bit confused. “What’s up?” He ran a hand thorough his hair and retained eye contact with her, before speaking.

“Sleepover?”

She nodded and let him in, and immediately he went to her suitcase without a word, pulling out some her biggest sweatpants and stripping to his boxers, slipping the joggers on and keeping his shirt off. Y/N suddenly was reminded of all of Harry’s tattoos she knew none of the meanings behind.

Sleepovers were common with the two of them, and they always occurred in Harry’s suite, Y/N on the way too comfortable couch, and Harry guiltily on the bed even though she insisted she take the couch because “We can’t have your back hurting when you preform!” And he couldn’t say no when she also said “Please?” and looked at him with those soft eyes.

So now it was a bit different, being in her room, because 1, there was only one bed that they would both consequently end up sleeping on, and 2, Y/N and Harry’s feelings had both developed a bit further than friendly (although neither knew about the other’s).

She hesitantly crawled back into her bed and patted at the area right beside her, which Harry quickly traveled over to, lifting his side of the comforter and pulling it over the both of them while Y/N leaned over to the night-stand and grabbed the T.V. remote. She plopped back into the pillows and started scrolling through random channels, trying to find a decent movie for the two of them to fall asleep to.

All the while, Harry was attempting to look at the T.V. but the light was shining on her face in a way that just made her look so pretty, not that she wasn’t always pretty, but she seemed to always look the best when she was in her natural state, no makeup, no nice clothes, it was just all so domestic and the feeling overwhelmed him when he realized he wanted to be the one to see her like this every night.

Her eyes darted from the T.V. over to her right where Harry was curled up in the covers, and she could feel the burn of his eyes on her. Now that really didn’t help with her insecurities, and as she continued switching through the channels she found herself burying under the covers more and more. Soon, she landed on a stupid rom-com that she’s seen a few times before but she never really knows what it’s about because her attention gets easily dragged away from it.

She puts the remote back on the table and flips back around to be face to face with Harry, who was now looking at her with furrowed brows. “Why’re you burying yourself under the covers?” He asked with a frown, and she lulled her head away from him then back, biting the inside of her cheek. “M’just a bit cold.”

His brows raised because he knew full well it wasn’t cold at all in this room, in fact it was quite hot, but he didn’t want to deal with her lying and thinking she could get away with it, so he pulled the covers off of himself, which actually cooled him off a good amount and piled them all on top of her. “Hey!” She cried out, muffled by the fabric on top of her. “M’hot, so I figured you could have my covers.”

He heard a bit of grumbling and the covers were flung off of the bed entirely in a few seconds, Y/N sitting up and leaning on her arms breathing a bit heavy and turning to Harry with a stink in her eye. He just flashed his signature cheeky grin and she grabbed her pillow and hit him over the head before placing it back and pulling the sheets over her body.

“Ow! You fucker.”

。:°ஐ

Harry was sure about a lot of the things he did.

Like when One Direction split up, he didn’t remain in constant contact with the boys, and while it was difficult at first, they all needed a break, and it just made it so much better when they met up to hang out again. Or when him and Camille both decided it was for the best that they break up and they remain friends to this day. And of course, he was sure about bringing Y/N on tour.

She was possibly one of the best people he had ever worked with, and one of the best friends he’s ever had. He was sure about getting close with her, and he was sure about keeping her close. Only, now keeping her close meant keeping her arms length apart, because if he got any closer he wouldn’t be able to handle being with her any closer than a few little touches and hugs and cheek and forehead kisses, not when he couldn’t have her.

So it was safe to say when he opened his eyes the next morning with Y/N flung over him, her leg between his own, her arm wrapped around his chest with her face pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, and her warm soft breaths hitting his bare skin, making goosebumps pimple, he freaked out. 1, because friends did NOT cuddle like this, and 2, the close contact was making his chest clench and his lower abdomen heat up.

He let out a shaky breath and thanked his lucky stars Y/N was a deep sleeper, and slowly slid out from under her, ignoring how his arms were wrapped around her and his hands were touching her bare skin where her shirt (his shirt really, and that just made it about a billion times worse) had ridden up in the night. As he was pulling his torso from her body after getting his legs out, she let out a whine and her grip on his back tightened.

His heart beat wildly fast, so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked down and saw it moving through his skin, and he stilled, terrified that she was awake. A few minutes went by, and she didn’t stir anymore, so after chalking her movements up to a dreaming Y/N, he moved a hand and gently took her soft hand off of his bare skin, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Finally he’s out of bed, and slipping on the clothes he wore the night before, folding the sweats he borrowed and putting them back in her suitcase. He grabs his phone off the other side table Y/N never used and reaches her door, making the terrible mistake of looking back. Y/N’s face is smushed into the pillow he put under her head, her lips sightly open as she slept and her arms now curled around the pillow Harry had used last night, and he would swear on his mum’s life that she was breathing in his scent if not for the fact that he was certain she didn’t like him the way he liked her, and he didn’t want to barter his mum’s life on something so uncertain.

His chest clenched for what felt like the billionth time this morning and even if he didn’t know it then, he had already decided that he couldn’t handle this anymore, whatever this was, and began to push the sleeping girl out of his mind and heart, in order to save himself from future heartbreak.

。:°ஐ

When Y/N woke up, her bed was empty, and she had never felt akin to a bed until that morning.

。:°ஐ

The last time Harry really spoke to Y/N was the night he slept over.

It had been a little over a month since then, and she was trying really hard not to let it get to her, but seeing as Harry interacted just fine with everyone else, and his problem seemed to be with just Y/N, she couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she had somehow scared him off.

A week after he slept over, the only times he spoke to her were for performances and work-related things, and her mind had been swarming with questions. Did she say something about him, or to him while she was sleeping? Sure, she had a dream about him, but it wasn’t anything dirty (although that had happened a few times before), they were just at a carnival and there was a ride in which they got to fly, it was quite fun. Did she cuddle him too much? Sure she could be really touchy when she’s tired, but so can Harry if his wandering hands (only in appropriate places) when they had movie nights were anything to go by.

So her questions went unanswered, and her attempts to speak with him were fruitfully ignored, whether that be he pretends he didn’t hear her the first time, or if he excuses himself before answering because he had to talk to someone about something.

Everyone else in the band noticed, and Y/N didn’t know it, but everyone at tried to talk to Harry about it at least once. Adam mentioned how Y/N and Harry seemed to have drifted apart and Harry only hummed in agreement, making it obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Charlotte had asked Harry if he was doing okay, to which he responded “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” And she didn’t feel like it was her place to tell him that Y/N had come to her crying about Harry’s actions, or lack thereof, towards her and she didn’t know what was wrong. Sarah was blunt with Harry, telling him how it was obvious Y/N and him weren’t speaking and asking what had happened to which Harry shrugged it off and told her that “people grow apart”, and it wasn’t anything personal. Mitch had tried to the same, to no avail, despite being even more blunt than everyone else.

And that led them here, 15 minutes before Harry’s second, and last night in L.A. on his tour before they head to New York. He was quite looking forward to it, excited to see the few friends who couldn’t make it the night before. It was easy, going out with people after the performance, not having to think about Y/N as he drinks the night away.

He looked in the mirror in front of him, patting the invisible dust off of his pearl adorned blazer and pants, the wife-beater under his coat so thin his tattoos could be traced. Usually after he was dressed he would pop into the band’s dressing room just to shake off the nerves beforehand, but he stopped doing that after he began to push himself away from Y/N. There would be no where else to sit but next to her, and that didn’t help his overwhelming need to hold her. So instead, he made his way to the couch in his room, relaxing for the few minutes he had.

Y/N on the other hand was sitting in the dressing room with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte, and Adam, all conversing about how ready they were, the energy in L.A. the night before had been off the charts, and they were more than excited to feel it again. All Y/N could think about, however, was that this just meant there was one more show to play, then tour would be over, and there would be no more reason to be in Harry’s band. Not when he clearly didn’t want to be friends with her anymore, and she thinks this is the worst she’s ever felt in a long, long time.

。:°ஐ

The first part of the show goes really well. Harry is hyping up the audience, and everyone is smiling. “She” was the next song they were to play after Harry stopped interacting with the audience and Y/N was excited. It was one of her favorite songs to play, and she loved just stopping and listening when Mitch did his solo. He usually did the more detailed guitar work, while Y/N worked with the backing chords.

“Alright, the next song we’ll be playing is “She”, let’s make sure not to get Mitch’s ego too high afterwards though.” Harry had laughed into the mic, walking back to the stand and clicking the mic into place. Then, it began. It was good, it really was, until Y/N noticed that Harry had faltered a bit in the chorus, and her eyes followed his own to the blonde hair in the VIP section. It was her, Camille, the muse behind this entire album. Her heart stuttered as she noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was gorgeous, prettier than all of the pictures she’s seen.

And Harry was looking only at her in the crowd. It was then, that Y/N started to go a bit haywire. He began to sing the chorus, and she guesses her fingers held the pick a bit tighter, and strummed bit harder, because after 10 seconds of playing she realized she could no longer hear his voice. Almost immediately did she soften the strumming and look up to see Harry turn to face her, confusion and anger, maybe, written all across his face. She ignores it and continues to play until the song is over. She’s not listening when the crowd cheers, but she regrets tuning in when Harry introduces the next song on the set list, how he says that it’s possibly one of his favorites, and meet’s his ex’s eyes when he starts to play Cherry.

It’s then that Y/N breaks. She keeps her eyes down, and her strumming quiet, just incase she falters (which she does about 2 times), and when her mouth moves up to sing the backing vocals she realizes that her eyes are welling up and her throat is closing in. She closes her mouth and continues to play the guitar, missing Harry’s look back at her, and the rest of the band’s attempt to conceal the fact that she had stopped singing in the middle of the verse.

The rest of the show goes on, and her tears are held back when they all wave goodbye, and when they rush offstage, and when Harry’s hand brushes her arm that she’s sure was a mistake (it wasn’t), and they continue to be held back until she bursts into the unisex restroom just a mere 20 feet away from the dressing rooms. She locks herself in a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat, shaking hands covering her face as she chokes on her sobs, knowing she would never be enough for Harry, thinking about how he want’s nothing to do with her, and how big of a mistake she made going on tour with them, because if she didn’t, then she wouldn’t have fallen in love with Harry, and she wouldn’t be feeling this way.

What feels like hours, but was actually just 15 minutes of her crying all the tears she could cry, she decided it was better to mope in her own hotel room rather than in a public place where anyone could walk in. She steps out of the stall and doesn’t bother looking in the mirror, only washes her hands, then rinses her face, patting it dry with a cheap brown paper towel. She crumples it up and tosses it in the trashcan, walking out of the restroom to see Harry outside of his dressing room, his arms wrapped around Camille in an intimate embrace.

Intruding would be a good word to describe how she felt right then, and quickly did she speed walk the other way, trying not to let any more tears fall as she opens the door to the bands dressing room to see Sarah and Mitch packing up her things. One look at her was all it took to break the dam that held her tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her head falling down and her other arm wrapping around her stomach, maybe it would make things better.

Sarah quickly hands Mitch Y/N’s bag that held her sweats, sweatshirt, purse, and phone she brought to the venue, and takes the girl into a much needed embrace. She cried into Sarahs chest for a bit, snotty apologies from Y/N that Sarah waved off, insisting it was okay, and that she would be okay.

After calming her down a bit and receiving a hug from Mitch, she takes her bag and walks into one of the privacy divider boxes, changing into the clothes she would wear tomorrow on the flight, and tonight to sleep in. Mitch and Sarah lead her out of the venue with all of their arms locked, and bring her to the car, the hotel, and lastly her room.

“We’re right next door, if you need anything. Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Sarah asked, biting her lip in anxiousness. Y/N shook her head, her puffy eyes hurting from the movement. “No, I’m gonna be okay. Thank you- um, can-can you not tell anyone? I just-”

“Of course we won’t tell anyone,” Mitch interrupts her, making sure she won’t start crying again, because if there’s something he wants least, it’s to see her cry. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

Y/N nods, and they all hug and part with declarations of love and goodnight’s.

。:°ஐ

Harry just arrived at the hotel after a quick late dinner with Camille at her flat, catching up and eating some really good Chinese take-out. It was always good seeing her, they weren’t super close anymore of course, she had a new boyfriend now, he was there too actually, a really fine lad that he thinks Camille deserves, but he enjoyed getting to see her with no bad-blood.

So the night was going good, other than Y/N’s weird guitar mishap and her faltering voice during the show, that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Well, it was going good, until Mitch called him after Harry sent him a text talking about how he was back at the hotel, and told him that he was really stupid. Told Harry that Y/N seemed really hurt earlier, and how he thinks that Harry ignoring her caught up to her. Of course, Mitch knew it was partially untrue, but to remain loyal to Y/N he couldn’t tell Harry why she was so upset, and exactly how upset Y/N really was.

Upon hearing this, Harry’s mood deflated and he rushed to Y/N’s hotel room, knocking a few times with a soft “It’s me, Harry.” through the door. Y/N heard it, but there was no way in hell she would open the door for him, so she feigned sleep and hoped he wouldn’t attempt to wake her up. “Are you awake, love?” No answer. “Pet?” No answer. “Okay, well, I just wanted to talk to you, um, but we can do that tomorrow, I-um, I’m sorry.”

He left, after that, leaving her to curl up in her covers alone, tears leaking from her eyes.

The next morning was anything but fun, they were to wake up at 6 and catch the 7:30 AM flight from L.A. to New York. Of course, everyone one in the band and a few others got first class, while the rest of the crew rode on Harry’s rented private jet, to hold all the equipment that wasn’t provided at the venue.

So this meant that Y/N and Harry would have to be stuck in the same cabin of a plane together for about 5 and a half hours. Luckily they weren’t designated to sit next to each other, but Harry had other plans.

He switched tickets with a hesitant Charlotte and got the aisle seat, where Y/N would have the window seat. He got on first, and got settled in, biting his lip in nerves, he wasn’t really sure how he would be able to explain away all of his actions to her, but he knew that he had to, he didn’t want to loose Y/N.

Y/N stepped onto the plane, flashing a fake smile at the flight attendant who obviously noticed her puffy eyes and frowning face. Her eyes darted from the row number and seat letter to the ones on the top of the cabin, and when she found the matching pair of seats, there he was, in all his sweatpants-sweatshirt covered glory.

Her mouth opened to tell him she didn’t want to sit next to him, but when he looked up at her with a soft smile, all she could do was close her lips and sigh, squeezing past him to plop down in the seat with the window.

He didn’t try to speak to her, and she did the same, but he really wanted to. Wanted to ask her how she was, what she had been doing when they stopped talking (or when he stopped talking to her), if her Mom was still working at the job she wanted to quit or if she finally did it, if she still wanted to get a cat when tour was over, but he just couldn’t.

He had no idea where to even start, does he talk to her, then hope the conversation will lead to a place where he can apologize, or does he just apologize straight up, but have no explanation as to why he hurt her in the first place.

The internal battle lasted until they landed, when they got off the plane, traveled to the hotel, and when they went to their respective suites.

Y/N considered herself lucky that Harry had decided to not speak to her on the flight. That wouldn’t have given her an option to opt out of the conversation, and she knew he was smarter than that. She didn’t know however, that when she opened the door to her hotel room after a hasty knock, expecting another member of the band, that Harry would be standing in front of it, his eyes widened in anxiety.

“Wh-”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, interrupting her and walking past her into her room that she hadn’t invited him into. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you, and-and not talking to you when you tried to talk to me. You didn’t deserve it, I’m sorry.”

Her brows raised in surprise and she shut the door behind him, staying near the entrance. As her mouth opened to accept the apology, her mind raced through how she had been feeling the past month and instead she said, “It’s been a fucking month Harry, I-I thought everything was fine, and then one day you just decided to cut me out?”

“I know,” He stepped closer to her, guilt rushing through him. “I know, it was stupid of me, and I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t even know what to say. You wouldn’t even look at me on the flight and I-“

He was interrupted by her walking up and pushing her finger against his chest. “I wouldn’t talk to you?” She scoffed, tears brimming her eyes. “I-what did you expect after you pushed me away for a month, no warning, no reason-”

“Of course I had a reason!” Harry raised his voice, eyes watery as well. “I fucking love you! That’s why, and-and we were getting too close than friends should, and I couldn’t handle not being with you.”

Silence.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry-mmph!”

His apology was silenced by her lips on his, and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening. They fluttered closed, and his arms wrapped around her torso, while her hands were placed on his cheeks and wowthiswasreallyhappeningandhewasn’tdreamingwashedreamingnohewasn’t-

Y/N pulled away with a deep breath in and laughed a bit, her forehead resting against his. “If you didn’t catch on with that, I love you too.”

Harry laughed and cheekily grinned, pulling her even closer than she was before. “Really? I’m not sure I got it, can you help me understand a bit more?”

She swatted his chest and kissed him once more. “Cheeky bastard.”

#stillcantbelieveharrywonagrammy #stillsadaboutpostponedtour #itswhateverthough #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #mitch is my favorite person

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sukiglycerin · 3 years

Text

the scrapbook documenting denki kaminari and his experiences with love, subtlety, and volumes of manga || denki kaminari.

* pairing: denki kaminari x oblivious!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, normal conflict(??) but not much, uni!au, friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots to lovers

* words: 4.5k

* warnings: brief scenario of intoxication, mentions of maidgirls (one of them has a gun because mey-rin from kuroshitsuji), reader has past bad experiences with relationships, bakusquad is supportive af, reader is oblivious (duh), i love sero, side kiribaku

* original request: Can you do a fluff Denki crushing on the reader but the reader is really oblivious to him just badly flirting and bakusquad gets annoyed and helps them get together 😳

* a/n: this turned out much longer than expected, but i’m satisfied with the turn-out! i call this a “scrapbook” because it’s like a collection of short moments. i’m experimenting with this writing style, so i hope you enjoy it! i started writing reader by basing them off of this one pretty girl i know (and very much like), but then reader started morphing into me projecting myself and oh boy. yeah. fun fact: i actually own the kuroshitsuji manga volume with the maidgirl on the cover (volume 22).

“please don’t like me,” is the first thing you say to denki kaminari. you don’t know who he is, though, when you say these words. all you know is that he’s presumably a college student like you and that he’s quite extroverted. behind him stand three of his friends giggling to themselves. it’s apparent they’re playing a practical joke.

the first thing the blond boy said to you was, “hey, you’re cute, i like you.” that was thirty seconds ago, after you’d put your manga down when you noticed his friends pushing him towards you.

he cracks a grin upon your response. “alright.” he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “the point still stands - you’re cute.” his eyes fall to the manga you set down. “hey- is that detective conan?”

it’s an old, worn copy of detective conan’s first volume.

“oh, yeah,” you reply.

“can i see it?” he asks. you nod.

he picks up the book, surprisingly gentle with its fading corners and creased spine.

"i used to read the series all the time," he says quietly, reliving a memory in his eyes. "i always tried to solve the crime before conan."

you're not sure what to answer, but he introduces himself before you can.

"i'm kaminari, by the way." he slips a piece of paper in your manga, setting the book down on your table. "text me."

“please don’t fall in love with me,” is the first thing you whisper to denki kaminari, hushed under the sheets in mina’s room. you're surprised he can hear you over the quiet murmurings of a ghibli movie playing on the tv; you're surprised he's awake.

“okay,” and it’s the first promise he’s ever broken, voice all low and hoarse from the after-effects of prolonged silence.

(maybe he should've feigned sleep, he later thinks, as his heart stupidly falls and crashes clumsily into love. maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.)

he turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling. it's dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars mina and sero had impulsively hung up one friday evening instead of studying. there's a couple moons, too, which bakugou had frowned upon, stating, "where are we, jupiter? there's only one moon orbiting earth." kirishima laughed.

from the sound of shuffling sheets and a quick glance next to him, denki can tell you're now laying on your back, too. he almost makes a comment about you copying him. he stares at the faux stars overhead, not tired enough to close his eyes and allow sleep it's victory for the night. there's not much to do while awake at the moment other than strain his ear to decipher to the tv's audio. his throat feels dry, but he's not motivated enough to sit up to grab a water bottle. anyway, he supposes you and he are staring at the same sky, in a cheesy way. he remembers reading something like that in a book.

he kills the time and his aching mind by finding stupid constellations in the stick-on stars. there's a slightly distorted dipper of some sort, and a heart. there's a lot of squares. there's a shape he passes off as orion, but he knows anyone a tad more into astronomy than him would gasp at the abstract shape and completely dismiss its resemblance to orion.

eventually, your breathing slows to a rhythmic pace beside him. the logical part of his mind tells him to sleep now that you, too, are sleeping. he doesn't know why he waited for you to be asleep first. one pentagon constellation later, kaminari allows sleep's gaze to wash over and envelope him. the ghibli movie is still playing.

it seems that his friends have beat him, somehow, to the conclusion that denki kaminari has a bit of a crush on you. it's childish, really. he shouldn't like you, recalling your first words to him. they struck you apart from other people he'd met. back then, though, he never seriously thought about you like that. sure, you were conventionally attractive (enough for him to approach you to give you his number), but it was all in good fun. that's what you were, too, for the longest time: good fun and a friend.

until one day, glances lingered for too long while you weren't looking. one day, kaminari's jokes became more and more aimed for you, to hear your laughter in his ears. one day, kaminari realizes he has your usual coffee and bubble tea order memorized, when he can barely remember his own.

he pretends all of it is completely normal, but mina assures him differently. as does bakugou, which is strange, because he's usually not wrapped up in other people's affairs (when voicing this to the blond, he responded, "it's hard not to notice because you're too damn obvious"). it's kind of hard to ignore when bakugou calls it obvious (he's literally had kirishima pining over him since day one with no notice).

kaminari really does try to ignore the bubbling feeling rising at the bottom of his heart. he really does, but you keep on shaking and shaking his poor heart until it's all fizzy like a bottle of soda. he's weak, okay? one day, he’ll explode.

his friends are all urging him to confess to you already, but he cannot work up the nerve to do so. instead, kaminari drops you obvious hints that he likes you. he doesn't know whether you're completely oblivious to them or if you're deliberately ignoring them.

he's been so painfully obvious, he swears.

he's practically able to write a list of hints he's dropped. he's fairly confident he could publish it as an advice book with the title "how to tell your crush you like them without saying 'i like you.'" by this point, he's the king of obvious subtlety.

the list would go something like this, in no particular order:

pick-up lines

"did it hurt, when you fell-" you were silent, "-from the vending machine? because you're a snack."

silence. absolute radio silence. he was extremely tempted to run away from the sheer awkwardness between the two of you. as he turned to leave and freak out in private, he heard you mumble a belated "thanks," which made everything worth it.

he still left to freak out, though (and plan his next pick-up line to tell you).

manga references

"hey, y/n," kaminari had said one day, after a particular burst of confidence. you hadn't looked up from your book.

"if i were shinichi from detective conan, you'd be ran," he'd said, referencing the main love interests from the manga. "or maybe vice versa. you are the smart one in this relationship..."

you didn't bat an eye. "they never get together, though? shinichi and ran."

"they- they don't?!" he'd sputtered indignantly. he definitely needed to read up his detective conan lore. "but they both like each other?"

"true," you'd replied in typical you fashion, neither letting on whether you did like him or not. well, hey, kaminari had thought. you didn't deny it. progress.

hand size comparison (which was, in reality, just an excuse to kind of hold your hand)

kaminari had smoothly been planning this for weeks (which, according to sero, was a little sad). he'd bring up the topic of hands one day in your daily conversations, then nonchalantly slip a "oh, y/n, let's do a hand size comparison!" he high-fived himself mentally upon the formulation of this genius plan - you'd definitely fall for him (or at least, realize his feelings for you - this state of teetering between do they like me or do they not like me frustrated him for months on end). the perfect opportunity presented itself one day as the two of you lounged in mina’s room (which, at this point, had become you and your friends’ hangout spot) studying.

“wow, you type fast,” kaminari remarked as he pretended to innocently look up from the “work” (changing his laptop wallpaper for the tenth time that day) he was doing. you were focused on your work, sitting on mina’s bed with your laptop propped up by a pillow on your lap. you’d barely registered his words, judging by the way your eyebrows scrunched and how you looked up at him after a slow beat.

“oh, uh, thanks,” you replied. “i’m just copying some text down. i don’t usually type this fas…” you trailed off, eyes widening as you watched kaminari scooching next to you on the bed. he put his hand next to yours, whose fingers still ghosted the keys of your keyboard.

“look,” he said softly, bringing your hands up to eye level. “hand size comparison.” it was breathed out belatedly, but your crystalline eyes didn’t leave his. he started to curve his fingers in between yours, holding your hand so tenderly. he really, really didn’t want to let go. “we fit.” it was a whisper he wasn’t sure you could hear - did he want you to hear it? “like… a puzzle,” he added awkwardly.

you nodded, dazed, slowly bending your fingers over his. he rocked your clasped hands side to side, a fond feeling creeping through his limbs. it was warm and tingly - and maybe it was contagious. could you feel it too, buzzing past his fingertips to you?

precisely three minutes passed before kaminari’s arm started to ache. he didn’t catch your disappointed expression when he let go of your hand, but he did catch the smile that emerged when he held your hand as the sides of your fingers nudged the bed. you didn’t get much work done after that, sitting in silence with him.

brushing your hand in a popcorn bucket

movie nights on fridays were commonplace at mina’s. the plan, this time, was created by kirishima, who said that it was manly with just the right amount of romantic. kaminari hoped so. the movie settled on was some romance flick, as decided by mina, kirishima, and sero’s pleading with a very begrudging bakugou.

he can’t remember much of the movie. what he can remember, however, is the very close presence of you next to him as the two of you shared a popcorn bucket (courtesy of sero’s very romantic ideas). your hands brushed a (purposeful, on kaminari’s end) dozen times throughout the film. the last couple were accidents. on the first time, though, kaminari watched with satisfaction from his peripheral view as you looked from him to the popcorn that obscured the place where your hands made contact. he was very satisfied by the time the movie ended.

truth or drink (which just ended up with you and he both getting very, very drunk)

you didn’t particularly enjoy the taste of sake, but that night was an exception. according to your drunken explanation, you had a very rough day. your exam, first and foremost, did not go particularly well (“who cares about freud!?” you blurted. “i dooooon’t!”). kaminari didn’t have the heart to ask who this freud was. then, one of your close friends confessed to you (which almost made kaminari’s heart stop, when you first recounted it to him), and you had to turn them down. you adamantly refused any sort of relationship, you told kaminari. (“nuh uh,” you shook your head. “they’re not good.”) it was surprising to him that you opened up that night. your first couple drinks left you quieter than usual - which was scary, because kaminari was practically having a conversation with himself then. a couple more drinks loosened your tongue, though.

“there’s someone i like.” you jabbed a finger at him. “but i’m not supposed to saaaay… and it’s scaaary,” you slurred.

“ohh?” kaminari asked, more focused on the burn in the back of his throat. “whooo is it?”

you looked at your arm outstretched to him, and the pieces fell into place slower than they should’ve. he first looked around, just in case he was covering the person you were really pointing to (of course, you and him were the only ones there).

“this guy?" he asked, flabbergasted and pointing to himself. "him?!"

you nodded solemnly. "but i don't like dating," you said stubbornly. "love is dead!" you announced, flopping on the carpet.

kaminari watched the heaving of your breaths as you lay on the ground, and strained his ears to hear your soft, soberish murmuring.

"i really like you, denki kaminari."

a dopish grin formed itself on his face. "i really like you too, y/n."

kaminari then promptly blacked out, but not before hearing you running to the bathroom to throw up.

as of now, he can’t recall anything he or you said that night. on the contrary, he can vividly remember the ringing in his head and the sickly feeling that overtook him the next morning.

"you two are so frustrating!" mina declares over her sweetened iced tea. she points at kaminari, then to you standing with sero in the distance. you’re animatedly talking about some painting (“it’s renoir!” you mooned when you first saw it) while he and the rest of the group sit on a nearby bench.

kaminari puts his hands up. “don’t look at me - i tried my best!”

“yeah, sure,” mina dismisses. “and i’m the queen of england.”

“i mean, they already told me not to like them!” kaminari counters. “what am i supposed to do about that?”

“shoot your shot!” mina urges. “c’mon, what’s the worst that could happen? …wait, don’t answer that.”

“yeah, kaminari, bro,” kirishima puts his elbow on kaminari’s shoulder. “flirt a little bit more.”

“that’s all you two seem to do,” bakugou grumbles from the other side of kirishima.

“you just need a little push,” mina says. kaminari isn’t sure he likes mina’s definition of push.

“i think i’m g-”

“hey, sero, come here!” mina calls to sero in the distance, earning her a couple dirty glances from others in the gallery. “kaminari wants to look at the painting with y/n.”

oh, god, kaminari groans internally. sero, already walking toward the bench, flashes a knowing grin toward him.

“go get ‘em, champ.” sero pats kaminari on the back as the blond stands up, emitting a low, audible groan.

the four on the bench watch as your eyes light up at the approaching kaminari, who’s sheepishly scratching his neck. he says something - then you start again, rambling something about “impressionism” then “salon.” mina watches with clasped, anticipating hands; kirishima’s hand accidentally brushes bakugou’s, who’s holding a juice box and watching the two of you; sero simply smiles with knowledge that the others are unaware of.

“well, what do you think?” you finally ask kaminari, gesturing to the painting.

“uhh,” kaminari says. he was too busy staring at your face - the twinkle in your eyes, the curve of your lips - to pay attention to any of what you’d said. something about impressing and fleeting moments. he looks at the person depicted in the composition, then back to you. he remembers kirishima’s words - flirt a little bit more. it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“i think it’s pretty,” he leans into you, murmuring so he can be sure no one but you and he hears his words, “but it’s definitely not as pretty as you.”

you look down at yourself; then, for whatever reason, to sero. kaminari looks at sero, too, who’s wearing this stupid smile that sets unease in kaminari’s chest. he gives you two big thumbs-up. he’s so confused by sero’s behavior that he barely registers the light sensation of something on his cheek - a kiss. he looks at you, who’s looking away, then to the bench, where his friends are cheering despite the disapproving looks from those around them. he touches his cheek out of disbelief. light swells in his chest - it’s warm, so warm - but your aloof voice brings him back to reality (which really, isn’t much different from a dream).

“kaminari, you’re very red right now.”

“the two of you,” mina exclaims with the two of her hands clasped together in excitement over skype, “should go to a manga cafe!”

kaminari blinks. “as a date?”

“i wasn’t thinking about it like that.” mina nudges him, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “but hey, that works too. i mean, they did kiss y-”

kaminari cuts the pink-haired girl off before she can finish. “is that something… they’d want to do?”

“mmm…. probably,” mina says. “they were reading manga when you first met them right?”

he can vividly remember the somewhat tattered volume of conan, the detective turned little boy who must solve crime while hiding his own identity. really, the wear was only on the soft cover, nudged and peeling on the corners with faded text splayed on the spine. the pages were in crisp condition, he’d noted one day as he (totally, completely discreetly) watched you read the copy again. the bookshelf in your dorm and the stack of books on your desk is littered with different mangas, ranging from the old classics (astroboy) to some newer works (your lie in april). he only remembers this fact because he really, really wants to borrow a copy of black butler (yes, it’s the one with the maid on it. she looks really hot with a gun, okay?). all your manga are well-taken care of, cared for diligently as if each book has a piece of your heart in it. besides, you rarely lend out any (sero once asked to borrow jujutsu kaisen and you very, very reluctantly handed it to him), so he doubts you’d trust him with it.

“hang on, lemme ask sero if they’d be interested in a manga cafe,” mina says, pulling out her phone. “they’ve been close lately,” she mumbles as she types out a quick text to him, a quiet ping letting kaminari know that she’s sent it.

after a pause, mina excitedly reads sero’s reply: “yeah, probably.”

well, that was a definitive answer.

“there’s one nearby here,” mina offers. “hagakure told me good things about it, and she has a knack for finding the best spots in town. i’ll send you the address.”

“you think they’d like it?” kaminari says in an atypical bout of self-consciousness.

“of course,” mina replies instantly. “don’t you see how they look at you?”

usagi manga kissa makes kaminari cringe. it’s not the bunny-themed logo on the top of the building, nor is it the wide assortment of manga lining the walls, nor is it the cozy, soft seats nuzzled in the nooks and crannies of the café. it’s not even the life-sized cardboard cut-outs of various anime maid girls (he actually particularly really likes that detail). it’s the name itself. usagi is fine - kaminari likes bunnies as much as the next guy. manga is fine, too - he wouldn’t be here if not for the manga. the kissa makes him cringe for the most immature of reasons, like a five year old just learning basic english vocabulary. kissa innocently shortens the word kissaten, for cafeteria, but suspiciously sounds like the english word kiss. he does not want to think about kissing as he walks into the café with you, and especially not when the lady at the counter asks if you want a couples’ discount (you say yes, solely because it’s cheaper).

he does not want to think about kissing as he walks next to you, browsing the manga selection and passing the shoujo section that boasts illustrations of happy couples and romantic imagery. he doesn’t want to think about kissing as the two of you walk to a “couple’s” room, you rambling about the plot of the manga you chose and him with some shounen volleyball manga in his hand. kissing is the worst thing to think about as your knee touches his in the cramped apparent two-person room. he is not thinking about kissing at all when you offer him your water bottle, half full, and he’s definitely not thinking about indirect kissing or anything when he takes a sip. that would be crazy.

fortunate for him, his manga is full of not-kissing, so he’s able to somewhat enjoy it without his mind bombarding him with the fact that your face is less than a metre away. as he finishes up the volume, he realizes how much of a middle school student he feels like.

“y/n,” he looks up to you and says. you’re watching an old episode of neon genesis evangelion on the computer provided in the room, the manga you were reading sitting on the table beside the keyboard.

“yeah?” you respond and pause the anime. out of his peripherals, he can see you turn to look at him. he stares at the wall ahead of him, lacking the confidence to face you head-on.

“remember when we first met?” he reminisces.

“the cafe?” you say. “yeah.”

“if… i can ask,” he musters, “why did you say what you did then?”

you pause, taken aback. “i… i don’t know.”

“because,” kaminari starts, and you flinch, “i like you. a-and i know you said not to-”

a ghost has crossed your face. your mouth is agape, as if you suspected his feelings but never thought he’d verbalize them. he wonders what the kiss was about.

“i’m,” you gulp, breath stuttering, “i’m sorry.”

kaminari lied. five days later of zero contact with you, he realizes he’s in deep. he doesn’t like you - he’s in love with you. they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and here he is, sifting through memories he had with you like they’re books. he should probably be studying instead of lying spread eagle on his bed, thinking of you. he can recall a promise made one night and the moment it was broken; he can remember the plastic stars he studied that night, falsely shining and lighting hope within him. he can remember dozens of constellations, half of which were geometric shapes, that he fell asleep to with you at his side. his heart aches, alighting a dull burn within him like a protostar barely able to burn hydrogen.

there’s a polite knock at his door, so he assumes it to be either kirishima or sero. mina always enters unannounced and bakugou is far too brash to knock softly. slowly - almost reluctantly - he sits up in bed, standing up and making his way to the door. he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, telling him that his hair is an absolute mess and in no way presentable. he figures that either kirishima or sero will comment about it, but he never needed to impress them in the first place. turning the knob and opening the door, he’s expecting either of his friends, maybe here to nag him or ask him to come and study or say “hey, why haven’t you spammed the group chat with memes in a while? i missed them.”

he definitely isn’t expecting you, face pulled into a worried expression and lips held in a thin, anticipating line before you meet his eyes. you’re pouring out a waterfall of apologies at a thousand words per second as soon as he opens the door, letting yourself in and hardly taking notice of his bird’s nest hair. he guides you to the couch, attempting to interject and ask you to slow down, but he finds that it sounds rude at any given moment. you’re sitting on the couch, lamentations and explanations spilling from your lips as you grip the plush material of the cushion you sit on, when you finally pause to take a breath. kaminari uses this opportunity to interrupt you.

“woah, woah, woah.” he hesitantly puts a hand on your shoulder. “can you back up?”

“oh, yeah,” you start to move back in your seat and kaminari stifles a laugh.

“no, can you start your story from the beginning?” he asks. “take your time, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m really, really sorry about what happened the other day,” you apologize, then look at him finally and ogle his hair. “i got… scared,” you admit earnestly. before he can make any question of it, you continue, “i like you too, see. and i never really, seriously acted on it - i didn’t want to. so when you did the inevitable and confessed… it scared me. the truth is… i’m not the best at romance or relationships. i don’t want to put anyone through that, again.” your voice wavers but finishes strong as you look kaminari in the eyes.

“that?” he asks. he’s afraid he’s crossed a line, but you reply all the same.

“i was in a relationship, once. i wasn’t… i wasn’t good enough. i didn’t do the things that people in a relationship are supposed to do, i guess.” you fiddle with the fabric of the couch, looking down at your fingers. your voice gives away the vulnerability of the topic, wrapped in a stiff disconnection; you’ve distanced yourself from it, probably once too familiar with the feelings you speak of.

“it’s okay,” kaminari says, almost too quickly. he slows himself down. “that’s… completely fine,” he admits truthfully. “we can go slow. i… i can wait.”

“can you?” you look up at him, hope shining your eyes. it dims quickly before you say, “you don’t have to. i don’t want to limit you…”

“the only person i want is you,” he reassures you, hesitantly taking your hand in his. “you’re not…” he struggles for words, “...limiting me if i don’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“are you sure?” it’s an almost inaudible whisper, clutching your hopes in three words that are held together by thin threads.

“i’ve never been more sure,” kaminari replies confidently, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

“okay,” you breathe out, relief tingeing your speech. “i… want to be with you.”

it takes everything in kaminari not to kiss you right there.

“oh, by the way-” you say, standing up from the couch and leaving kaminari to sit alone, “did you still want to borrow that copy of black butler?”

“the one with the maid who has a gun?” kaminari asks, eyes wide. how did you know about that?

“yeah. you kept staring at it before, so i assumed…”

“yeah. yeah, no, yeah, that’d be really great. amazing, actually. wonderful. stupendous-” kaminari shuts himself up before he can ramble on longer.

“okay, give me a second,” you respond, smiling, and exit to the hallway to retrieve the manga.

you return with the volume in hand, placing it in kaminari’s hands.

“thanks,” he says as he glides his thumb over the glossy cover and mint condition. it’s heavier than kaminari thought, and it feels like the weight of a heart. he’ll be sure to take extra care of it, holding it with ginger fingers and a sweet, sweet feeling in his chest.

#kaminari x reader #kaminari fluff #kaminari angst #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #bnha #luna's writing #kaminari headcanons #bnha headcanons

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laventae · 3 years

Text

Serendipity

Summary: You accidentally bump into Suna once, then a second time, then a third time.... before it starts seeming like fate has already decided its course for the both of you.

Pairings: Suna Rintaro x F!reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, College/Uni au

Word count: 2.6k words

Part: (1) , 2 , (3) , (TBC)

(A/N: This chapter is shorter than what I had in mind, but I kind of want to leave it with that ending. Maybe I’ll make the next one slightly longer. Anyways..)

Ring Ring

‘I hope I don’t run into him today...’ you think before you jolt up on your bed and reach for your phone.

You dismiss the alarm and sit in bed for a few minutes, thinking about the night before.

Your heart rate quickens when you think about how badly the night could’ve ended, with the creepy old man following you out of the bar, and almost following you home. And how grateful you were when your ‘neighbor’ stepped in to help you out.

You curl yourself up in a ball and hold back a scream when you think about how you lied to him about where you lived, only to see him again in front of your actual apartment, a couple of minutes later.

‘No, you know what, I did nothing wrong’ you assure yourself as you sit up in bed again, ‘I just wanted to play it safe, and after what happened with that creep, nobody can blame me for doing what I did, right?’

You sigh as you get out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up.

‘I still hope I don’t run into him today...’ you think to yourself, again, as you leave the bathroom and head for the kitchen to have a quick bite, before getting ready for work.

After about an hour, you’ve already finished having breakfast and you get ready to head out. You look at the time

8:48 A.M

‘Yeah, my shift starts at 9, so I guess I should head out right now’

You grab your bag and keys, then head for the door to put on your shoes.

When you were done, you open the door to your apartment. You stop in your tracks as soon as you notice your neighbor leaving his apartment as well.

‘Are you kidding me?’ you think, as you both stare at each other for a moment.

You clear your throat, leaving your apartment, then close the door behind you. You notice him do the same, turning his back to you to make sure he locks his door.

“Good morning...!” you try to greet him, hoping to dissolve the awkwardness you felt between the both of you.

He turns around to face you when he was done and nods, “Good morning” he replies, the same blank expression from yesterday plastered on his face. He then starts walking to the elevator.

‘I can’t read him at all; does he even remember what happened yesterday?’

“Wait!” you call out to him and he stops and turns around to face you.

‘Wait, what even am I supposed to say right now?’

“Yes?” he asks when you don’t say anything.

You walk up to him, and look at the floor embarrassed, “I just uh... wanted to thank you again... for yesterday,” you look up at him again, “And I'm sorry for lying to you about where I lived, when you were just trying to help”

He looks at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself become uneasy under his sharp gaze, before he finally nods and speaks up again, “No, it’s understandable. You did good” he pats your head for a second, before looking away, turning to the elevators, “And you don’t have to thank me” he continues as he starts walking to the elevators once again.

You feel yourself slightly flush at the sudden and unexpected action, still frozen in place where he left you, and you curse yourself in your head for thinking he sounded super cool just then.

‘I still can’t read him at all, though...’ you think before turning back to him, and notice him entering the elevator.

“Wait!” you call out again, “Wait for me!”

You rush to elevator and notice him holding the door open, looking at his phone, but looks up at you for a second before you get in. He goes back to scrolling on his phone as the door closes.

“Uhmm...” you hesitantly start, noticing him look up at you from the corner of your eye, “I’d still like to thank you, though. Uh, I work at this café, like five minutes away from here, it’s called The Hub Café,” you pause for a second to look at him, he doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue, “If you, like, ever want to pass by and have some coffee, or anything really, it’s on me”

He still doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. You look away, becoming uneasy under his gaze, once again.

Needing to fill the silence, you speak up again, “I mean, I know it isn’t much, and it definitely doesn’t compare to how you helped me out yesterday, but-”

Your rambling, however, is interrupted when you hear him chuckle lightly, and you look at him feeling embarrassed again.

“I’ll think about it” he tells you casually, and looks back at his phone, but you notice a faint smile on his lips.

‘Wow, so he can smile, huh...?’ you think to yourself but feel yourself slightly flush when you notice yourself staring at him.

“Right...” you mumble as the elevator door opens and he gets off, heading for the apartment building door.

‘Well, I think that went well?’ you sigh as you get off the elevator as well.

-~-~-

You hear the door of the café open and you quickly look up from the register, subconsciously hoping it was him.

‘What am I even thinking right now...’ you sigh, slightly disappointed, when you see a random customer come in instead.

A week has passed by since the last time you saw him.

It kind of starts making you feel bad. I mean was he avoiding you on purpose? Or was he just super busy? Did he even leave his apartment at all? Or has he not even been there this whole time?

You slowly start noticing yourself glance up at the door, at you part-time job, more often. Whenever someone comes in, you somewhat hope it’s him. You subconsciously start leaving your house every day around the same time you left the last time you both bumped into each other, before you left for work. You take your time unlocking the door when you get home, hoping he would also get home around the same time, or maybe leave his apartment by then.

But, nothing.

“Thank you for your hard work! Have a nice weekend!” you hear your boss call out to you as you head for the door at the end of your shift.

“Thank you! You too!” you answer and leave the café.

You sigh, ‘he didn’t come today either...’

Lately, you’ve been trying your best to cut back on taking late night shifts, scared of having another run-in with that old man. And thankfully, it’s only about 3 p.m in the afternoon right now, people still out, bustling around the shops, so you felt comfortable walking back home on your own.

You groan as you start making your way back home.

‘Why am I even still thinking about him? Whatever...' you think as you grab your phone from your bag and call Hina, to try and get your mind off of it.

The line rings a couple of times before she picks up.

“Heyy y/n!” she answers the phone, her usual excited tone never failing to cheer you up when you wanted to.

“Hey Hina, you busy right now?”

“Nope, not all, what's up?” she asks sounding concerned.

“Nothing specific, was hoping you would keep me company as I walk back home”

“OH! Of course! So... what’s on your mind, hm?”

“Huh? Nothing... Like I said, I just wanted the company”

You hear her laugh on the other end of the line, “You pretend like we haven’t been best friends for the last 2 years, you know. So come on, spill. I know you always call me like this when you’re overthinking something, so, what is it?”

“Nothing...” you say pouting, and you hear her laugh again.

“Who’s bothering you? Is it your boss? Or Oh! Is it about that guy? Your neighbor? Did you run into him again?”

You sigh, “Well, yes, it's about him... But no, it’s more like, what’s bothering me is that I haven’t run into him again, how is that even possible? He literally lives right in front of me!”

“There it is,” you hear her giggle before she continues, “Listen, I don’t know what happened with him, but honestly, you need to just forget about him”

Frankly speaking, you haven’t really told her exactly what happened between the both of you. You just told her that he helped you out of an uncomfortable situation a couple of days prior. It’s not that you were hiding something from her, you knew you were eventually going to tell her what happened, but honestly, you yourself still hadn’t wrapped your head around how that night unfolded, so you weren't really ready to talk to her about it just yet.

Besides, the fact that she always hated you insisting on walking everywhere didn’t help, especially at night. She always offered to walk you back home herself, drive you back, or at least call a cab for you. She’s always been protective of you like that. So, you know that all hell would break loose when she hears about what happened, and you weren't ready for her berating you about it. It was all out of love, you knew that, but you just weren’t ready yet.

“I know... I know...” you sigh again, “I’m trying. Anyways, it’s just stupid, like I was just trying to thank him, but whatever” you continue as you notice you were almost close to your apartment building.

“Hey, you know what? I know what would help you get your mind off him. How about that date I was telling you about?” she asks, getting excited again.

‘Cupid Hina is back’ you think as you roll your eyes.

“Really? Right now?” you chuckle.

“Yes! It’s literally the perfect time, come on! It’ll help you get your mind off things”

“You won’t quit even if I say no, will you?”

“You know I won’t” she says and you hear her giggle.

You groan as you get into your building.

“I promise you, he’s super cool, and super nice, I’m literally one hundred percent sure you guys would hit it off” she continues.

You sigh as you wait next to elevator, “How is he any different from all the other people you set me up with?”

“I just know” she answers you, way too confident.

You sigh again, “And you told me he was your cousin or something? Rintaro? That was his name, right?”

“Yes! He just got back from abroad, like, a couple of weeks ago. So, what do you think about it? This weekend maybe? You’re off tomorrow, right?”

“Sure, sure, whatever,” you answer, hoping to just end the call before you get in the elevator, “tomorrow is fine”

“Yaaaay! Alright, I'll text you the details later tonight, alright?”

“Alright.” you both say your goodbyes before you get in the elevator and get to your apartment.

No sign of your neighbor that day either.

-~-~-

You get to the restaurant early, and the host guides you to your table.

“Here are your menus,” they say, placing a menu on the table in front of you, and on the opposite side of the table, where your date is supposed to sit, “If you need anything else, please let me know”

“Alright, thank you” you say. They nod and walk back to welcome the other guests.

You usually prefer going early to places you’ve never been to, especially when going on dates, just so you could check the ambiance of the place and familiarize yourself with the area and menu before your date gets there. Somehow, that makes you feel more comfortable.

However, this time, the place Hina tells you that your date booked was a much fancier restaurant than the usual, which, similarly, makes you even more nervous than usual. You don’t usually opt to go on fancy restaurant dates, you’re much more comfortable in more casual settings.

You wait for about 15 minutes, going through the menu a couple of times and checking your phone occasionally, until you notice it’s past the time when your date was supposed to be there. You look around the restaurant but only see couples sitting around on their tables, probably on dates as well, but nobody else was coming in.

You sigh and decide to go to the toilet and freshen up for a bit.

After doing so, you wash your hands and look at the mirror.

‘What am I even doing here...?’ you sigh to yourself, ‘If he doesn’t get here in 10 minutes, I'm legally allowed to leave, right?’

You chuckle to yourself at how lame that sounded, but you decide to go with it anyway. If he doesn’t get here in ten minutes, you’ll leave.

You nod your head at your reflection before grabbing a paper towel, and drying your hands.

You take one last look in the mirror, fixing your hair, before leaving the toilet.

You look around the restaurant, then to your table, and find nobody there, still.

You take out your phone to text Hina as you walk to your table,

TO ‘Wifeyy <3’: “Queen, he’s nowhere to be seen, I think he’s the one who ditched this ti-”

You accidentally bump into someone before finishing the text and you drop your phone.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking!” you say, bending down to grab your phone but the person you bumped into reaches it first.

“Oh, thank yo-” you’re cut off, flustered, when you notice your neighbor standing in front of you.

It seems like he was startled for a second as well, before you both straighten up and he hands you your phone.

“Uhm, thank you”

“No problem”

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments.

‘Who would’ve thought? He looks good, all dressed up...’

You curse that thought before you look at him and speak up again, “Wait, what are you doing here?”

He looks at you for second before looking around the restaurant, looking for something, or someone(?), “Oh, I'm actually supposed to be meeting someone here,” he looks back at you and stares you up and down, not really in an intimidating way, more like he was analyzing the way you looked, “what about you? On a date?”

‘How can he even say, or do, things like that so casually?’

You couldn’t help but flush at the way he was looking at you, so you look away, slightly embarrassed.

“Uhm- Yeah- I guess something like that”

‘Why do we have to keep bumping into each other like this?’

“What about you?” you ask, turning to him again, “On a date as well?”

“I guess?” he answers, as he scratches the back of his head, “I mean, my cousin set me up on this blind date with her friend or something, but I think I might've been a bit late. I'm not sure if she’s still her-”

“Wait” you interrupt him

‘Wait... there’s no way...’

‘No, there’s definitely no way...’ you think as you unconsciously let out a laugh.

“What?” he asks, looking at you, confused, and your eyes snap to him.

“Uh, is your name Rintaro, by any chance?”

“Yes, why?”

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me...’

“And is your cousin’s name Hina, by any chance?”

He looks at you confused and was about to answer, before it clicks with him as well.

“You’re y/n?”

You laugh nervously, “Yeah...”

(HQ Masterlist)

#haikyu #haikyuxreader #Suna Rintaro x reader #haikyuu #suna x reader #Suna Rintaro #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #Suna Rintarou #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #suna #suna scenarios #haikyu suna #haikyuu rintaro suna #fluff #hq bf #mi

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12tardis · 4 years

Text

Shy Smiles (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: none Requested: Yes! Lovely anon said ‘could you pretty please write a fic with Newt where it's just like a lot of fluff and shy smiles and looking at each other with the reader with loving eyes, maybe staying up till late just reading and whispering shy words of love, and holding hands, holding each other’. Anon, I’m sorry it took me longer than expected I hope you got through the uni week okay! You GOT this!

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: Super short and sweet fluff drabble. The reader has always been the confident and affectionate one in the friendship but once their official relationship is established the tables turn. A/N: Thank you to lovely anon for the request I hope you’re feeling better! I’m sorry I took a while to write it I had a not-so-nice endo ep this week which left me falling asleep literally every time I sat down to write. I’m emotional AF this week. Uni is hard! I hope you enjoy and please send me more requests x

Words: 2,534

Newt looked down at you curiously where you where curled up next to him on the couch, leaning on him just slightly and looking incredibly uncomfortable perched so precariously next to him. You were trying to give him personal space while at the same time resting your head on his shoulder as he read to you, his arm slung lazily over your shoulder. In truth you hadn’t really been paying much attention to the story at all because you were so hyper aware of Newt’s body pressed against yours and trying not to come across as too clingy. And you may have also been slightly distracted by the colour of his eyes in the afternoon sun.

Newt flicked his eyes away from you with a shy smile when he noticed your staring, continuing to read the book he had balanced in his right hand, subtly sliding his other hand from around your shoulder and to your waist. He let out a grunt when you suddenly jerked in response to his touch, elbowing him in the ribs hard enough for him to be momentarily winded.

“Oh my god, Newt I’m so sorry! Oh god I’m sorry are you okay?!”, you gasped, flapping your arms around in a panic before your hands were suddenly cupping his cheeks and Newt leant into your touch , catching his breath again.

“Y/N, it’s okay”, he smiled, blushing lightly when you set your hands on his chest in an attempt to soothe the spot you’d struck him. He shivered slightly at the way your hands slid across his pecs and over his ribs in your flustered state “Y/N, I’m okay!” , he repeated, letting out a breathy laugh as he lay his hands over yours, gently gripping your wrists in his large calloused hands.

It had been nearly 2 weeks since the day Newt had suddenly confessed his love for you and you had kissed him in response and thus your official relationship had began and he was still over the moon.

In your years of friendship you had been the more tactile and comfortable out of the two of you. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to to see you both hand in hand as you strolled around the castle. Or to find you perched upon Newt’s lap as you read a book aloud for the both of you or to find you sat with Newt’s head resting in your lap with your fingers tangled in his hair. And it definitely wasn’t unusual to see you both gazing at one another when you thought the other wasn’t looking. You’d both ignored everyone’s constant teasing over the years because it was blatantly clear to everyone else that you two were in love. Never ‘just friends’.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was towards the end of your second year at Hogwarts and you were stood in front of a very flustered looking Newt, waiting patiently for him to continue his story.

“W-we don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I just thought well-I thought you might like to see ”, Newt stuttered, his gaze darting around wildly as he started to fidget with his sleeves. He thought you might like to see the baby Pygmy Puff that he’d recently found but now he was stood in front of you he was worried he might scare off his one true friend.

You’d been incredibly accepting of his interest in magical creatures and you’d listened to many of his stories in rapt interest but he knew it was an entirely different thing to be faced with one of the creatures in the flesh.

You smiled gently at Newt, making sure you gave him the time to finish talking without interrupting him and when he finally finished rambling you took his hand in your own as if you’d done it a dozen times before. “I’d love to see your new Pygmy Puff, Newt.” you murmured gently, squeezing his hand.

Newt’s eyes widened, his gaze transfixed on your hand wrapped around his and he felt the all too familiar blush in his cheeks, eventually gazing back at you, a wide smile breaking across his own face. Your hand seemed to fit so perfectly in his own. So naturally.

He pulled you out of the common room and through the corridors, the smile never leaving his cheeks and he didn’t let go of your hand once that afternoon.

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

Your 3rd year found you standing in front of Newt with your hand cocked on your hip as you raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re in my seat,” you said disapprovingly.

You’d been sat beside him in the Hufflepuff common room reading through your shared notes for Potions together in preparation for your exam the following day and Newt had obnoxiously taken your seat when you’d left to go to the bathroom.

Newt just smiled back at you smugly and shrugged “it’s my seat now. It’s quite comfortable. And much warmer here by the fire. I can’t believe I’ve settled for that seat all this time,” he teased, trying not to laugh when he saw the pinch of irritation appear on your face.

“Newt move!”, you huffed, folding your arms like a petulant child and glaring at him when he only laughed and gestured to his lean body “make me”.

And you glared at him challengingly for a moment more before you shrugged and smirked slowly “Fine! If you want to be like that I guess we can share,” you said before you sat yourself down sideways in his lap without warning, biting back your own laughter at the scandalised look on his face.

Newt threw his hands up in surprise, his cheeks growing hot as he stuttered in response “Y/N w-what are you doing?”,he breathed out as his heart thumped heavily in his chest.

You just smiled in response and stretched your legs out across the couch where he would usually be sat, slinging one arm around his shoulders for balance and picking your notes back up with your other, starting to read them exactly where you’d left off.

Newt found his arm coming to rest around your back on its own accord as he gazed up at you, his lips slightly parted and he knew then that he stood no chance in that exam the next day because the only thoughts in his head right now were all you.

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

In your 6th year you were spending a weekend of your two week Spring break at the Scamander house as it had become tradition over the last couple of years.

The Scamander family was very accustomed to having you around by now. Newt’s parents were always glad to see the happiness that bubbled up in their youngest son at your presence and Theseus was just glad to have you around because it meant that for once Newt wasn’t rambling on to him about you. Instead he was rambling to you. And even he had to admit that it made him happy to see his brother so at peace.

Theseus had been sent to call you both for afternoon tea and he wandered out into the backyard, expecting to find you both in Newt’s shack when he stopped in his tracks. You were sitting under the cherry blossom tree, leaning back against the trunk of the tree and Newt was sprawled out across the grass with his head in your lap, half asleep with his eyes closed as you brushed your fingers through his hair slowly.

Theseus raised his eyebrows in surprise as he took in the sight of you smiling adoringly down at his younger brother and the the way Newt looked so relaxed there in your arms. It clearly wasn’t a new position for the two of you. He smiled softly to himself and turned around carefully, slipping back into the house as quietly as he could so as not to disturb the two of you.

“They said they’re not hungry just yet.” Theseus called to his mother as he stepped back into the house.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You had always been the first one to initiate almost all physical contact during your days at Hogwarts but ever since that fateful day 2 weeks ago it was as if the roles had been completely reversed.

Suddenly you were a stuttering, flustered mess, barely able to touch Newt without tripping over your words and Newt found it to be utterly adorable and endearing though he was hoping you would get over your nerves soon enough because he really really missed the way you used to cuddle him without hesitation.

“Can we...maybe take this to your bedroom?”, you suggested, nodding towards his room that was just down the hallway and slapping a hand over your face when you realised what you’d said “n-not like that! I just- I just meant we could lay down there and stretch out because-because you look so uncomfortable squished on the couch like this and I just elbowed you and oh my god I’ve just completely ruined the mood”, you whined, covering your face in embarrassment as you willed the ground to swallow you whole.

Newt’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers when you first spoke and he could have sworn his heart actually skipped a beat but then you were sitting there panicking and looking so bloody adorable he was certain his heart skipped a beat.

“Y/N...” he murmured with a small amused smile, waiting patiently when you kept rambling “Y/N”, he tried again and eventually reached out to pull your hands away from your face.

“I knew what you meant”, he smiled softly, doing his best to keep the amusement off his face because the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you further. He pulled your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle and hopefully soothing kiss to the back of it as you watched him shyly, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Come on then”, he murmured, pulling you in the direction of his bedroom and feeling his own nerves start to grow again as he gingerly climbed onto his bed, shuffling over to make room for you. His own nerves were running rampant but he decided to be brave for you, knowing one of you needed to take initiative if you were ever going to get past this awkward phase.

You sat down carefully on the end of Newt’s bed as you looked around the room taking it in properly for the first time, avoiding looking at your boyfriend as you tried to calm your nerves. You tipped your head aside curiously when you spotted a beautiful white and purple flecked orchid sitting on the window sill by his bed and you shuffled towards it, gently brushing your fingers along the petals of the flower in awe. “Did you know some people consider the orchid to be the most beautiful flower in the world?”, you murmured, your nerves momentarily forgotten as you gazed at the elegant flower.

“I know”, Newt murmured softly, watching you fondly as he leant in close to you “it reminded me of you,” he whispered, gazing down at you with a shy smile. You sucked in a quick breath as you took in his words “oh, you mean-“, you flushed when you found his face right in front of yours, seeing the pure adoration and love in his eyes as he nodded at you.

“Yes. I remember you telling me that in school and I remember thinking it was funny because I always thought of you and the first time I ever saw you smile when I saw the flowers in the Greenhouses”, he admitted, humming in surprise when you were suddenly kissing him.

You gripped the front of his shirt as you kissed him firmly, your cheeks warm as your heart thumped erratically in your chest. Newt sighed softly against your lips and gently cupped your cheek in response, moving his lips against yours delicately, unwittingly pouting just slightly when you pulled back from him.

“Merlin Newt, you can’t just say things like that, it’s not good for my heart,” you grumbled, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Newt chuckled softly, his hand flying up to brush his fingers through your hair on its own accord “you are my heart”, he whispered, relishing the way you nestled your face into his neck shyly.

“Newwwwwwt”, you whined to which he hummed, leaning back and slipping his fingertips under your chin to tip your face back up towards him.

“What? I mean it. I love you Y/N. More than anything else in this world. I know you’re nervous about us now that we’ve finally put our feelings out there but I don’t want you to worry. Nothing between us has to change. It can be just like it was before just...just with kisses”, Newt murmured with a slight blush of his own, keeping his gaze locked on yours.

You listened to him carefully, taking in his sincere expression and the look of love and understanding in his eyes and you found yourself nodding along, laying your hand over his and threading your fingers together “I’m sorry I just...I’ve been kinda stressed about not wanting to make you feel pressured. Or be annoying and clingy. I mean I know I’ve always been clingy and overly touchy and affectionate with you but now it’s different I just worry about...about scaring you off.”, you admitted softly, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I’ve always cherished your touch, Y/N. That hasn’t changed and that will never change. You know I’ve always struggled with physical affection with everybody else. I’ve always felt honoured by your affection. You can make my entire day with one single hug.“ Newt squeezed your hands firmly in his own as he leant forward pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head. “Please believe me when I say I’ve never thought you to be clingy.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly and pushed him back onto the bed, laying your head on his chest and claiming your spot nestled in his arms, tangling your legs with his and looking up at him. “I love you too. Even more than my plants.”, you whispered, smiling adoringly back at him though your heart was still beating erratically in your chest.

Newt made a noise of surprise when you suddenly pinned him back onto the bed, his arms wrapping around you instinctively as he felt himself blush from your close proximity. It was entirely a new sensation to hold you in his arms in his bed and he adored it already. “More than your plants?” He teased, rubbing small circles onto your back.

“Yes and I’ll love you even more if you read to me again”, you murmured, holding the book from earlier up to his face and Newt laughed taking it from your hands before he did just like that. And you lay there, resting on his chest and gazing up at him with a dopey smile on your face as you listened to the rumble of his voice in his chest combined with his steady heart beat and eventually falling asleep just like that.

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quirkswriting · 4 years

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iida tenya’s guide to physical intimacy for the socially awkward

Overview: Your boyfriend’s been acting a little strange lately... not that you’re jealous or anything, but what’s gotten into your socially conscious (and easily embarrassed) favourite boy and why is he holding Midoriya’s hand instead of your own? Pairing: Iida Tenya x Reader (Aged up Uni/College AU!) Word Count: 4.7k Warning(s): Swearing, a small hint of jealousy? But not gross jealousy Author’s Notes: This has taken me a ridiculous amount of time to finish but it’s here! Part 3 of the soft cuddle series featuring the lovable dork Iida <3

***

Iida was annoyed. More than annoyed, really, and starting to verge on frustrated. Not quite upset, but heading in that direction. Which is why he was currently pacing back and forth in the living room of his shared apartment with Midoriya and Todoroki. He’d asked them for advice, calling a roommate meeting in their living room to see if they could help him with his problem.

“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet,” Todoroki said, though he didn’t look up from the book he was reading—something for his Conspiracy Theories class, which had Todoroki the most animated Iida had ever seen him when they’d been discussing the chapter on the Mothman at lunch the day before. So either Todoroki didn’t actually care about the rug or he was too into his reading to push it any further (or possibly a combination of both, seeing as they’d used Todoroki’s father’s credit card to furnish their apartment when they’d moved in and he’d just bought whatever item was the most expensive if Iida or Midoriya didn’t step in with a different opinion). Iida kept pacing anyway, while Midoriya came back from the kitchen with his arms full of snacks and drinks.

“So what’s bugging you, Iida?” He asked, sitting next to Todoroki on the couch. He handed the quiet boy beside him a drink before depositing the rest on the coffee table and taking a drink for himself. Iida finally stopped pacing. He sat down on the plush chair opposite the couch, keeping his back straight as he sank down into the cushion as he looked at his friends. Todoroki was still reading his book, now holding a can of pop in one hand and balancing his book in the other, while Midoriya also had his own can of pop and had popped the tab open and was taking a drink. Iida figured that he may as well tell them.

“I’ve failed as a boyfriend,” he said. Midoriya almost immediately started coughing, choking on his drink. Todoroki dropped his book on his lap and began to pound the smaller man on the back to try and help clear his airway. It took almost a minute before Midoriya stopped coughing and gently pushed Todoroki away.

“What do you mean, ‘failed as a boyfriend’?” Midoriya asked, red starting to fade from his face. Iida sighed, slumping his shoulders and resting his hands on his knees.

“I… want to take the next step in my relationship with (Y/N) and I just haven’t been able to do it,” he told his friends, looking down at his sock feet. “I’ve been researching the best methods for physical intimacy. I’ve read all of the books I could find in the library and I’ve tried looking up information online and I’ve learned quite a lot but every time I try and put it into practice it doesn’t work.”

“You’ve been reading books on physical intimacy?” Midoriya asked, and Iida could hear the crack in his voice. Iida felt his own cheeks grow warm as he looked up from his feet to his friends. Midoriya was trying very hard to keep a smile off his face, while Todoroki was clearing his throat—and sounding suspiciously like he was snorting into his hand. It took an embarrassingly long thirty seconds for Iida to realize what they were thinking, and when he did his eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Not that kind of physical intimacy!” Iida said, waving his hands in front of him. That just seemed to amuse his friends even more and he really hoped they never told you that this conversation happened (but given how close you were with Midoriya he really wasn’t going to hold his breath). “I want to, you know, I’d like to initiate… you know, when you see couples? And they’re not being inappropriate but they’re showing more affection than I’m comfortable doing in public, do you know what I mean?” He was gesturing vaguely and his voice was trailing off towards the end of his sentence, but judging by the way Midoriya’s face lit up, Iida knew he’d made some semblance of sense.

“Oh, Iida, you want to be cuddly with (Y/N)! Oh thank goodness, when you said you’d failed as a boyfriend I thought you’d cheated on them,” Midoriya said, scratching the back of his head. Iida started sputtering, but Midoriya held his hands up in front of his face before his glasses wearing friend could say anything. “I know you wouldn’t though! It’s okay! But it’s that kind of physical intimacy. That’s… that’s a really weird way of putting it. You can just call it PDA, you know? Normal people usually do.”

Iida must have looked as confused as he felt, because Todoroki followed up with, “Public displays of affection,” before draping his arm over the back of the couch and just over Midoriya’s shoulders so that his fingertips were ever so slightly brushing the fabric of Midoriya’s shirt. Now it was the green haired young man’s turn to blush a soft pink. Iida couldn’t help raising an eyebrow and Todoroki cleared his throat. “This… is an example. Of that. I’m giving you an example.”

Well, at least now Iida had something to tell you later. That would hopefully cancel out whatever Midoriya was going to tell you had happened at his apartment today.

“Wait, hold on, if you’re not comfortable doing that in public why are you researching it?” Midoriya asked, his face still pink while he made no move to shy away from his roommate. Iida fidgeted slightly in the chair, relaxing his posture just a bit. He’d been raised with certain expectations in place; to be a proper young man, he had to treat his partners with respect and dignity and treasure them where they are meant to be treasured. He was taught to keep private things private, at home, where it was safe and sacred and just that much more intimate because it was shared between the two of them. That’s how his parents had been, a very ‘behind closed doors’ sort of couple. Hell, Iida could count the number of times he’d seen his own parents kiss on one hand! But he knew you’d been raised differently; that for you, casual intimacy was ingrained into who you were—and he wanted to be part of that too. Even if it was slightly unnerving for him.

Thinking about you brought a smile to Iida’s face, and he looked back down at his hands as they sat folded in his lap. “Because… I know (Y/N) would like it. And I want them to be happy.” He could imagine how you’d look, how happy you’d be in his arms at the movies, or with your hands wrapped around his arm while you were walking in the park, or any other scenario from the multitudes of books he’s read and movies he’s watched over the last few weeks. And while the images were perfect in his head... “But every time I try I always manage to mess it up. And then I try harder and I end up making it worse!” Iida dropped his head low and brought his hands up to cover his face.

“I don’t know, maybe… just kinda go with the flow?” Midoriya suggested, and then Iida felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked up into the freckled face of his best friend, who had moved from his spot beside Todoroki to come and sit cross legged on the floor in front of Iida with a smile on his face. “Just do what feels natural. Or, you know, don’t try so hard with (Y/N). Literally everyone knows how much you guys like each other.”

“To quote Bakugou, the two of you are, ‘Absolutely disgusting with all that lovey-dovey bullshit’,” Todoroki piped up, doing a very deadpan impersonation of the hot-tempered blond. Midoriya snorted, and Iida felt himself crack a small smile. Todoroki then continued, “And if Bakugou can tell how much the two of you like each other, then it’s probably a good idea to listen to Midoriya about this. (Y/N) picked you, after all, knowing who you are and how you handle situations. Even after what happened in the dorms on—”

“Todoroki! Do not finish that sentence,” Iida said, waving his hands again. He had absolutely no desire to talk about the reason the three of them were currently required to live in an off campus apartment together. He’d much rather focus on the problem at hand. Midoriya snorted louder this time, and Todoroki went back to his book. “It’s not that I’m doubting my feelings for (Y/N) or their feelings for me, it’s about… it’s about me having no idea how I’m supposed to ‘Go with the flow’ because every time I try I just get so flustered it ends in disaster and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better!”

Todoroki dogeared his page and closed his book once more, letting it rest on his lap. “Practice makes perfect,” he said. “You just have to keep working at it. Eventually you’ll get better. Less stiff. Like when you oil your joints to keep yourself in prime condition.” Midoriya coughed to cover what Iida knew was a laugh, and the blue haired man rolled his eyes.

“Practice with who? There are only so many times I can knock over a table when I go out with (Y/N). We’re running out of restaurants we can go to,” he said. It was starting to become a problem, honestly. He thought for a moment, studying his friends, before an idea started to take shape in his mind. These were his roommates, he trusted them, and they were some of the people who he was most comfortable with aside from you… Maybe this could work. “Unless… I practiced with the two of you?”

“With us? No way!” Midoriya’s eyes were wider than what seemed to be humanly possible, and Todoroki was shaking his head. Iida moved from his chair to come and kneel in front of his friends and place his hands on their shoulders.

Iida looked between his friends, his lips set in a firm line. “Think of (Y/N)! Do it for them!” He encouraged them. “Please? You’re the only ones who can help me now.” There was a tense silence for a moment as Midoriya and Todoroki looked to each other and communicated silently. Todoroki broke eye contact first, and his brows were furrowed as he turned to stare Iida down.

“No one tells anyone that we’re doing this,” Todoroki said, and Iida knew he’d won.

Now all he had to do was put his research into practice. And hopefully not cover his friends in their food when he tried.

——

You walked into one of the coffee shops on campus, the cozy one beside the library (not the overpriced one next to the dorms or the super busy one in the community centre) on your way to get some studying done. Your afternoon class was cancelled (Professor Nemuri had emailed the class halfway through your last lecture and you almost cried out of pure relief) and with two tests and a paper due next week you were going to make the most of the time you had. Or, well, you’d try and that was the best you could really do. But you had your headphones in as you got in line to order, you thought of one way you could try and keep yourself on track; invite your boyfriend to come and study with you. You knew his class schedule and he didn’t have anything this afternoon so he might be willing to help you get more done than you would on your own. So you took your phone out of your pocket, moving forward as the person in front of you got closer to the counter, and typed out a message.

‘Hey, my afternoon class got cancelled, wanna come study with me in the library? Study snacks are on me this time!’ you sent, and just like usual you had a response almost right away.

‘Ah, I’m sorry to hear about that (Y/N)! I would be more than happy to study with you this weekend, but I’m afraid I have plans today.’ You frowned, but you knew it was a little last minute anyway. And only your boyfriend would be sad to hear that class was cancelled. You sent off a few sad faces but told him that it was okay, and put your phone back in your pocket. The line moved forward again, and you couldn’t help but look around the coffee shop while you waited. There wasn’t anything too interesting happening at the occupied tables and you almost sighed out loud before you noticed a familiar mop of red and white hair in the back on the side opposite you.

There he was, Tenya Iida, your socially conservative boyfriend, practically cuddled up with his roommates (and your friends) Midoriya and Todoroki in a small booth on the other side of the coffee shop. If any of them looked up and over they would definitely see you, but they seemed to be pretty engrossed in whatever they were talking about so you doubted they’d notice unless you caught their attention. You wished you were a little closer so you could hear what they were saying.

You saw Tenya, the pink flush on his cheeks visible even though he was on the other side of the coffee shop, hesitantly reach over and place his hand on top of Midoriya’s own. You could swear your own jaw dropped and your mouth hung open while you watched. You felt a small pang in your chest watching him hold Midoriya’s hand, and you bit your bottom lip. Tenya was allowed to do whatever he wanted, he was his own person and you trusted him, but seeing him openly affectionate with Midoriya? In public? When you knew how private your boyfriend was and how uncomfortable PDA made him? Your mind was swirling with questions that you absolutely wanted answers to and as much as you were going to deny it, you were just a tiny bit jealous. But you definitely didn’t take any pleasure when, not even a moment later, something Todoroki said caused Tenya to jump and his drink to spill down his front. Nope, no pleasure at all (But you’d remember to give him some stain remover next time you saw him).

You heard someone clear their throat, and you turned from the sight capturing your attention to see the cashier looking expectantly at you. You moved forward, scratching at the side of your neck as you placed your order and paid for it. You moved off to the side and waited patiently for the barista to finish preparing your drink for you—they were as quick as usual, and you couldn’t help but look back to where your boyfriend and his roommates were sitting as you were leaving. They looked completely normal now, no evidence anything had happened except for a small pile of napkins you could see at the edge of the table. You pursed your lips as you left and headed to the library.

But even after you’d secured a table and laid everything out to attempt to have a productive afternoon (before falling victim to Netflix) you couldn’t get the image out of your head and the more you thought about it, the less sense it made. You’d long given up on your test prep and had been staring at a blank laptop screen for the last half hour. Or, well, it felt like half an hour (but had only been about seven minutes). This was going to be a long afternoon and it had only just begun.

Just what the hell had happened?

——

You caught Tenya with Midoriya and Todoroki once again, a few days later, when you were picking up dinner in the dining hall for you and Tsuyu. The two of you were going to binge a new anime together and it was your turn to grab food while she was getting everything set up for your hangout session tonight.

It was the same kind of thing this time, except instead of holding Midoriya’s hand Tenya was attempting to put his arm around Todoroki’a shoulders. It looked so awkward and yet so endearing, but that didn’t stop you frowning. You felt your stomach twist and turn as you wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched your boyfriend talk and laugh and look so much more comfortable and relaxed than you’d ever seen him in public. You couldn’t write this off as a one time thing (which is what you’d done with the coffee shop incident, and was how you justified not talking to him about it before now) because he just looked so natural sitting there.

Part of you really wanted to walk up to them and find out what the hell was going on, but you didn’t. Tsuyu was waiting, after all, and the rational part of you argued that there had to be a good explanation for all of this. Plus, even if it wasn’t with you, seeing your normally stiff boyfriend so relaxed was something that made you the tiniest bit happy. So, with the knots still stretching and twisting your stomach, you went and grabbed the requested food and spent your night with your roommate. There had to be some kind of logical explanation… right?

——

Things finally came to head about a week later when you and Tenya were spending a Saturday night in your apartment. Tsuyu was out with her girlfriend so you had the place to yourself, and you’d invited Tenya over for dinner to spend time together. And, if you could figure out the right way to word it, to find out why he’d been acting so strange with his roommates.

The two of you made dinner together—or, well, you threw whatever leftovers were in your fridge together to make a semi-decent meal so you wouldn’t have to order in again while the two of you decided on something to watch on Netflix. You’d kept yourself busy from the moment you’d buzzed him up, pouring drinks and getting food ready and only speaking to ask him to hand you something or answer something he asked. Tenya kept moving closer to you, but you kept finding reasons to move away from him; until you figured out how you were going to ask him why he was suddenly cuddle buddies with his roommate, you didn’t want to risk letting him see any kind of physical indicator that you were jealous… er, not jealous, but curious. That’s what you were telling yourself.

You managed to get dinner cooked (and the parts you made were actually pretty tasty this time) and the two of you sunk down into the living room couch to watch a movie (because Tenya refused to let you eat in bed so you had to make do until your food was finished) with Tenya occupying the middle and you claiming your favourite side of the couch and the best mismatched pillows to curl up with. The two of you had finally settled on Whisper of the Heart with a promise of watching Avatar later on (“I must find out what happens at the Boiling Rock, (Y/N)!”) after you’d finished eating. But you didn’t even make it ten minutes into the movie before Tenya was placing his plate on the coffee table in front of you both.

“I can tell something is bothering you,” Tenya said. You pursed your lips but didn’t say anything, and he sighed. “Please tell me what’s going on. Is it your paper? I meant it when I said your conclusion was beautifully written, and I’m sure Professor Yamada is going to agree with me.”

Well, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to broach the subject if you tried. You put your own plate down on the coffee table as well (balancing it on your lap was probably not a good idea this time) and turned to face your boyfriend before you opened your mouth and words started rumbling out. “Look, I know that it’s none of my business and I have no idea what was going on but I saw what you were doing with Midoriya and Todoroki,” you said. You began twisting your hands in your lap. Tenya brought his own hand up to cover his mouth as he stared at you. “In the coffee shop, Tenya. And then again in the dining hall in the community centre. I saw you guys… you know. Being a lot closer in public than I’ve ever seen you before with anyone and it’s just been bugging me, Tenya, because you told me you don’t like that stuff.”

“...it was for you,” he admitted. His voice was quiet, and he’d moved his hand down to rest on his chin. His body slumped forward, and you watched your boyfriend’s shoulders sag even further than they already were. You shifted closer to him, scooting a little farther down the couch.

“I don’t get it.” You were a little unclear as to what you had to do with him holding someone else’s hand in public. Especially because it was someone else’s hand, not yours. Tenya sighed.

“Look, what I mean to say is… they were helping me practice. For you,” he told you, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. You knew your eyebrows were up near your hairline, and his slowly reddening cheeks exposed just how embarrassed he was. “I wanted to be more comfortable showing you affection in public and Midoriya and Todoroki were helping me do that. So I could be a better boyfriend for you and show you the affection I know you want and deserve. And so I can stop knocking tables over when we go out.” That got a small laugh out of you, and you saw some of the tension slip out of Tenya’s shoulders as he sat up and relaxed against the back of the couch.

“You’re already the best boyfriend I could ask for,” you told him, and you held your hand out towards him with your palm up. He placed his own on top of it and threaded your fingers together before giving it a light squeeze. “Just because you’d rather be cuddly in private doesn’t mean I think you’re a bad boyfriend. I want to respect your boundaries too. But it’s really sweet that you want to do that for me, even if you did use Midoriya and Todoroki to help you do that. In public. Where I saw you.”

Tenya tilted his head to the side, his eyes studying your expression carefully, before a smile started turning the corners of his lips up. “Were you jealous, love?” he asked, and you avoided his eyes. He squeezed your hand again and brought it up to his lips. That got you to look at him, and he pressed a soft kiss to each of your knuckles. “Midoriya’s hand wasn’t even close to being as nice as yours. His were a little chapped, I’m worried about them. Maybe you should get him some of that lotion you use for his birthday.”

This was the Tenya you knew in private, who did enjoy showing you love and care and affection (you know, once you’d both passed the whole awkward first stage of dating and he realized that you were in it for the long term with him, even after the Spider Incident™ and the boys in his year being asked to move into private residences) and you couldn’t help but lean closer to him and curl up next to his side. It was ridiculously sweet that he’d done that for you.

And, of course, now that you’d both talked it out you decided it was time to have a little fun with him. “So that was why you’ve been so weird lately? I thought midterms had caused your wires to get crossed,” you said. You smiled at him while he rolled his eyes. “Or maybe the coffee you spilled on yourself fried your motherboard.”

“Oh you’re very original, (Y/N), so funny,” he said. “I’ll have you know I got that stain out, thank you. And it was tea, you know I don’t drink coffee.” Which, as someone who enjoyed 8am lectures, you had literally no idea how he survived on tea and water. Your boyfriend was definitely some kind of robot. You had yet to prove it, but no one could function as well as he did and not be at least part machine (not that you minded, exactly).

“We really should get you a waterproof case. Maybe an otterbox? They come in all sorts of cute colours,” you told him, reaching forward to grab your plate. Dinner was probably lukewarm at best at this point, but you’d eat it either way with minimal complaining. Tenya did the same with his plate, a smile on his face as he stayed close to you—but still made sure there was enough room so you didn’t elbow each other.

You both ate in comfortable silence for a moment, before another thought occurred to you. “You know, I only saw you and the boys twice… just how long did this go on for?” you asked, and Tenya cleared his throat and grabbed the remote to play the movie. You tried to grab it, but he moved it out of reach and, not wanting to risk dropping your dinner, you elbowed him in the side before he played the movie and turned the volume up loud enough to ensure silence, at least for a little while.

You got an answer out of him later, when the two of you were laying in bed watching some life changing field trips with Zuko, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for the man with his arms wrapped around you and whispering a million and one questions about how the Fire Nation prison and law enforcement systems must work because all he wanted was for you to be happy. You’d never want to ask for anything more.

——

Bonus! Epilogue:

You and Tenya were out for lunch on campus with Midoriya and Todoroki a few days later, your boyfriend proudly holding your hand above the table as you talked about funny stories from Midoriya’s EMR course (“Professor Shuzenji asked us what we would do when we respond to a call and find someone with a stab wound and someone seriously shouted ‘Call 911!’ and she actually yelled back ‘YOU ARE 911!’”) and you couldn’t help but smile and be thankful for your boyfriend and your friends and how lucky you are. But as the conversation dwindled, you also knew some words were in order with the two men across from you and Tenya.

“So Tenya told me what you guys were doing. You know, how you were canoodling my boyfriend,” you told the two of them, and you couldn’t help snorting just a little when Midoriya started sputtering and Todoroki dropped his chopsticks.

“We agreed we wouldn’t tell anyone!” Midoriya said, looking at Tenya with his brows furrowed and his mouth pulled down into a frown. You could feel Tenya’s shoulders shake next to you, and it made the smile on your face get even bigger.

“Hey, we were doing it to help you,” Todoroki said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Iida asked us, if I remember correctly, and we were trying to be good friends.” Tenya shrugged, putting his free hand in the air.

“Yeah he did, but you still agreed to it. And I know you guys and I know you had to be making fun of him too. So if I’m gonna poke fun at him for it then it’s only fair you guys get some of that too,” you said. You leaned forward in your seat, smiling at the green haired male, and then at the two-toned Todoroki in front of you. “So who are we going to start with first? Clammy hands Todoroki, or Midoriya ‘I don’t know how to take care of my skin’ Izuku?” And then you started cackling loudly as they started to protest and draw the attention of everyone else at nearby tables.

Oh, this was going to entertain you for a long time and you were going to love every minute of it.

#iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #iida tenya x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fic #bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #reader insert #x reader #university au #college au #let me know what you think!

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parcoeurs · 3 years

Note

Extremely fascinated by your wag AU tag 👀.

thanks bestie so am i.

okay lmao so this isn't an actual fic that'll ever be written but. i was talking to my friend about it who still hasn't finished dts season 3 unfortunately but it means that i've switched around ages and years etc. i promise this has the potential to be a fun and sexy time but there's just s o much background shit that needs to be discussed. tw for mentions of irl deaths etc:

but pierre & charles meeting when they're 5-6 (which is what i think charles actually says irl but someone said it might've been closer to when they were 10-11? regardless.) and charles' dad passes away when they're 9-10, and jules when they're 13-14 and charles quits racing then. (fyi i know that irl jules passed away first)

he thinks about quitting when his dad passes away but keeps going with help from jules. so when the accident etc happens, it's not even like an active decision he ponders. he just knows there's no way he'll race again.

and pierre's been with him throughout everything, his best friend who he can talk to when he can't bear looking at his own family. so he doesn't understand when pierre tells him he's going to keep racing. when charles had told him he was never going to get into a kart ever again, pierre had nodded, grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. important to note that they're barely teenagers rn so yes charles feels betrayed that pierre isn't feeling the same things he is and isn't choosing the same future for himself etc.

they have a huge fight, lots of crying, lots of dramatic teenage angst. but it ultimately ends with charles shutting pierre out of his life. which is easier said than done when it's your best friend whose family is super close with yours. but it works because pierre is off racing around the world and charles has done all he can to never have to think about that stuff.

so charles goes to school, is doing uni somewhere in europe. studies something generic like business or maybe if i'm feeling suuuuper indulgent i will have him major in environmental studies like moi <3 pointedly does not come to monaco during grand prix weekend or the week before or the week after.

and then anthoine passes away too. (they're 20-21 now)

they see each other again at the funeral but don't talk, they meet up afterwards. pierre breaking down in charles' arms, clutching at his back, telling him he was right. pierre should've quit, he can't do this anymore either. they haven't said a word to each other in 7 years but charles still knows pierre, and knows that this isn't actually what pierre wants. or what he should do. (charles vaguely knows pierre's in f1 but doesn't know he's with redbull, doesn't know redbull's the top team etc)

"you can still do this, you will," charles tells him.

"not without you again."

so then comes the challenge of mending their relationship while still working through the shared trauma, and the Layers of past trauma. and also just the general awkwardness that comes with a friendship breakup/makeup situation you know! they can't just act like nothing happened but would it be easier that way?

they start texting first, then they play fifa or cod together. (sometimes pierre's british friend lewis joins too.)

slowly slowly slowly, they become friends again and then inseparable too. maybe even closer than they were before and charles only now realizes how much he missed pierre. while pierre still can't believe he has charles back now, it's as good as he let himself imagine.

the part i'm unsure about is if i would want pierre's career trajectory to be the same or not. because i think the demotion adds SUCH a painful but interesting aspect to his ~storyline. but ultimately i think maybe he just doesn't get the second seat immediately. spends more years with toro rosso/alpha tauri before getting "called up" (sorry i have no idea what the proper terminology is haha ignore the nba/nhl terms).

he invites charles to his first race in the red bull and charles says no. immediately. pierre's quiet on the other side of the phone, internally thinking he messed this up somehow. he thought things were going well and he takes this as charles doesn't want to see him. but he knows there's a lot more that's stopping charles and he also knows charles will definitely pull back if pierre asks about the other stuff. so he moves right along, asking charles about school, the weather, and tries not to let it show in his voice that he misses his best friend and needs him too.

"i'm going to try to watch," charles says, after pierre's yawned goodnight through the phone and is waiting for him to hang up. because you know pierre's not going to hang up first.

"what?"

"the race. i'm going to try. goodnight!" mentally charles slams the phone shut but really he just smashes at the red button before shoving it under his bed and looking at his hands trying to get answers for what he just did.

his only relief is that he didn't promise pierre he would watch, just that he would try. couldn't even choke out a, "good luck." (insert long paragraph about charles letting pierre down or thinking he has).

he only watches qualifying. pierre p3. already knows on saturday that there's no way he can watch the actual race.

but on sunday when he's supposed to be going over his notes for his climate change science & policy course (yes.... i did it...) he finds himself with his heart in his mouth refreshing formula1 dot com. watches the random names move up and down while keeping his eyes on 10 - gasly. (starts shaking for a second when he sees pierre's name drop until the IN PIT sign comes up across his name. fellas the thing about triggers is-- anyways.)

the scariest part is that by the time he's scrolled through all of red bull's socials to look at pictures of pierre on the podium (he finished p2 sorry i know this truly does not matter), he's forgotten about the race. the anxiety sits small in the back of his throat, his happiness for pierre is bright and loud in front of him. charles sends him a message, asking him to call whenever he can and adds a blue & red heart emoji which feels like a Big Step. but basically pierre calls and acts like nothing has happened since the last time they talked. mentions the breakfast he had in detail as if he didn’t get a podium in his first race with red bull. finally with a big team. but charles embarrassingly realizes that maybe his text didn't exactly imply in literally any way whatsoever that he knows the results of the race and was trying to congratulate pierre with this call. charles probably feels so embarrassed at this point but somehow still can't manage to say anything about the race until the next day maybe.

maybe texts pierre, good job. or, you were great. or something about him and not the race. or maybe reposts a picture from red bull but not one of pierre in his car, pointedly. only one of him on the podium. and pierre probably reposts it with the squid emoji and/or my favourite sentence in the world, merci petit calamaro.

charles cries when he reads it.

not to be lazy now but [insert 10k words of them building their friendship. meeting up in monaco with both of their families. meeting in milan or london or paris idk where pierre would live. but he flies charles out. not on a private jet because charles flat out refused lol. not because he's an environmentally conscious king he's just too, embarrassed? overwhelmed? by pierre doing Things Like That for him. even though he wants it lol. like when he graduates he's soooo annoyed that pierre couldn't come celebrate immediately because it was race week. but when he comes home his apartment is filled with flowers (roses, his favourite) and balloons and a giant teddy bear as tall as charles. and he DOES post 12 instagram stories to go with the other 30 from his other friends congratulating him. so yeah charles goes through a lot of personal growth and therapy. to the point where he's watching pierre race again, and waiting for him to invite him to a race again!!! do not even think about actual dates i'm fucking begging you but the one he goes to is monza :))))]

ultimately charles' path to understand/accepting/moving on from, his trauma, happens once he has pierre back in his life. it's also encouraged by pierre, but it's also not entirely because of him. not sure how to word that but yeah. these things are happening at the same time but charles still has to go through them by himself.

pierre takes him on romantic dates all around the world and charles doesn't realize that's what they are. fully in his bestie vibes only mood while pining for pierre in a way he doesn't even quite understand. almost a self deprecating, jeez whoever gets to date pierre is going to be so lucky :/

fanpage on ig: met pierre's alleged bf he's so pretty and sweet, i complimented his shoes and he was so nice. charles reading that: i didnt know he was dating someone :( why wouldn't he tell me :( well at least someone complimented my shoes today :(

pierre doesn't necessarily think they're dating, but he does know charles doesn't quite realize what they're doing so he's just waiting for him to come to terms with it.

not to give this au 10 different subplots but yeah that miscommunication plot becomes our prize for surviving through the first part of this.

but yeah at the last race of the year, that pierre wins because i said so? charles finds him before he goes on to the podium, kisses his helmet. says i love you, i'm so proud of you.

THEN, finally, charles does become pierre's wag. we made it kids. we did it joe.

#rs #anonymous #asks #1016 #just checked this is 1.7k words i am so so so sorry

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wheresmybuckyhoes · 3 years

Text

Ben Hardy smut part 1

(There will be so much smut** in part 2 but please reblog if you want me to continue this story)

(**Because it’s the only thing you dirty bitches seem to like)

Summary: You meet Ben in your favourite cafe and obviously because this is a fanfic you end up slightly closer than just the distance of a cafe table...

Pairing: Reader x Ben Hardy

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, references to sex

Note from moi: I like the actual story line part not just the seggsy stuff so I took time with this one. Pleaseeee reblog if you want the part 2!!!

‘It was a bright and sunny morning. No, scratch that. It was what you could definitley call a morning’ you thought to yourself as you groaned at the light beams escaping through your curtains, waking you up.

It was one of those hot summer weeks that sound nice in theory; going swimming in the pool with all your mates, drinking milkshakes and having an excuse to dress like a hoe. But you see, there was a few problems with this. Firstly, you lived in a small apartment in central London, with a large kitchen which shared the same space as the living room, 1 bedroom and 1 bathroom. So not exactly capable of having a swimming pool. Secondly, you had no friends. That’s not to say people didn’t want to be your friend. You had many people trying to befriend you daily, but you preferred to be alone.

You literally rolled out of bed, falling on floor and sighing. You carefully stood up and threw on a short, white, lace sundress paired with high heels to make you seem slightly taller than the 5’’2 length your body stretched to. You grabbed your keys, special Gucci sunglasses and headed out to your favourite cafe.

The cafe was a 5 minute walk from your flat. You loved going there as the coffee and tea was divine and you were supporting a local business rather than another overpriced chain. It also felt more personal, as you went there almost everyday and the baristas knew your name and orders.

When you got there, you noticed it to be more busy than usual. You pushed through the door as it caused the little bell to ring, and walked up to the ordering till to get your usual iced coffee. Max was serving today, and although he was quite new, he had already perfected your order. You smiled at him as he nodded and immediately began work on your usual. You payed at the till and patiently waited. ‘Thank you darling’ you thanked Max as he handed you the cold drink. You spun around to scan the cafe for a place to sit. There seemed to be no empty tables. You awkwardly looked around until you heard a deep voice from the corner of the cafe. ‘You can sit here if ya want’ said the deep voice.

You spun around to see a handsome blonde sitting on a table for 2, alone, smiling at you. You shrugged and came over to the sit beside him, placing your coffee down on the wooden table. ‘Thank you! I thought I was just going to have to stand awkwardly there’ you said, taking in the sheer beauty of this man’s face. ‘S’alright love. What brings you here?’ he asked as though he was geniounly interested, not just to make small talk. ‘Oh well, I live a small walk from here and I always get coffee before work and I love this place’ you replied, sipping your coffee and removing your sunglasses. ‘What about you?’

‘I have a small acting gig around here and thought I’d grab a bite before’ he said, gesturing to his half eaten croissant. ‘I love acting. I was in a few things myself when I was younger, but I decided to move to work in fashion after uni’ you replied. You swore you had seen this man before somewhere. ‘I can tell your into fashion’ he smirked, looking you up and down. To be honest, you were gorgeous. Your skin was bronzed from the summer sun, you had glowing hazel eyes that shone in the sun, paired with dark hair which fell down your shoulders in waves.

‘Oh yeah? How come’ you asked innocently, slightly leaning in to him from across the table.

Next thing you know, you’re both in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers tangled in your hair, lips crashing together hungrily. You pull back for a moment biting your lip. He looks deep into your eyes, brushing a lose strand of hair behind your ear. ‘So what’s your name?’ you ask breathlessly as he leans in to kiss your neck, leaving behind hickeys to last for days. ‘Ben. Ben Hardy’ he replied as you felt his hands slide from your legs to your bum.

You quickly pulled away and unwrapped your legs from his waist, backing away, eyes wide. ‘Wait. As in THE Ben Hardy from bohemian rhapsody and xmen. How did I not recognise you. W..why are you kissing me? Why.. WHAT?’ you managed to word vomit out as you felt yourself getting flustered. ‘Look...’ he began but trailed off, giving you a questioning look. ‘Oh it’s y/n’ you mumbled. ‘Look y/n your really pretty and you seem so nice and it’s a change from all the girls who like me just because I’m supposedly famous y’know?’ he explained as he pulled you in close by your waist, kissing you softly.

It’s not like this was new to you. Due to your fear of relationships, you had many one night stands and flings, but never stayed for long. So, fuck it I guess (literally). As your kisses deepened, getting more erotic and sloppy, you felt Ben nudge you towards one of the bathroom stalls. Tongues still in each other’s mouths, you both clambered hurriedly into the stall, locking it behind you.

You felt his hands begin to explore your body, tracing down you hips to your bum, up to your breasts and back down to your waist. He pushed you against the door, pushing his knee in between your legs. You felt a smirk against your lips as you let slip a small moan. God he was good. Suddenly you pulled away. ‘Shit Ben, I don’t have condoms I keep them in my drawer at home not my dress pockets!’ you moaned in annoyance. ‘Well that’s ok love, we can go back to yours’ he replied smoothly, trailing his fingers down your cheek, across your lip. You just wanted to melt right there. You mulled this over for a second. Taking him back may mean something more than just a meaningless fling, but your in too deep not to fuck him now so you guess...

‘Sounds good to me’

#queen #ben hardy #ben hardy x female reader #Ben #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #cafe #boujee #smut #fanfic #ben hardy fanfic #Roger taylor

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

honestly i could talk w band!hobi abt numbers all day, like i wouldn't even mind. what are ur thoughts on 27 hobi? i think they a bad bitch. also UM might i request a drabble abt like a film major! yn (that is very enthusiastic abt films and the aesthetics + cinematography and whatnot) w like,,, a theatre kid?? any of ot7 works fine and it's all good if u can't or don't want to! thankyouu 💜

muse of mine

pairing: namjoon x y/n

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: namjoon’s always been a little sensitive to feedback whether it’s positive or negative, y/n’s an endearing type of talker, and smuggled snacks to the theater haven’t ever tasted this sweet :D // gif from pinterest!

notes: i kinda switched it up a lil bit and made them more established in their respective fields bc my mind went berserk on this concept!!! also this is mayhaps my oNLY piece that’s just pure fluff

“27? The number? Hmm. That sounds... sexy.” - band!hobi

this been’s bugging you for the past half hour

this whole experience feels oddly familiar

you’ve been in this theater for half an hour so far to watch this play!!

lmao ur gonna admit RIGHT off the bat that theatre’s definitely not it for you

your slight unfondness for it is deeply-rooted back to university and for four years, you’ve consistently taken dumps on theatre kids even if it’s under your breath

alright it’s possible that you don’t hATE the actual people ( only some of them ;D ) themselves but rather this whole type of cockiness and the “i’m a direct descendant of shakespeare himself. trust me bro. on god” energy that they always seem to exhude

but realistically, maybe this deep-rooted hate stemmed from seokjin

he was the guy you’d share the exact same elective class with him for two straight whole semesters and you’ve been seatmates from time to time

homie took foreign language as an elective?????

the language is korean?????????????????

“wait b-but i — aren’t you — n-no but i really???”

that’s what you first sputtered to him in realization when he took his seat beside you

the two of you have only ever shown each other notes bc the other was dozing off and the occasional sharing of gummy bears that’s already pre-opened to not make any noise

but for some reason, it’s only dawned in you why seokjin’s a god in this class and he answers your questions without even looking at his notes by hALFWAY through the whole semester of foreign language

one day, u are gonna find a way to bodyslam yourself and never recover from it ever again

“mhmm. don’t sweat it, sweetheart. i personally think it’s very don quixote of me to y’know, take something as impractical and amusing as this.”

you snort at his choice of words because honestly!! you barely remember don quixote and jin’s use of it as an adjective jigs up a refresher course on your brain

who was he again??

was he the donkey

.. or are you thinking about shrek again because of your film analysis

you sWEAR there was a donkey in that story

it’s good fun to talk with jin even if he keeps sliding bourgeoisie words here and there and you’re a lil confused with all these references that he makes but that’s okay !!!

atleast even him saying it in a long-winded way that he was like someone from the merchant of somewhere, you know now that he pretty-pleased and charmed his way to the registrar for him to take korean as an elective

...

two weeks later, jin sits next to you in class

in ACTUAL non-elective, non-native language he already speaks class

now that you’re squinting a bit more, jin does look a little uh?? different

his hair that was once a hybrid of lavender and peach and pink and then blonde was now wholly black and it’s probably his original hair color because it matches with those eyebrows of his!!!

his combo of a black bomber jacket with a silk button-up underneath honestly SLAPS and it makes you forget how he used to exclusively wear only knitted shirts and argyle-patterned cardigans

you have ur jaw dropped because you totally would’ve fallen for seokjin jAW-FIRST

— if only he didn’t strike you as the brother type when he smacked the back of your head because you were falling asleep on class again and uhhh you mUst be forgetting that the two of you were sitting in front

you had no time to reevaluate whether you should develop a crush for him or not

he’s immediately slapping his hands on his knees, looking at you so intensely before pointing a finger at you with so much conviction, and then scoffing to himself

“switched majors to film. theatre was gonna be the death of me!!! y/n, if you even think about trying to switch to that cheap, amazon-ordered quill and tanning lights for stage lighting major, you’re absolutely dEAD to me-”

you’ve never had a conversation this striking nor long with jin but you genuinely have no complaints at all

seokjin talks pure shit about theatre and theatre junkies and everything in between for the WHOLE day

trails beside you for every single class you had, which was convenient because he can then sweet-talk his way again (if anybody even dared to question him) that he’s just newly-switched

sat with you for lunch and him not eating because he just needS to tell you all about it and you trying not to choke on your pasta as you try to reply to him

followed you back hOME and decided to crash the night there

yeah, that. your unfondness for theatre’s rooted on that one

uh-huh safe to say that you’ve become best friends with jin ever since that day

you’re a sponge for your friends and jin’s the closest one you have, so it was only natural that you soak up his distastes and whatnot

not to brag but aha :D

you add salt to the water while you boil pasta so u may be a little bit of a masterchef or somewhat, no big deal :D

he’s absorbed your fascination for all kinds of lights and fixtures that he has about seven different nightlights in the form of squishies or neon and everything else on his bedside table, in which he turns all of them on at night

fun fact: he’s capable of sleeping in the dark

jin’s the whole reason for your stance on this

he’s adamant about his points and you’ve graduated uni four years ago!!!

which is why you DON’T get why jin would give you a scented black envelope, with “don’t come to this” scribbled in gold at the front, carrying a single ticket to this play with a sticky note saying “don’t watch this at 7 pm, wearing your boss lady year-end award show type of clothes, sitting at the ninth row from the back and two seats from your right.”

because of course!! what the hell did he expect you to do? NOT come to this play at 7 pm wearing your boss lady year-end award show type of clothes then sitting at the ninth row from the back, two seats from the right???

OF COURSE YOU WOULD

your goal in life is to do exactly the opposite of what jin tells you. there’s literally nothing else in life you’d want to fulfill

he’s made it quite easy for you to spite him and although you wouldn’t admit it.,,.,., you may be a little petty ok

he’s the even bigger goof out of the two of you and you can never have the final say!! it’s always him and his wit and yOU being the dunce

it’s a lil sus that jin’s basically ASKING for it with his instructions but whatever

whatever it is, this is finally your chance to enact the final say and you’re gonna pull ALL the stops

all you know about theater-goers is that they dress fancy and wear these mini binoculars and that’s about it

there’s not even one film you know that you see anyone in the audience wearing a worn-in cardigan or even a puffer jacket even if the theater’s mad cold

all the people bring are scarves and shawls???? thee thinnest version of a blanket that won’t warm them up against the frigid airconditioning

that whole dress code sounds ridiculous!!! great please ring out this thousand-dollar dress im gonna wear to the theater thank u

you’re a little worried that you’re not gonna blend into the crowd, but after some digging about the invitation, formal wear is most definitely recommended

it’s an exclusive invite-only play which would be later released to the general public later on so yeah the situation dOES call for a gown thank u very much

also how could you forget that jin explicitly told you not to wear this type of attire

if you’re being humble right now, which you always normally are, even if that jUST sounded boastful talking about how you’re humble all the time —

you do look pretty breath-taking :-)

even when the doors weren’t opened and everyone’s just collectively loitering outside the hall, you’d feel glances at you

the sweet security guard did a double-take at you and mumbled a “very very nice evening to you, miss :D” instead of his normal “enjoy the show!” to the other patrons before you

you’re gonna soak all the silent compliments up and try to remember all of them before writing them on your journal later hee-hee

your midnight blue satin dress that’s floor-length and off-shoulder is dEFINITELY in your favor :D

your dress still glimmers even if the spotlight isn’t on you and you wish you weren’t shy to ask a random stranger to take a picture of you

going on self-timer isn’t ideal either when there’s like a hundred other people in the room

they probably wouldn’t even care if you took a picture of yourself!!! but in your head they probably think that you’re laughable so you’d rather not.. do that

the theater’s dark as hell if that wasn’t established

it is literally pitch black in the room and the ushers at each row holding the flashlights that are meant to guide the patrons aren’t exactly helpful

big kudos to them though,, must take a lot of self-control to not wave their lights like it was a rave :D

a flashlight tHAT bright?? whew pls is this what ships feel in the night

the last time you were in a rave, your thirty minutes of fun was cut short when seokjin immediately got hammered and wouldn’t stop throwing a fit if you didn’t drive him home that instant

his energy seemed to compelling everyone that he’s managed to somehow suck the energy out of a WHOLE rave so you took him home for everyone’s enjoyment :(((( except yours apparently

you’re trying hard to focus on the play that’s happening because for the past twenty minutes, all you’ve done is zone out randomly with ideas all of a sudden

you NEED to listen

....

uh-huh...

UH-HUH......

wait this is actually.. good

you find plays hard to follow and absolutely boring when you don’t immerse yourself in a run-down PRIOR to watching it in order to get

it’s the same analogy as reading the plot of a movie on wikipedia before watching the movie at the cinema.... absolutely useless

it sucks out the fun from something you weren’t supposed to know

watching plays is two hours of you being confused, going home to read the plot and only understand it by tHEN, and never coming to the theater again because you’d waste your money.... watching something cluelessly in the theater..... for a plot you’d grasp at home

but no

because this one

actually this one that you’re watching...

it’s not bad

it’s nice, actually.

within two minutes, you managed to grasp that it’s a story about a never-ending spring between these two lovers

there’s something about the whole setting of it actually that just sucks you in

in some plays, the outfits would seem so forced even in the given context that it reminds you of uh a particular superhero movie

and yes ur aware that stage makeup has to be enhanced so that people all the way to the back row would see

but there’s just something in this scene that’s laid out right-now that actually gets you in awe

it’s of the couple in the back of their pick-up truck and everything about it seems so natural

the background straight up looks like what it’d be if you were to go outside

the guy’s arm around her shoulder seems so natural and in nature that it doesn’t feel like a random cue in the script

the girl twinkles and it doesn’t even feel like a forced type of laugh you’d cue in attempt to warm the audience’s hearts

it’s of a plot where the the guy eventually falls out of love with the girl, while girl gets even more smitten with the guy at the same time

it’s what you take from the past ten minutes that you watch in dead silence, and you don’t even remember in the back of your head that you’re supposed to hate plays

“no way.”

you mumble in disbelief under your breath, head shaking profusely

is your mind playing tricks on you???

you’ve got too used to seokjin sitting beside you that you immediately turn to your right, whispering out your concerns

“is it just me or is she wearing a different shade of pink?”

you don’t even buffer for one second when you ask the stranger beside you

you’re so concerned that you’re looking at him intently while waiting for his answer that could either console or despair you, a random theater-goer that’s too noisy with her questions for her own good

it’s absolutely dARK as fuck in the theater but after awhile your eyes adjusted slightly

and the first thing you look at after the stage is him

him as in the dude in your right that you just asked all of a sudden

you could only see his silhouette and the faintest features of his face along with his well-dressed suit but god

... you are totally not lying if you say that even the barest silhouette of him doesn’t look handsome

you’re expecting him to tell you off for being so noisy but instead, he’s the one who takes you by surprise

“how did you notice that?”

“oh my god!” you exclaim almost too loudly that you yourself even jolts, the guy even making you duck with him slightly for a brief second, “im sO sorry!! am i accidentally spoiling it out for you?”

the guy blinks twice, lips slightly parted before shaking his head no

“no, no... this is the first screening — i mean uh, how would you know that?”

oh boy

you’re adjusting yourself on your seat, bum now warm as you try to explain and not be nervous because what if you just made a wrong assumption about this play and you’re sitting next to a goddamn tHEATRE BUFF???

“well i —uh, uhm what’s your name?” you’re flustered and the FIRST thing you ask is what was his name.,.,,

he seems equally as flustered before he adjusts his glasses, “o-oh uhm i’m namjoon...?”

alright! handsome guy is namjoon!

“you see, namjoon — okay it might just be in my head, but i tHINK it looks deeper with the light somehow. but uh...? the spotlight’s not following her and — is it just me or without the light, her sweater looks brown?”

you’re squinting and if u squint even more, maybe your contacts would just crumple by then

hold on a second

“brown, like — oh my gOD LIKE-”

namjoon puts a hand over his mouth before you could even gasp, hand reaching out for your forearm even before you manage to grasp his shoulder to take it in realization

was it under your nose the whole time??

“... fall.”

holy fucking shit

namjoon looks positively euphoric looking at your face of realization, his once-heavy chest about the whole scene becoming completely devoid of weight

“exactly!!”

his confirmation makes you inwardly squeal, grinning as you point at him and the stage back and forth

“i think this is the first play i’ve become ever interested in watching.”

okay what now

his ears perk up at that, your first sentence that you’ve said after your pink sweater that looks like spring also looks brown like fall in certain scene because of the lighting realization

“it is?”

he takes the chance to look at you as best as he could, trying to play his squinting as cool as he can

namjoon’s far sighted and the glasses he’s wearing are nOT up to date with his current grade bc he’s pretty sure his eyesight’s worsened the past month

he can’t make you out wholly, but he does know that you’re pretty

his eyes don’t linger on you because of the snacks you’re fishing from your purse while you talk that are absolutely illegal in this theater house lmao

but instead, his gaze lingers on you because you’re so pretty

the minimal light that’s bouncing off the stage is enough for him to see a faint outline of your features, highlighting your smiles just right and your dress to glint underneath

“mhmm. i actually hate plays,” suddenly, you’re not scared if namjoon happens to be some sort of theatre buff and you’re offending him because honestly, you feel at ease. “crunch?” you’re holding out the mini bar of chocolate out to him, one he politely declines to because his eyes are bulging out the next second

“you do????”

his genuine reaction indulges you, making you grin ultimately that you put off eating snacks for now to focus on him

“yeah! this is my hate outfit :D”

namjoon giggles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard

you automatically scoot closer because this time, it’s yOUR turn to shush him

this is totally for just the reason of talking more discreetly and not distracting anyone and is totally not an excuse to be closer to the next guy and touch shoulders with him then get a whiff of cologne because it’s rare for a guy to be handsome and aLSO smell good

your eyes get used to the darkness and eventually, you could make out features of namjoon beside you

he has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen

and the way he looks at you makes you feel safe and even your height difference is visible with how probably lonG his torso is compared to yours, his gaze doesn’t make you feel small

namjoon’s still (unsurprisingly) far-sighted and ur so close that he’s a lil cross-eyed

fuck it he’s gonna go to ophthalmologist FIRST thing in the morning tomorrow

“then why are you here?”

“my friend seokjin,” you lean back upon realizing the original reason why you’re here, the situation being so ironic that you puff out a smile

your friend’s named seokjin?

cool :D kim seokjin is namjoon’s of his favorite directors eVER!!

second best for him actually though.,., no one could quite compare to his first

your explanation makes him cackle several times, a swell of pride recounting why you hate (it’ll be past tense probably after this one) theatre

“what about you?”

you turn the question to him, making his dimples disappear effectively that you think you’ve just spooked him

“i uh, well i always wanted to see a story that went like this, so i’m here.”

“you’re a critic? oh god. please don’t tell me you heard all my mumbles.”

no this is even WORSE

namjoon’s not a theatre buff

HE’S A CRITIC????????????

god im coming up

“don’t worry, i also think that the drapings must probably be dirty.”

he breaks out into a smile recounting how you were talking to yourself earlier, a snort escaping him involuntarily

“RIGHT??? it’s like how do you even clean them?? do they fit in washing machines or-”

my god he’s such a nice guy!!!

in fact, he’s everything you want in a guy

you’ve went through atleast twelve facets of emotions for the past hour and you’re not even dating!!!!!!!

“my thoughts exactly!! and if it’s by hand, how do you even scrub the entirety of it?? or wring the water out??”

namjoon KNOWS exactly what’s up :’)

“is there even a clothesline that’d bEAR the weight??”

the two of you are so happy that you just look at each other laughing, a moment in time before namjoon nudges you to lean back because the ending’s happening

you don’t even question him how he’d know that it’s the ending and not just another opening to a new scene, just listening to him

you’re so happy

the play made you happy but namjoon made you even happier :-)

“if you are a critic, you should probably open up your review with this chatty play-hating girl beside you, then at the end, close it off with how she loves it.”

it’s the parting conversation as you realize and holy fuck you are nOT ready for it

you r gonna drag this out for as long as you could <3

......

and namjoon wants in too <3

“noted. if i was a playwright, i’d even make you the lead. which detail should i include? offering me wrapper-covered rice crispy snacks, or asking how you’d watch it while going thru the bathroom?”

this feels so natural

as natural as the couple in the play you’ve just finished watching :))

“you’re hilarious,” you’re not even the slightest bit annoyed and your restrained smile tells him all about it

yea you may have brought in snacks illegally but you aRE gathering your trash up as you’re a decent human being

namjoon wishes you’d pick up after yourself slowly, standing up from his seat as he has the plan of picking up trash that isn’t even his

“what name should i put then?”

you’re silent and oh god he thinks you found his company stupid and would definitely not give him your name

you’re not ignoring him though!!!

his words are still stuck in your head, realizing it lately with his “which detail should i include?”

“me wanting to turn this into a film, actually.”

you test the words out on your tongue, nodding to yourself after a few seconds that you seem so sure of it

“yeah. i wanna make it into a film.”

the lights turn on after being dim for so long, namjoon’s eyes going wide trying to digest what you’ve just said

“w-what?

.....

no fucking way

HOLY FUCKING SHIT SWFRWFBWRHGBRBVWRV SWBHJSDB SHJAVBHGJDS BWHRGHBSVWBGRH

namjoon’s malfunctioning as he’s looking at you from eye to eye, bottom lip trembling while he’s so keen at pointing at you

“y-you’re miss y/n!!”

....

right

oH RIGHT

he’s a fan of yours??

namjoon’s fanning his face because he’s about to literally burst into tears

how could he nOT???

how could he not be emotional when all along, he’s been talking to his number one favorite director????

you and your films are the absolute gems of his life namjoon’s not even kidding

your films were world-renowned for being so natural and sentimental without loading too much into it!!!! you’re known for being so humble through the multiple back-to-back awards and praise you get!!!!

he cannot calm the fUCK down when you’re rubbing circles on his back

“you w-want to turn my play into a film?”

oh my gOD

you’re fumbling for the envelope and it’s only nOW that you realize that it’s not from seokjin in the first place

spring day a play by kim namjoon an invite for director y/n y/l/n

“it’s you!!!!”

“no it’s YOU!!”

jin’s plan worked alright :D

he’s just FOUR rows behind you lmao

it was just two weeks ago when yoongi, the executive producer of his film that he was directing, let it slip that he was co-financing a play

he met yoongi some semesters later after he became close with you, and he’s aLSO converted yoongi into hating theatre then he fit right in to your little posse of theatre kid-hating film students

that gave jin the laugh of his laugh and yoongi was not joking at all

“no, no. i’m telling you man. it’s different! i even have the script that i’ll let you read.”

and holy shit it IS different

if you see a couple tears on the last seven pages of yoongi’s copy of spring day’s script then mind yo oWN fucking business

then two weeks later, here he is :D

jin managed to also convert you to love theatre even IF it is namjoon’s play that did all the work

( also coincidentally found you a future boyfriend because he’s tired of seeing you alone and the closest you’d get to having someone is projecting your yearning into writing the scripts for the films you’d make )

he’s also secretly co-financed the whole play along with yoongi and he’ll drop that bomb later on lmao

“and that must mean i looked like a total FOOL beside you oh my god im so sorry!!”

namjoon panics at that, about to cry when another realization hits him when he’s about to put his head on his hands

“then that means the friend who gave you the ticket was-”

SEOKJIN VBFHSBVHSFBVSFHDVBSJFV SFJVJSFVSJVSSV SSV V FS FSV SFBVRBVRSVSWVGU

he cries to your shoulder and you never expected to be hugging and consoling someone you’ve just met two hours ago, a more than fond smile on your face he takes advantage of when he sneaks in the chance to ask you

“do you mean that?”

“now why would i lie to the playwright who’s been listening to me talk shit, then theorizing, then crying for the past hour?”

it’s true though

namjoon’s seen it all

he’s still handsome as ever even when he sniffles, his dimples on display when you return his question

“now did you mean it? writing me into your play?”

why are you even ASKING

he’s the biggest fan of u

namjoon’s made notes of your work, dedicated scripts to your movies, and he’s thinking about how it’s not yet hitting you how your whole epiphany about the pink sweater turning brown on his play,,, was entirely inspired from you and your affinity for lighting in your films

he thinks it’s still a little early to kiss you on the cheek even if you’ve already hugged, instead settling on pinching your cheek with satisfaction present in all corners

“you’ve always been my muse.”

#feedback pls and thank you :D I WAS SCREAMING THE WHOLE TIME I HAVE A TEST TOMORROW I NEED TO SLEEP #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #namjoon oneshot #namjoon oneshots #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon au #namjoon fluff imagine #namjoon fluff imagines #namjoon fic #namjoon fics #namjoon fic recs #namjoon scenario #bts namjoon imagine

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing I(.5)

A/N: This is the sort of backstory to Harry and you, I think it can be read on its own if you want, or before you read the first part too. It’s angsty af, but it has some death and sensitive topics jsyk. I tried to keep it concise but it got a little wordy as angst does. xx

Part 1

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

About 12 Years Ago:

“So are you coming to that party or not?” My roommate asks. She was one of the first people I’d met last year when we started uni and even though we came from different backgrounds we remained friends over the last year, even choosing to room together again. She got me to open up and find the extroverted part of me that was able to enjoy uni outside of academics.

“Ugh, I’m volunteering for the voting booths for the rest of the week. Maybe if I can make it?”

“You’re actually doing that?” She scrunches her nose. “I don’t get it. You’re just way too nerdy to be my friend.”

“And yet you loove me,” I squeeze her against me and she laughs. “It’s my mom, she said I had to do at least one extracurricular so I could meet friends this year.”

“You already have friends,” she points to herself, and with her came her group of friends that’d quickly taken me in last year.

And my mom doesn’t like that I hang out with you, I think. She thought we partied too much even though my grades stayed decent. “She wants me to have nerdy friends too, I dunno. They’re helping me pay my tuition until I get a job so I kinda have to play nice.”

“Parents suck,” my roommate flicks through her closet. I agreed, this was just something I would get through to get through. Then they would leave me alone for the rest of the year.

Little did I know the person they’d partner me with at my polling station was someone who would be in my life for the next decade.

“I’m Harry by the way,” he’d said after we received our orientation and assigned the building we were going to babysit the votes in. “Second year.”

“Me too! I’m Y/N. What’s your major? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Law--well I haven’t decided if it’s law but that’s what I’m in right now.”

“Really? Law?” I was openly judging, he just didn’t seem the law type.

“Well what are you in?” He demands.

“Business,” I cringe.

“Really? Business?” He has a cheeky smile on, one that would become familiar to me.

“Well, you just don’t seem like the law type. They’re usually more uptight, dress way too smart for me.”

“I know, it’s like, we’re not even in the courtroom yet,” he joins in and it makes me laugh--how he could poke fun at his own people. That’s when I knew we would get along fine, and I actually looked forward to the next few days getting to know him better.

“I’m definitely telling my mum about you, she’s been begging me to make friends outside of my circle. I’ll tell her I’m friends with a law student.”

“So we’re friends already?” We’d reached our booth and began setting up the partitions. He takes over when I set it up wrong.

“Obviously,” I say. “I actually like you which means you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“I’m alright with that,” he grins and I notice the laugh lines that are brought to life as he does. It somehow made him seem more genuinely.

We spend the rest of the time swapping stories, classes, rants. We check student IDs and hand out voting cards in between but it doesn’t feel like a drag anymore. At the end of the day, I invite him to the party my roommate was going to with our friends. If he was going, maybe I would too. He seemed like he might be fun at a party.

“Er,” he suddenly seems nervous. “I’ll have to ask my girlfriend, she wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Well bring her too!” I say excitedly. “Is she law as well?”

“No, she’s in the arts.”

“I like her already,” I push. “Bring her, my friends are fun you’ll learn how to have a good time.”

“I know how to have a good time,” there was the flash of his dimples again. “Text me the address.”

And thus began a friendship for the next four years, partying together, studying together (trying to), and hanging out in each other’s rooms. We would set each other up with other friends, double dated, went out for sunrise-hikes, and took long drives at night when we had to blow some steam off from being over-stressed, over-studied uni students. Our friend circles overlapped, the fabric of our lives eventually bleeding together. We were made of the same fibers, sticking together even after uni, when our friends got more serious about their careers. When they moved out of the country or to another city, we made sure to rent places close enough that we could still see each other often. And somehow, in the new chapter of our lives, without the partying and our other friends to buffer, we became closer than before.

We cared for each other--we didn’t deny that ever. And somehow that platonic love turned romantic as we depended on each other while we navigated adulthood. I can’t exactly pinpoint where things changed, but one evening our relationship was changed forever.

7 years ago:

“She literally wants me to stay until 7, and she was offended when I said no! I’m not even getting paid for that!” I was bitching to Harry about my shitty job.

“That’s bollocks” Harry shrugs. “Just say you’ve got family obligations or something.”

“I said that the one time she wanted us to come in on a weekend and she gave me shite work the following week! I just...I can’t afford to lose this job Harry.”

“That’s shitty, I’m sorry.” He takes the last swig of his beer. “Want another one?”

“I haven’t even finished this one,” I moan at my now warm beer that I’d been nursing for the last hour, too busy ranting to drink it. “It’s getting late though I should head home before it’s dark. Don’t want that nutter that hangs around my building to harass me again.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Harry suggests. He lived a 15 minute walk from me.

“No no,” I get up and take our dirty dishes to the sink. “I didn’t even ask about you, how was your day?”

“Same old,” he sighs against the counter. “I feel like I don’t fit in, everyone my age is finishing their law degree but I don’t think I want to.”

“I knew from the day I met you, you weren’t destined for the courtroom.” I pull him into a comforting hug. “Do what makes you happy, or what doesn’t make you want to say fuck it and quit your job to hibernate.”

“You really know the perfect thing to say,” Harry chuckles but he pulls me tighter against him. I stroke his back, reassuring him he’d be alright in the end.

“Y/N-” he pulls away to say something but freezes mid sentence. I raise an eyebrow but he’s still, staring at my face.

“Harry?” I ask, but he continues staring. “Hello? You alright?”

“Yeah,” he breaks into a sudden smile. That was weird--I make sure he’s okay before letting go.

Before I leave, I kiss Harry’s cheek goodbye--I was never shy in the affection I gave my friends and Harry’s bummed mood needed extra affection tonight. But what I don’t expect is for him to catch me before I pull away, staring intently into my eyes. The lighthearted energy between us disappears instantly as it dawns on me, how close we were, the unspoken feelings in his eyes, the hesitation before he presses his lips to mine.

I kissed him back then, barely understanding what was happening, before pulling away. I give him a smile but that’s just what he sees at the tip of the iceberg, underneath my mixed feelings churn away. My best friend just kissed me, and I wasn’t totally mad about it.

“It’s getting dark I-” I say as Harry says, “Sorry was that okay?”

We laugh awkwardly, neither of us sure what to do at this point. We decide to ignore it instead.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Harry lets me go and opens the door for me. “Watch out for the neighbourhood nutter yea?”

I stand in place, feeling the fibers of our friendship unraveling but feeling hopeless in mending the tear. “Take care Harry.”

I high tail it out, my thoughts going at an impossible rate as I sort out what happened. And we try to ignore it the next couple weeks,

We hadn’t made it official then, too nervous to face what this meant about our friendships. It was only at my sister’s wedding, that I realised what was wrong between us. I’d been mourning our old friendship, and avoiding him in the weeks since the kiss. But what I didn’t realise was that our friendship had been changing over the last year anyway, and getting drunk on champagne and dancing with Harry, while my sister celebrated the happiest day of her life, made me realise there was a cause for celebration here: a new chapter in our lives.

A couple days later, after a stressful day at work, I’d taken the tube to his flat and waited for him outside. He was surprised to see me there, not saying much except to open the door and let me in. As soon as he’d closed it, my lips were attached to his and we’d let our bags drop, coats, and any piece of clothing between us. After that night, we didn’t even try to deny how we felt about each other.

“I didn’t think I could ever be this happy,” he’s whispered to me after. I thought he’d fallen asleep but his whisper in the dark made me grin to myself. “Are you awake.”

“I am. Awake and happy.” I turn to face him, giggling. “Who knew this could feel so right.”

“Our first kiss was quite wrong though wasn’t it?” Harry says and it makes me laugh.

“That’s why I needed to do a redo,” I tease. “Can’t leave you to plan anything.”

“It wasn’t planned I swear, I was trying to be spontaneous.”

“Let’s not try ‘spontaneous’ again then,” I kiss him in the dark. He pulls me snug against him, I never knew how safe it felt. The safest I would ever feel, wrapped in the warmth with my best friend and now something else.

It was a good few months, testing the waters as our relationship underwent a transformation. All of our friends were supportive, but we never missed the glances between them. Apparently, they were waiting for this to happen. But as sweet as those first few months had been, finding out my mum was sick with a timeline was devastating. I came apart at the seams but Harry stayed through it all, holding me together. He’d proposed then, wanting my mum to be part of the ceremony. We had a small wedding, intimate but still magical. It was bittersweet, the amount of love and happiness I felt towards Harry and our loved ones around us as he said I do and as he took my arm and swept me across the dancefloor. But the amount of sadness crushing my chest kept me from being the weightless bride I always thought I would be.

Through it all, Harry stayed by my side. While we were hopeful, the day our hopes were dashed, the days and weeks I mourned. When my sister and her husband came to stay with their crazy toddlers and Harry kept them entertained giving my sister and I time together. I thought he was perfect, that I’d lucked out.

That lasted a few years, 3 and a half to be exact. There were months leading up to our split and we could point to a bunch of things that could’ve led to it. a) him wanting kids, and me wanting to wait or b) long hours we worked as we changed careers and tried to make our way up or c) how hard getting pregnant actually was. Maybe I pushed him away, or he didn’t love me enough to try and make it work.

I think I lied to myself, avoiding the tension creeping into the relationship. The tired excuses and time spent apart, the lack of usual affection, or casual conversations. I was an idiot, I realise every time I think about the end in retrospect. Maybe if I caught on earlier I could have fixed us before we fell apart. Maybe I could have saved us.

“There’s someone coming in Tuesday morning to fix the broken washer, will you be home?” I ask, still in bed and scrolling through my phone. I hadn’t meant to be up this early but Harry woke me as he got up and I couldn’t fall back asleep.

“No,” Harry responds, his back to me as he ruffles through the dresser. “I’ve got a thing that morning.”

“Well I’ve got to go in early Tuesday-I thought you might be home.” I say. I hear an edge to Harry’s voice but I try not to focus on it. He’d been a little cold all weekend and I was scared to think what it meant.

“You couldn’t be bothered to check in when you confirmed the date?” Harry asks harshly.

“I...guess not.” I put my phone down and wait for Harry to turn, maybe I could read his expression. Maybe he was stressed. “Harry?”

“What?” He turns, but he looks at me with no emotion. No stress, no frustration, not even anger. It’s the lack of emotion in his face that cause my eyes to prick with tears. Harry raises his eyebrows and I shake my head, untangling myself from the sheets so he doesn’t see any tears. I rush to the bathroom but forget to close the door out of habit.

“Y/N,” a kinder Harry appears by the doorway. His face has smoothed out the harsh lines, his eyes hesitant and cautious.

“What’s happened with us?” I blurt out. “Why are you so cold all the time? Am I doing something wrong?”

Harry’s face falls and he walks towards me but doesn’t touch me. “It’s nothing like that. It’s...I don’t know. We should talk.”

He reaches his hand out but I flinch away. “Did you meet somebody new or something? What are we talking about?”

“Let’s not do this here. Right now.”

“Why not!” I finally had enough. “I’ve been walking on eggshells for months Harry! I don’t know what’s wrong and I keep waiting for you to bloody tell me!”

“This isn’t working!” Harry raises his voice to compensate for mine. I’m immediately silenced by the volume, and then the words sink in.

“Is there someone else?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, his gaze on the hanging vines by the window. My heart drops into my stomach like a boulder, and I find it hard to breathe. I clutch the porcelain sink and ask in a surprisingly even tone, “Harry. Answer me.”

“What we have, Y/N...it’s dysfunctional.” He says quietly, meeting my eyes. “It doesn’t matter if there’s someone else, we’ve been fighting for months. Things aren’t the same between us-”

“Who is she?” I ask. I needed to know.

“That’s not relevant,” he shuts my question down quickly. “I’m sorry Y/N, I...I don’t want to hurt you. I care about you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” I’d pleaded. “We can go to counseling, talk it through-”

“I can’t Y/N.”

“Because of her.”

“No, because this isn’t good for either of us.” He’d walked up to me, cradled my face. “We’re not good for each other, not like this.”

“Who is she?” I yank his hands away.

“She’s...it doesn’t matter, I swear nothing happened between us Y/N. Knowing who she is isn’t going to help this situation--”

“It is! If it weren’t for her, you’d be willing to work on us--to see a future. You...Harry how could you do this to me? To us?” The tears come with no control. “You’re moving on before we’re even over. How are you giving up on us like that?”

“I’m not!” his voice booms in the tiled bathroom. “I’m not bloody giving up on us! I tried Y/N, so many times. I tried! You just keep pushing at me to be someone I’m not and-”

“I can say the same thing about you!” I throw the brush in my hands into the sink. “We were good! And you got it in your head you wanted a baby even though we’re young, oh my god Harry you kept pestering me to change my mind even though I told you I needed time!”

“It’s not like we could have a fucking baby anyway,” Harry says bitterly before realising what he’d said. “Shit-”

“There you go,” I mock. “I knew it. I knew you were holding that against me. And that,” I jab my finger into his chest. “Is what’s made you so moody, so mean and why we’re always fighting. You held it against me.”.

There was absolute truth to what I said. Last year, Harry had brought the baby topic up. I’d told him we were only in our mid-20s, we had a lot of time, and we still had a career to establish. But he would bring up the topic often enough that I’d given in.To make him happy. And months went by, trying for a baby. Went we finally went to our doctor, she’d told us why it was so hard, it could take us years she’d said.

Harry came home that day dejected, and left me feeling like a failure. I think it tore us up.

“You wanted a baby so fucking bad and when I couldn’t, it made me feel like a complete failure. And I told you that! And you did absolutely nothing to make me feel better. You held it against me, Harry! You didn’t even try to tell me it was okay.”

“It’s not so fucking simple,” he says, his cheeks flushed pink. Maybe it was anger, or maybe it was embarrassment from being confronted with an ugly truth.

“It is. And now you’ve upgraded to a newer model, maybe her version comes with a fertile womb.” I take the cheap shot.

He doesn’t say anything though. And I don’t know why that hurts more than knowing he’d fallen for another woman while he was still married to me. My best friend in the whole world had just broken my heart into a million irrevocable pieces.

“It’s a bunch of things Y/N,” he finally says. “That’s just part of it. We’re not...we’re just not working!”

“Did you even try to make it work?” I ask, swiping my sleeve across my face. “Did you ever think how I felt? How you made me feel Harry? You’ve been slipping away from me without talking to me-” I break off. I couldn’t speak through the heartbreak, the thunderstorm of grief threatens to consume me and my sobs are the only thing that manages to come out.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Harry tries to place a hand on my shoulder but I jerk away, moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Y/N...”

“Just go,” I say through the tears.

“We can talk more about this later-”

"Just go,” I say louder.

Harry’s phone rings again from the bedroom and he sighs. But he leaves me, crying on the bathroom floor. The sadness that was always in my peripheral consumes me. I’d carried this sadness for a long time--ever since I found out my mum was sick, the sadness plagued me. I’d neatly packed it up once I decided to move forward with my life like my mum would want me to, but now it comes back tenfold, marrying the grief of losing Harry like this. And I stay on the floor crying my grief away for hours, eventually crawling into bed and sleeping the daylight away.

When I wake, it’s 6 and Harry isn’t home. I take that as a sign and get up to pack up a few things. I call my sister who still lived in London then, and crash on her couch, staying there for a few weeks and ignoring any call or text from Harry. When I need to go back, for my things, I find him sleeping on the couch with the TV on, something I always found endearing. But I can’t afford to dwell on how much it hurt seeing him like that.

He must have woken from the noise because when he finds me, he tries to stop me and tell me that we still needed to talk.

“About what?” I ask, just tired now. Too many tears shed and too many hours laying awake thinking about the exact moment we went wrong.

“Us,” Harry looked tired too. He was probably throwing himself into his work with nothing like me to hold him back, I think bitterly. His girlfriend had probably already been to our house--his house.

“What about us?” I barely look at him as I begin folding away all my clothes.

“I don’t know,” Harry sits on the bed. “Don’t you want to talk?”

“I’ve got nothing to say, do you?”

Harry sighs, “I don’t know.”

“Nice talk then,” I say, shoving the rest of my things in just so I could get out.

“I just want you to know I care about you Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.” He says as I pack.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. If you cared about me, and you didn’t want to hurt me you wouldn’t have done this to us.”

“I wasn’t trying to--I didn’t mean to go and fall for someone else-”

“Just stop,” I cut him off. I couldn’t hear it, how the man I loved fell for someone else. I couldn’t break down here. Again.

He said he cared but it didn’t feel that way. It hurt more than I wished to admit. He knew what I’d been through and he still betrayed me, tossed my heart like it was replaceable. The cut he left in me ran deep.

As I leave he tries to talk to me, but I barrel past him. He still reaches for me and pulls me into a hug, I struggle against him but he’s too strong. He wraps me in his arms until I go still but it’s too much. A sob escapes me, and this time he lets me push him off and leave, my bag banging into my hips every time I take a step. As soon as I got into my Uber, I can’t stop crying. There was an infinite pool of tears where Harry was involved.

3 years ago:

My trust and my heart had been been lost in the war between Harry and I. It only took him a month to mail my divorce papers which sat collecting dust on my dining table until he showed up at work one day and demanded I sign them by the end of that week. I’d taken the day off the day I mailed those in, mourning the end of something that was once so safe and beautiful.

When a close friend calls me on a warm July afternoon, I don’t consider her warning that I shouldn’t check Instagram. That I still had Harry’s friends on my list. I open Instagram before she can tell me why, and see it. Harry was getting married, again. To the woman he gave up on us for. I try to zoom in on a picture without liking it, she was pretty...and blonde. She looked familiar--probably from his office. It didn’t take him long.

It was like someone had taken a retractor to the wound I thought had finally scabbed over. The physical proof that Harry had moved on is just the salt on the wound.

I cry myself to sleep that night.

2 Years ago;

The guy in front of me drones on about his job, mansplaining to me how a mortgage worked as if I wasn’t in finance myself. I excuse myself to use the restroom, checking my phone to see a text from my sister. She’d moved to Scotland this year, to where her husband was from, and I’d missed her terribly in the last year.

A little birdie told me your demon-ex just got divorced 🥂

I stare at the screen, chest feeling tight. I felt vindicated somehow, but I also felt a small bit of sadness. What a fuck-up.

Good for him I had texted back. A part of me wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me.

I went back to my date with a renewed enthusiasm. I’d ordered more wine and got so drunk he was actually interesting enough to take home.

About 1 year ago

“Y/N,” a voice from my past says, one that haunted me some nights. I turn as I exit the shop I was just in. I blink at the sight before me, Harry in a vest and hat. He realises what I’m staring at and laughs awkwardly. “I’m in uniform.”

“You’re...police?” I look up to his face finally. He hadn’t aged a day, although the hat he wears makes him look a little silly.

“Yeah I joined the force uhm...almost 4 years ago now...law didn’t really suit me.”

I know what he was doing, trying to find a baseline to have a conversation. But he was dead to me, and I didn’t want to invite him back in when I was finally forgetting about him.

"Seems like you dropped a lot of dead-weight four years ago.”

I watch his face fall as he realises I wasn’t going to pretend to be friendly.

“Seems that way to you,” he says cautiously. “But that’s not how it happened.”

I shrug. “So. I heard about the divorce. Must’ve been hard being put through that.”

I knew I was being petty, obviously I never got the closure I want (according to my therapist) and I wasn’t over him hurting me the way he did (also according to my therapist). This was how I got my peace, and it wasn’t the best version of me but it was the only one I knew how to be right now.

“Yep,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

He knew I wasn’t, I don’t know how but the way he stoops to my level I know he knows I hadn’t had a long term relationship since him.

“Not at the moment,” I say awkwardly. “Just focusing on my job...trying to get this promotion.”

“Sorry,” he seems to shake off whatever had come over him. “That was...nosy, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Having him be the bigger person sets something off in me, like there was an anger-bomb inside my mind where he lived and knowing that he was doing okay enough to be able to be the bigger person disrupts this calm I was trying to keep.

“Maybe you shoudn’t have stopped me to ask anything at all. We don’t have anything to talk about anyway.”

I turn around and start to walk away but he catches up, “I wasn’t trying to upset you-”

“Well you have a way of doing that. Please just leave me alone Harry.”

He huffs beside me, “After all this time, can’t we just bloody talk like two adults?”

I freeze and turn to him slowly. He seems to sense this was the wrong thing to say because he takes a step back. “After all this time? Are you serious? I was the one you left behind Harry when you went off to lives your best lift Harry. We’re not living the same life, and we’re not coming from the same bloody place. Don’t fucking patronize me and ask me to talk to you like an adult when you bring out the worst part of me. I meant what I said: I want you to leave me alone. And you know what, if we ever run into each other again, just don’t even talk to me. Pretend you don’t know me. I want nothing to do with you.”

He opens his mouth but his partner calls him from the shop’s entrance. He stays silent, letting me go. As soon as I turn the street corner I rush the rest of the way to the tube, collapsing into a seat and trying to sort out my breathing. It was a shitty feeling, knowing someone was going to be in your life forever because you shared so much history that even when that part of your life ended they were still there. There was so much apart of me, around me, that reminded me of him. And it felt so lonely carrying that around. I wanted to be done with him, I wanted my heart to purge him out. But it couldn’t stop carrying him around everywhere I go.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #detective!harry #backstory #this one made me sad to write #but ALSO #if there are any errors #no there is not

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