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#like people will just shag at any time and u hear it
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wow it's a never ending party huh. i wish my life could be like that 😭
Trust me u don’t I’ll tell u a story in the tags as to why -Talia
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disco-cola · 1 year
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honestly it just makes me feel even more misunderstood and lonelier that whenever i do a diary like entry rant talking about my era struggle and not feeling so happy in this decade that someone says something like you can still have that life - how? i forcibly see modern houses and cars everyday. people dressed in modern clothes or 70s style clothing being back in style but then not being able to tell actual classic rock people from people just digging the pure style without further passion for that time its from - no offense no critique intended here just makes it a lil harder when u get excited about a potential new friend and theyre like "i dont like """OLD""" music - and people always on phones. like always. you meet up with people but theyre on their phones. people driving and looking down while being in active part of traffic. you get on a train and almost everyone is staring down at a screen. someone almost running you over bc they just cant even look up while walking. people filming fucking everything to post it on social media in hopes to go viral just for one day. the whole toxicity behind social media but it being so present its hard to find a way around it - even typing this im just as guilty of that but i havent managed to ditch all of it yet because sometimes i need to just put thoughts out there. but even if i decorate my whole apartment authentically 70s and buy a car that is now labeled as "oldtimer" and not affordable to drive everyday or keep in shape for most working class normal formal people - it just is not the same now as it was then. i want everyone around me to decorate their places like that. i want wood panelling and flower tiles and shag carpeting being the latest craze in home trends. i wanna sit in traffic full of colorful pretty cars. i wanna get called on my rotary dial landline or scrape up some coins for a phone booth. i want to hear an amazing guitar solo in almost every song no matter what radio station i turn on. no auto-tune, just talent. i wanna go to a store and buy vibrant dresses and boots and vests. i want to see men in bell bottoms and platform boots. girls too. i want all my friends to dress like that. i want us to sit together and read the latest issue of creem magazine. i wanna turn on my big ass tv set to top of the pops and see my favorite bands play as their young selves and know they are out there right now. i wanna go to their shows and see them live. its just not the same now anymore. an imitation will never be an original.
and i seriously wish i was "normal" in a sense that i would just have no desire to teleport back to another decade and not even lose a single thought about it and just enjoy whats popular on streaming sites and young artists music and social media and just go with trends and identify with recent mainstream taste bc it would make everything easier, and i tried, but i just cant do it. i literally cant. it makes me feel so uneasy and bad i wanna cry. like on a random day in late 2k13 classic rock (or basically any genre from the 60s-80s tbh i like everything from pop to rock to punk to reggae to disco whatever as long as its from that era tbh) including that era struggle just took over my life and has had me in a grip ever since, i really didnt choose to like it that much and nothing else, i just cant help it like why me???
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pinkspiraling · 1 year
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Sending to u bc you said to talk abt anything and I have no clue what to talk about but you were dealing with some gender things earlier, and it’s always, at least for me, comforting or at the very least interesting to hear about other people’s experiences with things that make you feel alienated. It took me a really long time to realize I was trans, but after I did, I couldn’t stop remembering this time when I was around five or six, and my mother took me to the hairdresser, and she asked what kind of haircut I wanted, and I pointed to a massive poster of a guy with a beard and short hair and told her I wanted to look just like him. She kinda laughed it off and then the hairdresser was like ‘ok short hair:) I can do that I’ll just make it more feminine than that.’ And I remember being so annoyed at the time and I kept insisting that I didn’t want it to look any different, I just wanted to look like that guy. They just brushed it off as a little kid thing, which, fair enough, but then lo & behold years later here I am wanting to have a dick, lol.
i wrote such a long answer to this and then it got deleted but basically TY FOR SHARING W ME <3 and yes i’m very confused and conflicted i think maybe i’m just fluid or nb. being called dude or boy or guy makes me feel like myself but it doesn’t bother me at all to be called girl or female. i do dress more masculine and feel better and more confident when i dress masculine. i like having lash extensions and wearing dark lipstick tho and i love having my hair in a longer shag and felt unlike myself when i had short hair. those things don’t really have a gender obv but i kind of just feel like i’m anything and everything and would like to be perceived in all forms. if that make sense? also hate having boobs and really wish i had a dick too but i don’t experience gender dysphoria i just sort of daydream about it but don’t totally mind that this is my reality. idk if any of that makes sense
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kirascottage · 3 years
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maybe ruby with a really chill s/o who’s like her total opposite, i dunno i’ll read anything for ruby cause no one really writes for her.
never too simple
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ruby matthews x f. reader
summary: dating the popular girl is always interesting when your her total opposite.
word count: 1.2k
cw: sex education season 3 spoilers* , mentions of sex, swearing, soft!ruby
a/n: trying to write for some more characters lmk what u all think. this is dedicated to u ruby simps
A mighty groan spilling from your lips was routinely how you’d begin your day, prowling out of bed with a blear in your eye as you made your way to the kitchen.
With pulled brows in the beaming direction of the sunrise, your awakening hands would mundanely start sufficiently preparing your coffee or tea, just a dribble of milk and a few granulated spoonfuls of sugar.
If you had time to spare afterward, you’d end up passively watching a program on the television while you contentedly munching on your breakfast.
Then, you’d get properly equipped for compulsory school; the sex school of flaccid penises and vaginas where willing people would shag in a gutted bathroom and trade sex advice when they couldn't make their partner come.
When your digits would curl into your untamed tufts you experienced an overwhelming wave of fatigue glue onto your skull at the copious amount of effort.
Dressing fashionably and doing your hair in differentiating styles always felt complete to your look as soon as the academic year had begun, but not a prime necessity as you were on campus with a horde of vexing, titillated teenagers where it was irrevocably bound to be ruined by the second quarter.
Although your girlfriend felt otherwise.
Polished shoes, luxury handbags, designer clothes; Ruby felt as if the school was her own Paris Fashion week where Kim Kardashian would personally ask her for valuable advice on this upcoming season's prevailing fashion and trends.
Something mundane to her everyday routine, early awakening and painting the slim definitions of her aglow cheeks in contours in blushes as if it was the official Met Gala and fluttering fake lashes clung to her lash line that would nearly recoil in the wind like gaudy butterflies if the wind gust had bidden a bit too strong.
So in compromise with your dear girlfriend you’d slip on your most charming skirt, add a minuscule more makeup than you ordinarily did, and style up your hair to pristine effort; but, at any point when you had gotten languid throughout the day, you’d disregard all formalities and brush all of your perspiring tufts and locks back into a clip.
You had opted for your style for the day as you had woken up late due to diligently studying for Biology till nearing dawn and felt as though it was a test day, there wasn't much to dress up for.
Your hair was natural for the day, the cut and style carefully framed the delicate bones of your plump cheeks and your nape felt shielded from your locks.
A dull blush was painted on said cheekbones and an ordinary flick of liner that was carefully shaded into your crease and decorated your primed eyelids. Your lips were glossed over in chapstick — the skin of your lips kept healthy after the storming season of drying and visible cracks had undoubtedly passed.
The material of your top was a milky-ivory shade, with the ample sleeves dyed in a baby blue, similar to the unclouded sky on a pleasant summer day. Your jeans were raw denim, a light wash that hemmed at the mid-waist and flared out near the bottom of your ankle. Instead of a booted heel, a pair of onyx converse with embroidered designs from the years encapsulated your feet.
Invariably hearing a blaring honk from the driveway you deemed your modest outfit quite fitting for the day — eagerly snatching the navy blue bag with a spillage of papers drooping from the sides of the zippers and striding over to the magenta car where Ruby had stood with her heel pressed into the leather disk where the horn symbol resided.
“Are you wearing your simple clothes again? You know, you can always borrow my stuff if you’re not feeling yours.” With an arched brow, she strategically placed her bottom into the left side of the car as you had unfastened the bright-toned door.
Your shoulders pulled into an expressive shrug once you were finally sat, “Simple clothes for a simple day.”
“But you’re around me all day, henceforth it physically cannot be a simple day. We’re girlfriends and that makes us better than everyone else. Therefore, we need to let everyone know we are better than them.” The girl practically huffed, her polished nails slightly colliding with the wheel as she promptly drove.
“Right, Rubes, my bad.” A distorted giggle escaped with difficulty from your throat at her aplomb.
“I cannot believe this woman. That grotesque, ill-favored, monstrous woman with that nauseating, greasy side part and uncolored roots genuinely wants to take away our right to dress as we please! Babes, I bought so many new outfits for the term and I even redesigned your wardrobe! This all feels like a complete waste.” The brunet all but fiercely screams at the front of the school with a shrill whine instantly following, her manicured fingers squirming around to progressively extend her point.
Ruby frantically begins to wildly gesture to her outfit. She's wearing a tied-up violet blouse that's sheer, with a matching tank top underneath. Her pants are denim, painted in differentiating patterns of dull purples, and her back pockets are delicately hemmed with intricate patterns and unique designs.
It’s when the delicate pads of your fingertips brush at her lower back and your chin hooks onto her covered shoulder, she ultimately regains a well-needed breath from her boisterous rant.
“Rubes, relax,” You croon softly while gently sweeping your thumb against the granulated material of her violet sheen coat. “You know we can always hem the kilts, and accessorize the top with something because you’re like a fashion goddess. There's always a way to wean your way around the new dress code, and we can figure that out, but first, you need to breathe.”
“Yeah, you’re right. You’re right, I am a fashion goddess, I can totally make it work.” Her brow arches in patient compliance with your kind words.
It’s hushed for a moment, the inhales of Ruby’s breath become slow and relaxed before Anwar chides across from you both in feigning annoyance, “Oh, so you can calm her down and we can’t? Now, that’s just unfair.”
Ruby's ached throat is burning as she's nearly out of breath whilst she speaks, “I cannot just believe Adam Groff just threw a— a poo at that French man! God, this trip is so repulsive. We should’ve just went to the Eiffel Tower instead!” A remaining number of pants hoarsely escape her brawny throat.
You lamely conceal a chortle at her severe chastising, your head weaseling into the bend of her expensively fragrant neck as she's sat next to you with her body facing forward.
“Yeah he definitely should’ve held it in,” You muffle your chortle into her grey blazer. “Plus I think it was Rahim, I saw him sockless.” Your voice instantly drops into a hushed octave at the comical gossip as her head bobs rapidly towards you.
“No fucking way!”
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horansqueen · 3 years
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could u make one where y/n is Niall's assistant and they don't like each other but have common friends and they go to a club together with their friends and Niall get's jealous when a guy hits on y/n and she asks him why and he starts kissing her and ends with saying that's why lol
request from @cursedlover !!! FLUFF! with a bit of inappropriate touching at the end but nothing dirty. 2k. hope you enjoy!!
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"You're so annoying, you're so fucking annoying!" I thought as I looked at my boss, squeezing my jaw to make sure the words wouldn't escape my lips.
I knew it was just a difference of personalities and that he wasn't really as annoying as I felt. After all, everyone seemed to love him except me and perhaps that proved I was wrong about him. I could just resign and get a job somewhere else, i knew it, but there was clearly no way I would find a job that paid that well. I was not sure it made out for the clash of personalities Niall and I went through but for money I desperately needed, I could manage to stay a couple more weeks, right?
"Yea, no problem, I'll do it." I replied with a smile, knowing perfectly it was hard for me to hide my irritation.
All my friends said I was like an open book and hiding my feelings was not an easy task but I tried very hard when I was around Niall. I sighed of relief as soon as I stepped foot out of his apartment as if I had been holding my breath the whole time. I started walking to my car just as my phone rang and I groaned of displeasure when I thought it could be him calling to ask me something else.
"Hello?"
"Y/N, you sound grumpy!" I heard my friend on the other line.
"I thought it was Niall." I explained, sitting in front of the wheel and leaning my head against the bench. "He's so annoying, Jay, I don't know how long I'll be able to handle it."
Jay was actually the link between Niall and I. He was the one who found me the job and I was really grateful to him, but I didn't know who Niall was and now I wish I didn't know.
"It's better than minimum wage in a retail store." Jay pointed out, making me raise my nose in a grimace. "Besides, Niall's an amazing guy, you're just being rude because he's exactly like you."
"Is that how you expect me to say yes to the favor you're about to ask?" I wondered, raising my eyebrows even if he couldn't see me.
"How do you-"
"I know you!" I cut him, my voice getting slightly louder. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm actually just calling to invite you tonight. We're going to a bar and you should come, I can hear in your voice that you need it."
I sighed again and closed my eyes, my head still leaned against the bench. "I was actually thinking about watching Netflix in bed."
"Oh come on!"
"No seriously, after spending the day with Niall Horan, I need to relax and clear my head."
---
I don't know how I ended up agreeing to it but when I entered the bar, I immediately regretted it. The music was loud and the lights hurt my eyes. I let my eyes roam around and my lips curled when I noticed Jay , standing up next to a table with a bunch of our friends. I walked up to the quickly, making my way through all the people in the bar, but when I was close enough, Jay moved slightly and my smile fell. Niall was there, laughing his head off, and something twisted in my stomach. It took him a few seconds to notice me since I had stopped moving and when our eyes met, his smile fell. I breathed in and turned quickly on my heels, ready to get out of this place as fast as I could until I felt two hands on my upper arms, holding me gently.
"Hey, you promised, remember?"
I sighed again, closing my eyes as Jay's hand slid down my arms. I had, indeed, promised to be there, and I was mad at myself for that. I turned around and shook my head, looking up in his eyes.
"You didn't mention he would be here."
"Oh come on, Y/N, get to know him okay? I swear he's a cool guy."
I glanced at the table behind my friend and noticed everyone was talking and laughing except Niall. He was staring at me and I licked my lips nervously.
"Okay."
I joined everyone at the table and ended up sitting right in front of my boss. It was not the kind of friday night I expected and I felt constantly checked. It scared me that if I did something that would bother him, he could just fire me for the sake of it, and I hated it. I could feel his eyes on me from time to time, burning the side of my face, and for some odd reason, it made my heart skip a few beats. If he was anyone but my boss, i would ask him what the fuck was his problem, but no one asks their boss that, no matter how much they stare, right?
After a while, I got up and walked to the bar to order a drink and leaned against it until someone did the same next to me, catching my attention. I glanced at them but realized I didn't know him and finally sent him a small and polite smile before grabbing my drink and leaving a bill on the counter. I turned around to go back to my friends but he followed me and I swallowed hard.
"Hey, I'm sorry for being so upfront but, would you want to dance?"
My eyes scanned the dance floor for a few seconds before meeting his again. "I'm not so much of a dancer."
It was sort of a lie, I actually liked to dance but not with someone I didn't know. He was cute and I could probably be interested, but I was too emotionally frustrated at the moment to start anything with anyone, even if only something that would last one night.
"Can I buy you a drink then?" he asked again as we stood next to my table.
"I mean..." My hand gripped the glass in my hand and I pressed my lips together. "I'll let you know when I finish this one?"
His lips curled and he nodded, pointing the table a bit further with his chin. "I'll be sitting there with friends, whenever you feel like it."
I nodded and sent him a small smile and he winked at me, turning his head back to look at me on his way to his own friends. I chuckled and tilted my head, remaining motionless for a few seconds and after a while, I sat back next to Jay.
"You're not gonna let that arsehole shag you, right?"
My heart jumped in my chest when I recognized Niall's voice and when our eyes met, I noticed he was frowning. I could have sworn he was angry and it surprised me more than I thought.
"I don't see how it's any of your business." I quickly replied, feeling suddenly slightly guilty for the way I was talking to my boss. After a few seconds, though, the guilt disappeared. Just because Niall was my boss didn't mean he could tell me who In can and can not have sex with. I was off at the moment and I was allowed to do anything I wanted. "You don't have a say in who I shag."
His lips parted and his eyebrows raised. Clearly, he was not used in the way I was talking to him and he scoffed low. It didn't seem rude though, just slightly surprised. He didn't expect me to be rough with him but I could swear I had seen a small smile on his lips for half a second.
"Please, don't tell me he's the kind of guy that turns you on."
"What if he is?" I asked daringly, raising my chin up. "What would you do about it?"
I glanced at his hands as he gripped his beer more and my lips parted. Was he mad? Pissed? Annoyed? I shook my head a bit, telling myself I shouldn't even care about what Niall Horan thought anyway, and got up again, taking quickly the direction of the bathroom.
"Wait, Y/N!"
I looked behind me and frowned when I noticed Niall following me and finally rolled my eyes, turning around in the deserted hall before crossing my arms on my chest.
"What?"
"I just don't think... I don't think this guy likes you for the good reasons."
"Look, Niall, I'm not expecting to date anyone I meet here. Sometimes, people just want to fuck, and it's okay too." I explained a bit condescendingly. "Why do you even care who I fuck?"
I held my breath when he suddenly bent down, crashing his mouth against mine. I thought I'd be tempted to push him away but the way his lips pressed on mine made me feel dizzy. He took a step closer and my back hit the wall gently as his lips parted mine. He tasted amazing and I couldn't help but let out a low whimper. He swallowed it, kissing me deeper and my hands found the front of his shirt, gripping it tight. When he broke the kiss, he brushed his lips gently on mine and a shiver crossed my back as my eyes fluttered open.
"That's why."
"Mm, no." I let out in a whisper, shaking my head lightly. "No, you get on my nerves, and I know I get on yours, too."
"You get on my nerves because I can't stop thinking about you." he admitted in a murmur. "That's so fucking annoying. I just can't fire you, and at the same time, I can't handle myself when you're near. So I try to be rude to you. I hoped it would make me like you less."
"And how's that working for you?"
This time, his lips curled and he chuckled, making me smile too. "Clearly not good." he confessed, moving his face away as his eyes roamed on mine. "I never thought I'd have feelings for my assistant. I guess it's useless to try and deny it, now."
I tilted my head, suddenly endeared by the man that annoyed me the most only a few minutes before. "Then embrace it."
Slowly, he moved closer and leaned his forehead against mine. "Okay."
My eyes fluttered close again when he got near me and I moved my chin up until my mouth reached his again. I never thought my heart could beat that hard inside my chest, so hard that it was threatening to jump out. His hands slid from my shoulders to my arms and when he gripped my waist, I held my breath.
"I really want you." he whispered, pressing his body against mine.
I had to swallow hard when I felt him push his half-hard cock against my thigh and let out a low "Fuck." under my breath.
"I just don't want to go too fast." he whispered as I felt one of his hand move up on my stomach and brush against one of my breasts. "I want to do this right. I want to bring you on a date, get to the who you really are, and take my time to fall so deeply in love with you that I can never fall out of it."
"You're doing very good."
He smiled more and chuckled, kissing my lips gently. "Do you want to try?"
I couldn't believe what was happening and at the same time, it was not really surprising that all this annoyance towards each other was hiding something else. It was so obvious now that I had liked him since day one and just didn't want to admit it to myself.
"Yes."
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ciggylungz · 4 years
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Eat your heart out
Blurb night- 1.8k words
(request: ok but what if u wrote one where y/n is a virgin and they finally did it after dating for months and then Harry's friends came to visit him and you overheard h talking how bad u are and all that angsty stuff...)
 Virginity
The word means a something different to everyone. Some people save it for marriage, some don’t care about it, others tie it to religion. It’s all up to personal interpretation and value. For Y/n, it’s not that she didn’t want to lose it, she just never felt ready until she met Harry.
She had met him through a mutual friend, they were both invited to a birthday party and just got on so well they decided to get to know each other better. Dates, hangouts, and many hours spent together later they had become official and now they’re 5 months in and going strong.
A few nights ago, she had finally felt ready. She had communicated to Harry at the start of their relationship she’d never been intimate with someone before and it might take her a while to feel ready to be so vulnerable with him, but eventually the night came and while it was a bit clumsy filled with trial and error she thought over all it was a special experience. Harry had made her feel comfortable, he had made her feel like she was beautiful and made him happy, so she’s completely confused and crestfallen at the words she’s hearing come from his mouth echoing through the spacious house.
“mate, it was bad. Like proper awful, I almost gagged at some points from how bad it was.”
A cruel laugh followed his words. Her chest felt hollow, like her heart had caved in just from his words. She couldn’t bring herself to stop listening, she guessed she was just a glutton for punishment because the hurtful words just kept coming.
“I thought being with a virgin would be hot!”
She heard the voice of one of his friends exclaim, she had never hated the sound of someone’s voice before that moment.
“so did I! it’s why I put up with the wait, thought she’d be bloody tight and a good shag, but I was dead wrong. She barely got wet; she didn’t even taste good! I couldn’t stay hard for shit, pretended to cum and everything just to get it over with. I didn’t know sex could be so bad!”
Another round of cackles and random bullying comments were made about Y/n among the group of men, at this point Y/n felt worthless. She felt like she failed, she felt dirty and stupid. Everything he’d ever said to her was now being questioned. she swears she could vomit.
“Jesus H, what a waste of a pussy innit? Don’t worry can get some girls lined up for you this weekend. Can trip and have a proper orgy, deserve it after pity fucking that dud.”
“Thank god! Need a good fuck after that nightmare. Line up a good few for me yea?”
Humiliated didn’t even come close to describing how Y/n felt right now. Not only had her boyfriend objectify and completely embarrass her to his friends, she’d just heard first hand that he hated it so much he had faked his orgasm, and was planning to cheat on her with multiple women in less than 24 hours. She was sick, her heart stomped on and her feelings completely crushed. She’d never felt so worthless, stupid, used and disgusted with herself. She had confided in Harry how she was scared to be vulnerable, afraid to be intimate with someone because she wasn’t ready to be so open and bare with another person. Harry had told her how she was worth the wait, how she was beautiful and he loved her but now she knew none of it was real. He’d just wanted to be with a virgin, and he hated the experience.
The vomit crawling up her throat had finally reached her mouth, the girl darting towards the bathroom to empty her churning stomach into the toilet tears springing to her eyes as her body tried desperately to purge out all the hurt yet the waves kept coming.
If anyone had heard her getting sick, they didn’t care since no one even called out her name. The girl didn’t even feel like an actual person anymore, just a defective object who was disposable. She couldn’t be here anymore, the emotional pain starting to manifest into physical symptoms as well. Her head pounding, stomach turning and ears ringing. It took all the energy she had left to shove some of her things into her bag to take back to her flat.
The girl was too humiliated to even face them, to confront Harry or mention what she had heard. She internalized all of it, pulling her hood up and ducking out of the front door silently. She suddenly felt lucky that the living room wasn’t in view of the entry way so she could slip out without detection.
 ----
y/n didn’t bother to leave a not nor text Harry about her departure, making her way on foot to the underground to get home. She hadn’t driven her car there since Harry had picked her up, and she didn’t have any service to get an uber so she opted for the easiest option.
The majority of the train ride she spent with her head down, thoughts racing as she desperately tried to suppress the sobs begging to be let out. she somehow managed to keep it together until she got into her flat, as soon as she shut the door her back was against it pained sobs wracking through her body.
When her bottom finally hit the ground she was reminded of the bruises she’d woken up with on her hips and ass from where Harry had gripped onto her.
Maybe that’s why he made me switch to all fours, he was so disgusted he couldn’t even look at my face. Maybe that’s why he seemed to get angry, I couldn’t make him feel good.
The soreness didn’t even compare to the internal injuries his words had left her with. It was as if she’d been clawed from the inside out, every hurtful word slashed at her organs. Her mind burning with self-hatred, insecurity and disgust towards herself. Y/n had always been insecure, she struggled with body image and confidence since she was a child and this ridicule of her natural state and what was supposed to be special tore her limb from limb.
She didn’t know how long it had been, she seemed to zone out finding herself laying in fetal position on the wood floors of her home. Her back was still pressed into the cold steel door, using what was left of her to stand to her feet and lock it, sliding the chain lock as well just to make sure there would be no chance of anyone disrupting her decent into the void of pain.
She didn’t get much sleep that night, her head wouldn’t stop pounding and her thoughts never eased up. She’d gotten a text from Harry asking where she was, her only sending a simple message saying she was feeling poorly and went home in reply.
Harry left her on read.
It must have been many hours since the sun had rose then set again in the time she’d laid still between her covers. She hadn’t gotten up to use the bathroom or eat. She didn’t feel like a person anymore. She didn’t feel like she held any worth in any sense to anyone, seeing as no one had reached out for her in the hours she’d been MIA, not even the boy who supposedly loved her.
Y/n shifted her gaze to the clock on her nightstand, she then knew it was Sunday. It had been almost an entire 48 hours since she’d moved from her spot and by now she was sure Harry had been balls deep in numerous other women. Women who could give him everything she failed to, women who he desired and could get off with. They must be everything she’s convinced she’s not. Pretty, sexy, desirable, loveable, worthy of Harry’s intimacy. Something he regretted ever engaging in with his own girlfriend.
 ---
It was 10 in the morning on Monday when Y/n’s phone finally dinged. By Sunday night she had managed to drag herself to the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth, yet she only then returned to her bed to lay in a depressed shame filled coma of sorts, she truly felt so heart broken it was like her body was giving up on her.
She caved and looked at the message, feeling another stomp on her deflated heart when she saw it was from Harry-
“you alright? Stopped by your work, they said you haven’t called out but you never showed?”
Y/n had forgotten about her job in her spiral, but even now she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew she was already on thin ice with her manager for taking so many days off to see Harry preform or visit him on his breaks so it wasn’t a surprise if she got fired. She didn’t care though; she knew if she lost her job she’d be another month late on rent and end up being evicted since she couldn’t scrape together enough for last month either. This would lead to her likely having to move back home with her mother or find a hostile somewhere for women, yet she didn’t care. It seems silly that something as simple as someone commenting on her sexual skills would put her in such a state, but that’s not really the main focal point in her mind.
The thing that hurt most was knowing Harry had only been with her to get to take someone’s virginity, and she’d disappointed him so badly he talked shit about her to his friends and made plans to cheat on her. Harry had completely disrespected, objectified and crushed her, and he didn’t even know she knew but she decided he shouldn’t have to know she knew what he said for him to realize it’s wrong. He’s an adult man who knew full well how hurtful and horrid his comments were about someone he had claimed to love. He should have spoke to her if he felt that way, yet instead he played her and tossed her out like rubbish.
Harry broke her heart, one he’d known was already fragile and timid. He’d still said all those nasty things about her even after the nights he’d let her cry into her chest about how much she hated her body, how bad her self-image and confidence was, the way she felt like she was never good enough for anyone. His actions only confirmed what she’d always feared to be true.
Harry didn’t love her.
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kylosupremeimagines · 4 years
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Charlie Barber NSFW A-Z
(Special thanks to @driversmutbucket​ for lending me a helping hand with this! I think that the things we did with this turned out great, especially what they wrote!) 
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Charlie loves to bask in post-orgasm bliss with you. Just laying together silently, drawing soft patterns on your skin. If it isn’t in the bedroom/home (which sometimes it certainly isn’t), a post-shag cigarette (a social smoker only since Henry was born) or drink at a bar where he can hold your hand and whisper sweet sentiments in your ear. 
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Charlie is a breast man. He loves grazing his fingers over your clothed breasts discreetly in public. He loves coming up behind you at home and creeping his hands up your top and just cupping them. When you sleep he will spoon you and cradle your tit. When you have sex his mouth and hands are all over them, kneading, sucking, squeezing and flicking your nipples. He will run his cock over them and between them - almost cumming on the spot if you let him titty fuck you. Charlie doesn’t look in the mirror often, he isn’t egotistical about his looks. His favorite body parts of his own are his hands, how big they look against yours, how one splayed covers a lot of your stomach or your ass. How much of your breast he can fit into his grasp. He is very visual, after all. 
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) Charlie prefers his cum inside you, your mouth, your pussy, your ass, he doesn’t care. But he prefers not to cum on you, or on himself. A neat and tidy person by nature, this extends to his bedroom preferences, having to clean up cum ruins the post-orgasmic bliss. 
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He would love to have another woman join you in the bedroom but doesn’t know how to ask, just yet. It’s a matter of time before you come across his pornhub history and figure it out. Maybe he will just leave it up purposely for you to find... E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) As much as any typical guy in their mid-30s. He certainly gained experience when he studied performing arts, before meeting his ex-wife. He knows what he is doing, his confidence growing when you give him feedback. F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) Any position where he can get his hands, or mouth on your breasts. Particularly fond of any variation of cowgirl, on the bed, sofa, chair, floor… G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) It can go either way with Charlie, sometimes you’ll laugh and giggle like teenagers, especially if fooling around in a public or semi-public place. Other times Charlie can be very serious, whispering sweet declarations of love and affection.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) Trimmed, neat and tidy, no fro’s to be found here. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) For the latter years of his marriage, he felt as if his sex life was lacking, and since then he didn’t get much action as he prefers not to have one night stands with people he doesn’t know. But when he gets to know you enough and grows close to you, as soon as you get involved with one another, he’s going to treat you as perfectly as he can. Charlie will fulfill your every sexual need and desire, making sure that you’re as pleased as can be. 
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Charlie had to rely on masturbation for a while, seeing as how Nicole barely - if at all - satisfied him for about a year before the divorce started. And as soon as it did, he couldn’t really rely on others doing it for him. Thus he resorted to masturbation. He’d mostly do it when Henry isn’t with him at his apartment, and will get really into it. Why not treat yourself right? He’d do everything to get into the mood, such as turn down the lights and put on some of his favorite porn. As he’s actually doing it, it’ll pretty much be what you expect. 
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Charlie isn’t heavily into any kinks in particular but is partial to switching, age play, light BDSM and breeding kink. 
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) Not that he’s too mum of a traditionalist, but Charlie prefers to have sex in his bed, or somewhere around the house when Henry isn’t around. It allows for privacy so that you can get as wild as you want, and there’s no risk of anyone walking in on you. M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) You caring for and nurturing his son, Henry, does things for him. Parenting is important to Charlie because his own parents were absent and problematic. When you treat Henry like your own, it makes Charlie want to rip your clothes off and show you how much he appreciates you. Not to mention knock you up with your own baby.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He would despise someone who is too self centered and mostly cares about their own sexual needs, and not his own as well. He thinks it’s only fair to be concerned with what you both want. With that being said, he also doesn’t like when his partner is too demanding of him. Of course he wouldn’t mind if you get a bit dominant, but if you don’t let  him have any say from time to time, that’s when he’s going to be turned off. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Oh boy, Charlie loves receiving oral,especially with its unexpected and you suddenly are on your knees and pulling at the waistband of his trousers. He also loves eating you out, how his whole mouth can fit over your vulva and your reactions to his tongue. He is skilled at oral sex, especially once he learns what you like. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) It all really depends on the mood. Sometimes he will be on the slower side when he just wants to show his love for you. He will cherish every second, being more romantic than usual. Other times when you both really just need it, he will be fast and rough enough to leave you sore in the morning. However, most of the time it will be a good mixture of both. 
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Sometimes you’ve just got to settle with a quickie. When it’s needed while either of you are in a rush, then he’s more than happy to do one with you. Even if it’s just quick, he’s still going to be doing wonders to you that will have you wanting more. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) After spending the majority of the few years before meeting you in a rocky, mostly sexless marriage, Charlie was making up for it now. Role playing, different fetishes - he would try it, if it wasn’t for you, you would usually fall in a pile in raptures of laughter (like the time you tried to play teacher/student and you couldn’t keep a straight face when you forgot basic times tables). S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) If Charlie is really into it, then he could go on for a while, no matter how many rounds you want to go for. His desire to satisfy you is more than enough to keep him going in bed. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Charlie doesn’t really like to use toys on himself, because he can handle good old masturbation when it’s just him. However, when it comes to you, if you have any toys of your own, then he’s more than happy to use them on you. If it’s something common like a dildo or vibrator, he probably would know how to use it. If it’s something a little less common, then he may need you to explain how you like it to be used on you. But no worries, in no time he would be able to get the hang of it! U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He’s teased his son for years to entertain him when things got boring or he wanted to make him laugh, but he can translate that into sexual teasing for you. He won’t ever become too overbearing with it to the point it turns you off. While out in public, he may whisper things to get you in the mood for sex later back at him. Or he’ll teasingly make you wait for intimacy to see how long it takes for you to cave in for it. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) When Henry is home, of course he’s going to try to be quiet as to not lead the boy to figure out what’s going on. But when it’s just you two in the apartment, he isn't’t going to hold back. Charlie will moan with every little pleasure, signifying that he’s enjoying what’s happening. He’ll also grunt while he’s the one pumping in and out of you. He’ll also say things such as “you like that?” in a low voice, just barely loud enough for you to hear. W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) At first, he was worried that he would not be good enough in bed since nicole was the last one that he was intimate with, and it wasn’t the best in his last year of marriage. He was self conscious at first but after the beginning of your sexual relationship, he got right back into it and was more than confident with pleasuring you beyond belief. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) He is l o n g. Uncircumcised. To be honest he has a really pretty dick, never had you found a penis so blimmin’ appealing. He is the first person you have slept with who has been able to hit that sweet spot. You tell him that all the time, usually in between moans. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Especially after the time he had been without much sex during the last year of his marraige as well as until he got together with you, he’s going to havea pretty high sex drive for a while. He won’t get too crazy and demand it, but you’ll be having sex at least a few times a week if you can manage it; and boy would it be so worth it to be intimate with him.Z =
ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) After Charlie has satisfied you enough, he will want to hold you close and take in the soft moment after having gone full in with sex. Content himself, he will end up falling asleep as long as you’re in bed together, knowing how well things went.
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sweetsubharry · 4 years
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hiiii, do u have any fic recommendation for highschool aus?
Hiya! 💕 yes I do! It’s one of my favourite classic aus :) Just as a warning! There’s 36 fics under the read more tag so it’s a longer style post! I hope you like these! and just in case no one reads it at the end I’ll say it up here too! Make sure you read the tags and stay safe!
I was also unsure if any set in hogwarts counted? or any with a/b/o elements so I left them out but if anyone wants those too just send in an ask :)
You Can be My Cliche by DreamWeaver14
Basically Lou and Hazza are best friends and Louis is jealous and overly protective... But it all works out in the end once Lou and Harry have movie night. SMUT
Free with You Tonight by sunniskies
Harry's 16 and sophomore, Louis is a senior and his best friend, but somehow Harry's not sure that's enough anymore.
Essentially, high school au fluff involving first kisses and Niall mixing bad drinks.
A Real Work of Art by lululawrence
“I don’t understand,” Liam said for probably the fiftieth time in ten minutes. “You have to explain again how this is a bad thing.”
“Leeeeyummm,” Harry whined into the phone as he leaned his head onto his desk. “I felt like this year was my year for getting his attention, you know? That senior year I would finally get Logan Thompson to realize I exist! But he’s in almost every single one of my classes, Li. How am I supposed to survive that?”
“Easily,” Liam answered, with the same matter of fact tone his voice always took when Harry was in one of his fits. “He doesn’t know you exist, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Right?”
Or the one where Harry calls on an old friend, the super popular Louis Tomlinson, to help him change his look to capture the heart of Logan. Things only mostly go as planned.
into another (another) serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo
Harry wants this year to be different - wants it to be the year that he finally gets over this stupid crush. He’s going to uni, he needs to decide what he wants to do with his life.
Instead, he’s deciding what he wants to do to Louis Tomlinson.
Or: Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.
My love, he makes me feel like nobody else, nobody else by SilverShadow1
Harry was invited to a high school end-of-term party where he's ready to let loose, get drunk and perhaps regret his choices, or not.
OR
The one where Harry screams, 'Daddy!' at a party and what follows is the best night of his life.
Kiss me by carebearlarrie
Where Harry does a TikTok challenge and kisses his crush (Louis) ft. sweater paw Harry.
Because We Can by KrisStylinson
Harry's the bizzare new kid who likes flowers too much, Louis' the epitome of punk who's not as smooth as he seems. Those two things shouldn't mix as beautifully as they do.
A nice, long journey through Harry and Louis' intersecting lives, starting with the day they meet in high school—including meddling friends, a Styles-Tomlinson family Christmas, a first time, and a couple's holiday in Paris.
You're Still The One I Run To. by brooklynbis
Harry's favourite weather by a mile was snow. There was something about the cold flakes of snow that was just so peaceful. The few times he had experienced snow, everything just stopped for a few days.
There was one thing Harry hated about the snow, however. Having to try and get home in it.
________________________
AKA it snows and Harry and Louis get stranded at college. Fluff and lots of cuddling ensues.
Way to Your Heart by fallenflowercrowns
High school AU, where Louis is in a band and Harry likes to come to the rehearshals for no particular reason. Punk Louis with a lot of tattoos and everything. Shy Harry with an angel face and not many friends. Strangers to lovers. Quick sex in the rehearshals' room (just handjob or blowjob) Happy end.
Harry pines but is oblivious, Louis is a punk with a big heart, Ziam shag behind everyone's backs and Nick is actually not in love with Harry.
All I want for christmas is you by Tita
The one where Louis is a pining punk, Harry is the school’s sweetheart, and a miss sent text at a Christmas party turns out to be the best possible present.
Can I Walk Your Cute Face To Class by orphan_account
It's Harry's first day of High School and he's nervous. He meets Louis.
Or
They meet and they have lunch together but they don't actually eat anything. (and it's not because I forgot that's what people generally do during lunch.. not at all)
Touch by kotabear24
Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.
All I Need is Oxygen (and You) by lululawrence
There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.
With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).
It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.
Louis Tomlinson.
Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.
I don't care where we go, just keep me close by Eversincefiveboys
Louis has to go on summer camp and he absolutely doesn't want to because he is 16 and too old for this. Then he meets the boy with the curls and the dimples and suddenly he doesn't want this camp to be over 
Maybe it's All Part of a Plan by promisingstyles
Christmas High School AU. Harry is sick, Louis talks way too much and much too fast. They meet in the toilets. 
I made a map of your stars by brightbluelou   
Harry does not have a crush on Louis Tomlinson. Yes, Louis is very pretty and funny, and Harry may have had more than a few inappropriate thoughts about him, but he certainly doesn’t like him. (Except for the fact that he totally does.) or, Harry is the shy boy in the back of the class that no one really notices. Louis is the loud, outgoing football player that everybody likes. 
All Part of the Plan by alwaysinmyheartlarry   
Harry Styles is a member of the marching band who has an insane crush on Louis Tomlinson--the amazing senior who plays on the varsity football team at school. 
We’re on Fire Now (And I Could Burn in it All Day) by orphan_account   
“Thanks, Harry.” His voice is as soft as silk when he replies and Harry is so tempted to kiss him there and then, but would feel too much like he is taking advantage of Louis’ vulnerability in that moment. “Now let’s bake some fucking cookies.” He removes his hand and Louis lets go of his wrist, laughing. “Hearing you swear is so wrong. It’s like an angel punching someone in the face. It just doesn’t fit.” Harry gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I swear all the time. I’m a right rebel.” Louis laughs again, bright and beautiful, and Harry smiles down at him.
or
A shameless high school AU where Louis is a footballer, Harry is a photographer, Liam is blissfully unaware and Niall is his usual self.
first position, the mood is set by hiswittlehands
Louis bites down on his lip. "You...god, they look so good on you. Shows off your arse and your...your thighs, Haz." He runs his hand along the skin there then, relishing how soft and pliant it is even with all the muscle. "They shouldn't have even let you play. Should, should have sent you straight home for...fuck, indecency or breaking the dress code or summat."
Or, I literally have no idea what the fuck I just wrote but it involves dodgeball, short shorts, and thigh fucking.
(i didn't mean to) fall in love tonight by zouisclimax
Harry texts him back a thumbs up emoji before leaning forward and throwing up again. He groans, but stands after he’s done, wiping his mouth with toilet paper, and flushing the toilet.
He washes his mouth out as best as he can before steeling himself and heading back to class, trying his best not to cry. He tells himself that there is no point in worrying when he doesn’t even know if there is anything to worry about yet.
He still feels sick.
[or, the American boarding school AU where Harry's infatuated with Louis and one night flips his whole world upside-down]
falling for you, i can't keep away by hegotthedagger
Harry wants Louis really bad and Louis might want him just as much.
I see the love light in your eyes by larrycaring
For as long as Harry can remember, Louis has always been his best friend.
There are a few constant things in Harry’s life: his family, this town he’s grown up in, and Louis.
He had his other friends, of course, but Louis had always been and still was the person that Harry was closest to. Maybe it was due to the fact that they live next to each other, and that, since the first night they’d talked, when he and Louis shared a conversation on their conjoining roofs, they instantly hit off, and a friendship developed. Or maybe it was that Louis was always so cheeky, almost the opposite of Harry, but it complimented Harry’s slow and thoughtful way of life perfectly. Either way, it just kind of happened.
or an AU where Louis and Harry are very much in love. Featuring football & late night rendezvous.
Translation of the fic in spanish by @lachrimose_: click here (wattpad) In russian by Hewassixteen: click here (ficbook)
You Have Bewitched Me, Body and Soul, and I Love, I Love, I Love You by Storyofmythigh
Harry is quiet. Louis isn’t.
Louis hates reading. Harry loves words.
They find a way.
Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun
Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.
Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.
Kiss me (this feels like falling in love) by Ambros
- Five times Louis wanted to kiss Harry (and one time he did).
In This Light by kiwikero
Harry gets a position on the school yearbook staff, which is fine until he falls in love with Louis Tomlinson through the lens of his camera.
❤ For Effort by FallingLikeThis 
When Harry Styles lets his team down during gym class, resulting everyone having to run laps, he expects the worst. But the backlash never comes.
Harry's crush, Louis Tomlinson, may or may not have something to do with that.
Last First Kiss by Kikacat
High School AU in which Harry is outed and can't work out why no one seems to care, whilst also dealing with his crush. Super supportive family and friends. Trigger warning for some of the social media comments Harry receives. If I've missed any tags, let me know
let me get your heart racing by orphan_account
Even asleep, Harry finds himself so hooked to this boy. It’s crazy. Months ago, Louis wouldn’t have noticed him. He’s just an ordinary guy, so that’s no surprise. And Louis... Louis is everything.
Harry leaves immediately.
or a highschool au where Harry's sure that Louis will never fall for him, and where he's also wrong.
i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode
Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.
put your head on my shoulder by wayfared
Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.
My Only Sunshine by DontLetHimGo
Harry and Louis have known each other since the start of everything.
When Harry is only a few weeks old, and Louis is two, the older boy is immediately intrigued by the little person in the carry cot. Jay knows that it will be difficult to keep her son away from her best friend's little boy.
Completely unaware (you make me smile) by deblond
Five times everyone thinks that Harry and Louis are dating (and the one time they are).
it's kinda hot in here by ballsdeepinjesus 
“Is that a moth on your stomach?”
or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room
we should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team by ellisaco
Harry's not very good at football, but he's aces at cheering Louis on.
Youth Meant to Be Beautiful by Turtles
Highschool AU, Louis is the footy captain and Harry is a cheerleader. Cliche ahoy!
every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons
Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.
The Birds Still Sing by orphan_account
The thing is, Louis thinks he already knows Harry's secret. He just doesn't know how to tell him he knows.
every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons
Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.
Stay safe and read the tags guys!! ❤
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This Is How It Feels (number five x reader)
A/N: i made it into a fic,, like a highschool au,, hope you enjoy like,, idk, u know them typical fics where its like ‘i dare you to graft them’ or ‘pretend to date’ and then then end up liking each other or,, i dunno. I got pure carried away sorry.(ok so i made some names up for people so, your best friend is: Beth and Beths older brother is: Dante) i havent proof read sorry :(
spazclaiire said: hii could i request headcanons or a fix of excuses five has used to hold your hand or ‘four times five had an excuse to hold your hand and the one time he went for it’ please? thank youu
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Books weighed down your arms as they spilled over the threshold of your carrying limits, they were heavy, a mix of ring binders and oversized textbooks were making you sway like a drunk man. People barging past in steady streams didn’t help your balancing act either, stumbling every few seconds hoping that the library got closer quicker. 
Swinging open the door to the library your eyes scan the room for the table you and your friends usually sit at and by ‘usually’ you actually mean every single break you get, whether its just for 5 minuets or the full hour you get for lunch or free periods. The table in question even had all your names written on the underside along with other random scribblings and doodles. You make eye contact with a few people on your table as you get closer.
“Y/n, I’ve got some tea to spill, and it involves you!” Beth excitably suggests. Beth always had some new tea to spill, she was a see all hear all person, it also helped that her older brother was in the year above and in the group of the schools self proclaimed ‘bad boys’. She always knows what they’re planning, the who, what, why and where, she had it down to a T.
Speaking of ‘T’, any tea involving you wasn’t good, there had been drama circulating about you before and it took long enough for that to die down. You sigh, hoping it’s got nothing to do with the group of ‘bad boys’. “Go on then, spill.”
“Five Hargreeves has his eyes on you.” Of course, Five was the year above and one of the smartest students in the entire school. The only reason he even knew who you were is because his best friend is Beth’s brother and you were in his AP physics. He was also classed as the fittest boy in school with the worst reputation yet the cleanest slate. 
“For god’s sake, why?” The last thing you wanted was for Five to actually care about who you were, he was a heart breaker, something that you just didn’t need.
“I’m not too sure, I haven’t heard much about the plan, but there is a plan so just be cautious. He’s probably after you because you’re fit.” You smile at her words. “Are you in the art building for lunch again?” You just nod in response.
You had been spending an increasing amount of time in the art buildings, it was just a soft and aesthetically pleasing environment to be in and it meant you’d actually get your work done. You could sit and draw for hours but with how hectic life was the art buildings was a safe getaway. So at lunchtime that’s where you found yourself, aimlessly painting the view out of the window, fields and trees and streams filled the canvas. You were in your own world, minding your own business. 
“Your painting is really pretty, but not as pretty as you.” There it was, not only half a day after being warned about Five Hargreeves he was already trying to chat you up. He was leant against a wall behind you, scanning your figure and the painting. “And I was here thinking you were just a brain and a pretty face.” It was a pitiful, low effort attempt and a half-arsed compliment.
“What do you want, Hargreeves?” It may of sounded harsh but you didn’t want to deal with his bad attempts at flirting.
“Harsh much,” He jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Listen I need a favour, all you have to do is walk out of this building holding my hand and pretend to date me for about 2 days maybe.” A shockingly fake smile spread across his face as he held his hand out.
“So let me guess,” You tapped your finger on your chin, mockingly thinking. “I’ll pretend to date you, you’ll win some sort of bet and then the best part is when you tell everyone we shagged then you dumped me right after!” You returned his bittersweet fake smile. “I’m going to have to pass Hargreeves, I’d rather not be apart of one of your silly little games.” 
With a tut, he turned around to leave the block not before having the last word. “You’ll fall in love with me eventually y/n, they always do.” You could help but to scoff as he walked out of the room, he was too cocky, all the years he always had any girl he ever wanted to drop at his feet but not you.
Time ticked away slowly until it came to AP Physics, it was a brutal way to end the day often ending with being completely worn out. You were concentrating on rearranging the equations that needed to be used, it was going well until a piece of scrunched paper landed where you were writing. You simply brush it to the side and continue with your work, you had a faint idea who it was from seen as Five sat on the opposite side of your table of 4, ideal, you know.
“y/n.”  His foot playfully tapped yours, causing you to roll your eyes. “Open it.” 
So you did, only to be met with the more than classy words ‘my offer still stands ;)’ You couldn’t believe it, looking him in the eyes you pretended to ponder his decision, swiftly followed by tearing the note up and sliding it back over to him. Fives mouth hung open, you smugly go back to what you were working on. 
Five was relatively quite for the rest of the class, resulting in it going much quicker than it normally would. He would sometimes answer questions but other than that there was no more chew from Five. In a blink of an eye it was time to go home to rest and recuperate from a long day of lessons, to prepare for the exact same the next day, the same as you do every day.
Five paced around his room, he hadn’t lost a bet yet and he wasn’t going to start losing them now. It was a simple bet, make y/n fall for him. Five didn’t particularly want to follow through with this bet, it wasn’t fair on y/n seen as she hadn’t done anything wrong to Five. Dante had only made Five do the bet as he knew Five used to have a slight thing for y/n, it was almost comedically convenient that Dante’s younger sister was best friends with y/n, Dante couldn’t help himself whenever y/n was around his house with Beth to make a comment about it. But despite all this, he couldn’t lose the bet.
The next day, Five had a plan, he knew that in AP Physics the teacher was about to set a new project to be completed in pairs, so naturally he went straight to the teacher. “Sir, for that paired project I really think I should work with y/n, we’d work so well together.” He practically begged his teacher.
“I’ll think about it Five, but if I do place you together, please make an effort to improve your behaviour. It’s your last year and you have such great potential, don’t waste it.” The spiel was met by a roll of Fives eyes followed by a muttered ‘sure’. Five regularly got this talk all the time, everyone says that he needs to focus his academic knowledge into something, anything, but he’s just not motivated by anything. Everything had either been invented or is being invented so there was just no point in trying.
The weekend drew closer with every ticking minuet, teasing you with every small movement of the hands, counting down like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were sat in your last lesson, AP Physics, took your seat and took out your supplies. You lazily observed as the rest of your class walked in, you gave and received a few smiles to and from various classmates until last person the last person in, Five Hargreeves, he waltzed into the room with confidence oozing from him. 
Before Five had a chance to speak the teacher was already up and writing the title on the board ‘electromagnetism’. As soon as the words appeared on the board a collective groan of despair was heard throughout the room. 
“So,” The teacher started, clearly enjoying the sudden drop in mood. “I know how much you all love electromagnetism, so what were going to do is work in pairs to create a powerpoint and a poster covering all the aspects of electromagnetism!” The room livened up a bit at the prospect of working with a friend, that was until the teacher continued. “I have put you in pairs, so listen in as I call the pairs out and then move next to your new physics partner.”
People moved about the room to sit next to their project partner, you listened closely to hear who you’d be partnered with this time. “Y/n?” “Sir.” “You’re with Five Hargreeves.” You see Fives face light up as he slides his books across the desk the the seat next to yours, the smug grin never leaving his face once. 
You begin to write down what you had to do for the presentation, feeling Fives eyes stare into the side of your head. “So over the weekend can you do as much research on magnetic flux, flux density and field strength and I’ll cover BH curves and permeability, does that sound good?”  
“Why don’t we just meet up over the weekend and make a start together?” He nudged your elbow, your pen run up your page, ruining the word you were writing.
“Can’t. I’m working all weekend.” Which was met with a small ‘o’ from Five, he turns way and messily scribbles on a sheet of paper and then slides it back over to you. 
“Well if you can’t meet up this weekend then at least have my number.” You slightly smile and fold the piece of paper up and slip it into your notebook. Before Five could slip in another word the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. You say your goodbyes and begin the walk home, it was a fairly long walk home maybe reaching around 30 minuets but it was always a pretty sight to walk through the woods during the spring, pink petals from the cherry blossoms littered the ground, colouring the dull world waking up from winter.
Once home you stared at the crumpled paper with Fives number on it, also noticing the smaller scribbled snapchat username. It felt like a smarter decision just to add him on snap for now but save his number in your contacts, just in case. As soon as you added him he accepted within a matter of seconds, followed by a picture message ‘hey x’ it read. You simply send a picture back of your blank wall and place your phone down, you let a small laugh as your phone buzzes again. 
Sitting at your desk, you pulled out your books and your laptop to make a start on the physics work. You just couldn’t help but check what Five had responded, clicking his name you were met with his face in a pout. You respond with a picture of you sticking your tongue out, which got a response quickly. This stream of photos carried on until the early hours of the morning not even realising the time and that in a mere 6 hours you had to go to work, you send ‘night’ to Five and place your phone on the side, a small smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.
Five laid awake, considering calling the bet off all together. Hours of talking to y/n only felt like minuets, Five wanted to get to know y/n on his own terms not on the terms of a bet. He shouldn’t of accepted the bet to begin with, his competitiveness got the best of him. 
The weekend went far to quickly for your liking, mixed with work and school work. Five was also non-stop messaging you throughout the weekend, he found a way to talk to you about everything and anything, often sending long video messages of him walking round his giant house, you could always hear the shouts of his siblings in the background.
Monday nights were the one night of the week that you enjoyed, Monday was movie night at Beth’s house. The night usually went that straight after school you’d take over the living room, bringing out the blankets and extra pillows, you would both then decide what films to watch and what food to get. Once that was all done you’d both bunker down and start the movies, getting ready for a long night.
About halfway through the first movie Five and Dante slowly made their way into the main room, stealing some of your pizza before sitting down on the sofa to join you. Five took a seat next to you while Dante sat on an armchair, Five pulled your blanket so it was covering both of you, leaning back into the sofa you could feel physically how close he was to you and it was driving you mad.
Beth caught your eyes and wiggled her eyebrows, you responded by sending a cheeky wink with a joking smile. As the night moved on and the movies continued, you and Five slowly moved closer throughout the movie marathon, it couldn’t of been helped, you were both like two magnets. 
The final scene in The Breakfast Club was playing, both Beth and Dante had already fallen asleep, you felt Fives hand touch the side of yours. You slightly push your hand back against his, welcoming the warmth as his touch, your reaction invited him to link his fingers with yours. Light from the TV bounced off the features of his face, defining his angled lines of his face, you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, very handsome. 
The screen of the TV turned dark as you used the remote to switch it off, a dim glow of the moon shone through the open windows, the moment was romantic, overly romantic but it was the sleepiness making you ignore the voice that was screaming that he didn’t mean it, he had an end game and you couldn’t forget that. 
You pulled your hand from Five and lean over to Beth and lightly shake her shoulders. “Beth, its 20 past 1, I think it’s time to go to bed.” She responds by making some unclear noises and began to sit up, you smile and stand up pulling her with you. You spare a glance back at Five before continuing upstairs, unable to stop the tingling feeling in your hand.
Eventually, you had to meet up with Five to work on the physics project, you both hadn’t spoken since Monday night. Well not exactly, Five had been messaging you a lot but you just hadn’t been responding because all you could think about was if he had a possible end game. You didn’t want to get played by Five.
You heard soft steps getting closer, you look up to meet Fives eyes. “Hey.” He spoke in a soft voice in the quiet library. He pulled a chair out from besides you and sat down, pulling his textbooks out of his bag. You both made small talk during your work, it was a nice atmosphere in the library, a nice atmosphere between you and Five with no looming pressure after what happened Monday night.
A breeze drifted through the large room, causing you to break out in goosebumps and shiver. You decided that morning that you could just wear a T-shirt with no jacket as the sun was out, how wrong you were when dark clouds swarmed over. 
“Do you want to borrow my hoodie?” Five asked, but he was already taking it off to give to you.
“Oh no Five it’s okay, it’s my own fault I forgot my jacket. Anyways what would you wear?” Despite how cold you were you really didn’t want to borrow Fives hoodie, he would be just as cold as you were.
“No please y/n, take it. I’ve got an extra jacket in my locker anyways.” He pushed his hoodie into your hands. You could tell he was probably lying about it but you sheepishly took his hoodie and put it on, it was warm and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 
You mutter your thanks, a warm flush coming over your face as you continue to work on your project until your next lesson. Once the bell rang, you both left to opposite directions, you completely forgot that you had Fives hoodie on until you sat next to Beth in english to be passed a scrap piece of paper with scribbled writing ‘That’s not your hoodie???’ you smile at the sheet and just write back ‘Five’s’ 
You didn’t see Five for the rest of the day until you got a message during the last lesson. ‘meet me near math class at the end of the day x’ It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. You send an ‘ok’ and continue with your lesson, constantly distracted by the ticking arms of the clock, counting down it’s last minuets.
As the clock strikes 3 you make your way to the math department, you were fighting against the tide as everyone rushed to get out of school. As the crowed begun to thin you saw Five standing outside the maths classroom, standing hoodie-less. He made his way towards you, smile present on his face.
“Where’s this jacket that was meant to be in your locker?” He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.
“I mean my hoodie looks better on you than it did on me so I don’t mind.” You smile at him and begin your decent through the school. “So I was thinking we could just like, go for a walk? It’s just nice spending time with you.”
You both aimlessly wandered around town until finding a small cafe to reside in when the weather started to turn, Five had a black coffee and you had a hot chocolate. The room was filled with noise from others in the cafe and also from the outside world that couldn’t reach you in your own little world.
“Five, not to sound daft or anything but are you still trying to do this for the bet or are you being genuine?” You didn’t want to sound harsh but you were still unsure if this was genuine or just an oscar winning act.
“y/n,” He reached over and took your hand. “I called the bet off just before Monday night, as soon as I came to the school and saw you I knew straight away I wanted to be with you.” He ran his thumb gently over your knuckles. “I know you wont trust me right away but I want to make you trust me, I want you to feel the same way about me as I do for you.”
“Okay.”
All it took was that one word to kickstart your time with Five. It started small, handholding any chance he got, he seemed to always need to be close, holding and hugging you. He was so affectionate and almost touched starved, begging like a stray puppy. Five slowly gained your trust and love for him, he had an infinite amount of hoodies and oversized T-shirts, truth be told you were pretty sure Five just loved to see you in his clothes.
You and Five were cuddled up on your bed, he was running his fingers through your hair as light cut through the curtains, lighting the room in a heavenly glow. Five placed a kiss on the side on your head, pulling you closer as he did. 
“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.” You smile and lean into his embrace.
“I think I’m in love with you too, Five.”
800 notes · View notes
everythingoesnk · 5 years
Text
Once in Rockfield Farm (5/5)
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summary; whatever man i just hope u go easy on me and that u enjoy it. thanks to those who read every chapter or sent me beautiful slash encouraging messages saying the story was good, i appreciate it a lot :( i just wish you don’t cringe 2 much
word count; 3 197
warnings; my inability to write good endings
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
********
Ricky Nelson’s divine and comforting voice filled Roger’s Alfa Romeo.
He had it repaired, that’s why you hadn’t been introduced to it yet.
Gazing out the window wasn’t an option, since the weather was foggy and the eternal repetitive picture of trees and empty road wasn’t really entertaining you no more.
As an alternative, you were recollecting flashbacks from your graduation ceremony.
Everything’d been absolutely perfect except for the evident.
The tension between Mary and Roger was palpable, detestably and boringly palpable. None of them told you how the argument went, and you were late to be able to hear anything. Both screaming over each other didn’t contribute to the cause. Mary did him dirty and Roger didn’t make an effort to control his hysteria. Before attempting to sow any peace, they needed time for things to cool down. You could understand both parts and weren't about to take any side.
Everyone, including you, had been wrong at one point.
But forgetting about Mary for a moment, you still had a pending conversation with Roger. And you owned him an apology as well.
The things he said to you at home before the ceremony, even when you were given your diploma, stuck with you. Mind split in two, one side was present in the event and the other replaying Roger’s words claiming that you were ‘stupid’ because you didn’t notice that he cared about you.
Clutching your knees to your chest, you breathed in deeply looking straight ahead.
Roger didn’t speak, and you sighed louder. And louder. Until he laughed a very cute laugh.
“I thought I made it clear the first time,” you said, “I hate not knowing where I’m going”
Roger rolled his window down and rested the arm there. A faint wind messed with his locks.
He didn’t turn to look at you before answering.
“It makes it more enjoyable to me”
“Is it far?”
“It isn’t”
Driving with one hand, Roger switched off the radio.
He didn’t look like he wanted to converse or have anything distract him, hiding the mirrors of his soul behind aviator sunglasses. You could tell he was nervous, making you wonder what was so nerve-racking that wouldn’t let Roger be his talkative and joyful self.
“Fine” you shrugged. “But before we get there I want to tell you something”
He nodded, as if inviting you to go on.
“I talked to Brian about the whole thing long before it blew up. I complained about you supposedly fucking those girls to provoke me, which we all know now it was the ultimate purpose, even if you didn’t shag any in the end. Well,” you sighed, “I’ve been a bitch as well”
Roger locked his eyes on yours instantaneously. You quickly put your head down and clasped your hands together.
His eyes went back to the road.
“I complained about you jumping to conclusions when I literally have no right to condemn it because I did the exact same thing. For weeks I avoided talking to you instead of getting things straight”
You glanced at him without really lifting your head up yet: his hands were gripping firmly the steering wheel.
Blood rushing to your face, you contemplated his profile.
You loved his nose and how it wiggled when he spoke or was deep in thought like it had a life of its own. You loved his chin, his lips, his eyebrows, his ears and his hair. You loved everything. And he was a jerk if he truly believed you didn’t notice he cared about you.
You were hurt that you hurt him for ignoring his feelings to focus on yours not getting brutally broken. That was some fucked up fat shit. You just couldn’t believe he was still somehow interested in you at that point.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I hope you can forgive me, I really do”
“We’re here”
He killed the engine, remained motionless for about fifteen seconds and hopped out of the car.
Blowing out your cheeks as soon as he exited the vehicle felt good. Only a little.
Was it something you said what bothered him? Angered him even? What could that something possibly be? You’d been polite, picking the words with care. Did you hit rock bottom, or was there further to fall? Was he going to tell you he did forgive you but that you should leave it like that? That your relationship was wounded to death? Yeah, we’re cool. ‘t was nice meeting you, have a nice flight to America. But don’t contact me again.
Roger threw open the front seat passenger door and held out his hand for you.
Feeling dizzy you took his hand, and he pulled you towards him.
Only to crash his lips into yours after your chest bumped against his.
Putting his hands on your lower back to steady you both, he worked his lips against your mouth in desperation and agony.
His forehead puckered, it looked like if it were hurting him kissing you.
It only hurt him that he couldn't have done this sooner.
Heart hammering against his ribs, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy and complete.
It was impossible, this much love.
You could feel your skeleton melting. It was getting harder to not fall on your knees. They felt weak, incapable of bearing with your weight right now.
The kiss started being kind of a mess, Roger fast and you trying to catch up with his clumsy rhythm out of eagerness. Your tongue pushed her way into his mouth, and he moved one hand to the back of your neck, holding your head in place.
The roughness made you grunt.
Butterflies swarming hysterically in your stomach and fireworks going off in his chest, you cupped his face in your hands, not planning on breaking the kiss for a while.
He took a few steps forward and soon your back made contact with his car.
You were drowning in euphoria.
Roger set his palms down flat on your sides.
“Roger—“
He ran his thumb over your lip, glanced at you for a brief couple of seconds in which you discovered how much his pupils had dilated -yours must’ve looked identical-.
The tip of your noses touching, he grinned and kissed you again.
Pink cheeks, pulse uncontrollable, arms embracing each other as if your bodies were what could save you from falling apart. That's all you were.
Tilting your head a little you stroked his cheek. He smiled at that.
You didn't miss the gesture and instantly opened your eyes even though you were still kissing, and smiled too closing them again.
Because of the lack of air that was threatening to make your lungs explode, you gradually began to separate. Treading your fingers down his chest, you wrapped them around his rainbow suspenders and sighed contently.
Roger took his time to open his eyes once the kiss finished, totally lulled by the hundreds of millions of sensations his mind and body were putting him through.
Awkwardness washing over your face due to the intimate moment you two just shared in the middle of a random street, you looked over his shoulder so you wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Roger laughed breathlessly and pressed his forehead against yours. You giggled a bit as well, and swallowed the urge to shake your head in disbelief that it finally happened.
He slung an arm around your waist.
“I like you, (Y/N)”
You held your breath.
“I forgive you”
You nodded and told yourself not to cry. Ignoring how much you wanted to.
“Ay,” he said, looking into your eyes and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You smiled big at his exclamation: he must’ve grown so used to hearing you say it that it slipped out of his own mouth, “now it’s when you confess you like me too”
You cackled and rolled your eyes playfully.
“Oh really,” you teased in a whisper. But soon you waved the sarcasm off, this was what you were dying to tell him. It was now. You had to do it, “I like you too, Rog”
He pecked you on the lips, a huge pleasing look on his face.
“God…,” you breathed, the realization hitting you like a tsunami, “it’s all so… I’m so…”
You were mad you couldn’t find the right words.
The corners of Roger’s mouth quirked up.
He flashed you a bright smile, recognizing the signs of everything being a blur himself too even being in the moment yet.
“Me too, sweetheart”
You couldn’t resist it, and went straight to wrap your arms around him in a loving whole-hearted hug.
With your cheek brushing against his cheek you hoped this wasn’t all a dream.
It made you hold him tighter, with a beaming smile that could blind the blind, when you knew this was nothing but real.
“Love,” Roger spoke, not pulling away, “we should go now. We’ll have plenty of time to snuggle”
“Just one more second” you wished into existence.
Gently stroking your back, he took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing into the hug.
More than one second passed by when you agreed it was a reasonable time to let Roger go.
His smile broke into a giggle at you pouting.
“Hold my hand” he said softly.
Resting your chin on his shoulder as you two walked into the building, his thumb caressing your palm, it then hit you that you were in the EMI Record offices yet again.
You raised an eyebrow. Roger watched you.
There were many more commuting people around this time. None of them seemed to pay any attention to none of you, concentrated on their obligations. The place was loud.
Roger didn’t like too many questions, so, for once, you just shrugged.
“You lead”
Once inside the elevator, Roger cracked his knuckles, looking as if he were being escorted to the death row. The four walls of the elevator were suffocating him. Nothing of his earlier behaviour back on the street could be seen, it was like he turned into a different person.
“You alright?”
He pinched his nose.
“After what just happened, I don’t want you to be mad at me”
You narrowed your eyes.
“Why would I be mad at you for?”
He didn’t answer.
“Roger, what—“
The doors opened and a huge group of people stepped into the space. You rolled your eyes and walked closer to Roger’s side.
Seriously, he always seemed to have something up his sleeve.
Tapping your fingers against your lips you couldn’t think of anything he could’ve done to make you angry. He was probably just exaggerating. Although you still didn’t quite get why you were there.
Bouncing on your feet, you stopped when the doors opened again.
13th floor.
You arched an eyebrow. That was were Foster’s office was, if you remembered correctly.
Smoking a cigarette next to Forster's -opened- door, was Paul Prenter. You knew that man. He came from time to time to talk to the boys about Opera, to know if they needed something and to get information about the album's progress in general. However, you noticed that when he paid them a visit, he only acknowledged and cared about Freddie.
He liked him, everybody knew.
You didn’t treat Paul like he were a ballbuster like Roger and Brian did. John, Mary and you weren't comfortable with his presence either but kept it to yourselves.
“Paul?” Roger asked, confused.        
“Rheid contacted me” Paul explained.
Paul looked at you, then at Roger, and then at your hands held together.
“They’re waiting inside. We better come in—“
“We? As we?” Roger pointed at you three. “We are going, you stay out of this”
“Rheid told me—“
Roger dragged you inside the office and closed the door in his face.
Deep in conversation as they were, everyone in the room snapped their heads at the two of you. When you raised your head, it was Rheid who you saw first.
“Roger, (Y/N)” he welcomed with a nod. “Please, take a sit (Y/N)”
Were you blind or did he just point to the chair right in front of the desk? Not like you were the protagonist.
You shook your head and eyed Roger. He was looking at Foster.
Miami was also in the room, you spotted him next to the big window. He waved at you and you smiled a little. Miami was a good person. You liked him. You liked him very much. You felt a bit more comfortable now that you knew he was there.
“Go ahead, (Y/N), sit” Foster insisted. “I’ve got little time and would like to discuss and go over the contract as quickly as possible”
Roger put his hand on your shoulder, and for some reason that made you shiver. He nodded at you to sit down and stood behind you, hands on the back of the chair, suddenly finding the room very hot.
Eyes exploring the room, you were beginning to feel giddy because of the secrecy thick in the air.
Contract?
Foster looked at you in the eye.
“What’s that face, woman? You’re a lucky one”
You turned on your seat to stare at Roger. You caught a glimpse of what seemed to be… fear? No, it couldn't. Fear of what?
Rheid, hooking two glasses in one hand and grasping a bottle in the other, made his way to you but stopped after studying your conduct.
“You didn’t tell her?” Rheid interrupted, wide-eyed, reflecting on yours and Roger’s attitude.
Foster was growing impatient. He slammed the contract down on the table.
“(Y/N),” Roger began, voice weak, so weak you weren’t sure you would understand him if he weren’t to raise it up a bit, “remember when you wandered off with Brian with the bikes? That day Freddie and John were out to town, and I was left alone”
“I do” your heart kicked ferociously.
“I know singing is your passion. Not singing, writing songs it is. Well, performing, so I guess that both. Both, both” he cursed under his breath for stumbling. “You said nothing was holding you back from going to America”
Afraid of what his actions might cause, he gulped the bulge in his throat before daring to lay his eyes on yours.
“Maybe there is something”
Your nails were digging into your palms.
Roger scratched his eyebrow. He felt like if he’d open his mouth his heart would fly out of it and land on your feet. He shut his eyes with a racing heart as he revealed what brought you there.
"I sent Foster a tape of All Too Well I found on the studio that day”
“Pardon?”
You didn't even finish registering what Roger'd done before the word came out of your mouth.  
Stomach in a knot, Roger forced himself to look down at you, to meet your gaze.
He was mildly surprised by your reaction, expression spoiling how you precisely weren't overjoyed nor ecstatic about the news. But he knew this could be one of the outcomes.
You sprang to your feet, redness in your cheeks, forehead and neck, and said a small ‘Mind us a minute’ before turning on your heels and demanding Roger with a look to exit the office. You didn’t miss how a thin layer of light pink rose to his cheeks.
Miami's face wasn't saying much, but he didn't look away when you cast him a glance.
Clasping your hands behind your head, heart about to crash due to its rate mightly increasing, you closed your eyes. And it felt like you could hear and see your heart pumping blood.
Roger leaned against the hallway wall, looking at his shoes.
Fallen into a long lapse, Roger waited. He waited for you to speak first, but you didn’t. You just mirrored his posture, standing right across from him, hands covering your face.
“Say something, (Y/N)”
You hesitated to do, and your voice came out as a dark painful crack.
“I’m thinking of Todd”
Roger’s eyebrows knitted in doubt.
“That’s my grandfather’s name”
Unsure if you were gonna ask him to stop, he pushed himself off the wall and stood closer to you. You didn’t tell him to fuck off like you wanted to at first, but still were trying to figure out what to do with the information you’d been delivered.
Your heart plunged when he affectionately bumped his shoulder against yours.
Roger’s mouth opened slightly when he saw that your eyes were liquid with soon-to-be-released teardrops.
“What would Todd tell you if he was here now?”
You gave a sniff, wiped your eyes with the heel of your palm and grinned, latching onto the picture you visualized of your grandfather rolling his eyes, instructing you to get the shit done.
“To stop being a crybaby and to follow my dreams”
“Your dreams are just a signing away”
Roger caressed your nose with his. He was speaking in an undertone, careful not to disturb you.
“Are you mad at me for sending them the tape?”
You puffed your cheeks and let the air out thoughtfully.
Am I?
“You have to know this wasn’t the initial plan, I need to get this across. I just wanted them to hear it, so when they called to ask me who’s the talent I could tell you that your work has potential. Much more potential than you think. But they, well, you see, are interested”
Roger continued, seeing that you were still having a draining mental battle with yourself.
“We’ll take care of you. Miami and I. And Freddie, Brian and John. Everyone. If you accept, you could come to Japan with us and work on your debut album meanwhile”
“It’s… tempting”
Roger nodded and brought your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
“You’ve got the last say, love”
With incredible patience and self-control, he focused on perfectly fitting his lips onto yours.
It felt so right and perfect to savour him.
Beyond immersed on the many opportunities that your destiny portended if you signed that paper, you didn’t even realize you were saying the following words until you were done reciting them.
“Thank you for believing in me”
“Thank you for believing in me”
And you knew the meaning behind Roger’s words was way deeper, referring to everything you’ve gone through. For believing that he didn’t do anything with those women and for not taking for granted that he wouldn’t be able to sustain a formal relationship.
Because you were a thing now, weren’t you?
Flashing a pair of crinkling eyes, happy that your future was now shining bright next to the man who made it possible that you could make yours’ and Todd’s dreams come true, you shoved your face in his neck, attaching him to you with your still tremulous arms.
Were you scared? Yes. But you had him, and that’s all you needed to know to feel strong enough to take such important plunge.
Engulfed in a wave of hope and gratitude, you let him hold you.
Todd would’ve loved Roger, and you were determined to not let any of these men down.
********
tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring @mercurycrowley @ixchel-9275
44 notes · View notes
marinaaniseed · 5 years
Text
Dark ‘n’ Stormy Pt.6
Just over 5,000 wordy words. I decided to split this chapter in two because it would be unwieldy otherwise. No smut (!) in this chapter. Thor and the reader get ready to go out for dinner. Contains more discussion on clothing than was probably necessary. And a smidge of Asgardian politics. OH WELL.
Come mid-afternoon, you’d managed to complete your tasks, which was easier said than done when Thor tried to nuzzle up to you every time you were even vaguely still. You went back to his bedroom and changed into your clothes, turning your knickers inside out.
“Is it ok if I go back to mine and change my clothes?” you said as you walked back into the sitting room.
“Of course. Perhaps I could go with you?” he suggested. It had been a while since he’d ventured out further than his garden but he wanted to spend more time with you. You nodded and waited for him to get dressed. He shuffled out in his oversized hoodie and slipped on his Crocs.
“Ready?” you asked.
“Indeed I am.”
He took your hand as you walked back to your hut. He hoped you’d find it romantic but he was mostly holding onto you because he was scared. It had been so long since he’d been around ordinary Asgardians. He didn’t want to disappoint them any more than he already had.
You didn’t pass too many people on your stride of pride but those who did see you tried to hide their shock. You didn’t blame them. It wasn’t exactly hard to piece together the cause of the unusual weather. Coupled with seeing Thor out and about, and holding hands with Midgardian, it was probably the last thing any of them expected to see on a Tuesday afternoon as the sun was starting to go down.
“I won’t take long,” you said as you approached the hut. “Then I can head back and start prepping for dinner.”
“We could just bring all of your stuff to mine, then you wouldn’t have to keep coming back here.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, Thor, but as fun as mixing business and pleasure is, we should try to separate things. It’s hard enough to get any work done as it is.”
“But you wouldn’t have to do any work. I don’t want my girlfriend tidying up after me all of the time.”
“Girlfriend?” you queried, eyebrows arched. Oh Norns, no, Thor thought. He hadn’t meant to scare you off. He blushed deep scarlet and stared at the ground, wishing he could fall through one of Strange’s portals like Loki had all those years ago in New York. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no words came out.
“Was that...was that your way of asking me?” you asked, trying to make it less awkward.
“Um...yeah?”
“You’ll have to take me out on a date before I consider agreeing.”
“Um, yes a date. Like dinner?”
“Yes, dinner is good.”
“Dinner tonight?”
“That works for me.”
“Right, yes. Dinner tonight. I will meet you here at eight,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss before almost running back to his cabin. You let yourself into the hut and fell back against the door. Ah fuck.
No. This was not good. Fucking was good but dates and emotional stuff? Dear God, no. You couldn’t go through that again. You needed to talk to someone. You grabbed your laptop and opened Skype. Thank fuck. Sam was online.
“Yo,” you typed.
“Y R U typing? Call me like a normal person,” came the reply. Before you could do anything, the Skype call tune sounded and you grudgingly accepted the call. You knew you looked a mess but not accepting and turning on the camera would make Sam suspicious.
“Jesus Christ, y/n. What happened to your neck? Do they have vampires where you are?” Sam exclaimed, trying not to laugh.
“Hmm, yes very good. Why aren’t you at work?”
“I went to a gig last night, took a day off to recover.”
“You’re getting old. Who’d you see?”
“And you’re deflecting. Belinda Carlisle.”
“She’s still alive?”
“She is now. Anyway, what or who happened to you?”
“Someone.”
“Clearly. You look like you just did the walk of shame.”
“Walk of fame. Or stride of pride. You know me, I own my encounters.”
“Aha, so you did get laid. Nice.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already did. So what’s up? You’ve got a face like a cat’s arse and you won’t give me the gossip.”
“We’re going on a date. Tonight.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“I do...and I don’t. It’s scary and it’s weird and…”
“And you haven’t been on a date since Alex.”
“...no.”
“That’s a stumbling block you need to get past. Or over. Or hell, crawl underneath it. You are wasting years of your life, out of guilt. If it had been the other way round, you wouldn’t want Alex to pine after for you forever, to grow old and die without falling in love again, would you?”
“No…” Sam wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t easy to hear it.
“Give this mystery bitey person a go. It might be great. In terms of your neck, you essentially have two choices. Style it out and show off those bites, or cover them up. With clothing this time.”
“Look, I only put foundation on that one time. It was my first day, I didn’t want to make a bad impression.”
“Yeah, because foundation staining the collar of your shirt was so much better.”
“Any other words of advice or are you just going to dredge up past mistakes?”
“Yeah, wear the bitch boots.”
“No can do, they’re in storage.”
“Well, if you told me where you are I could put them in my luggage and bring them to you, along with a whole bunch of your shit.”
“I prefer to be nomadic for now, but I appreciate the sentiment. I guess I should start figuring out what to wear.”
“Alright, good to see you too. It’s been emotional, as ever.”
The call ended and you burst into tears.
*****
Thor stomped back like he was marching into battle, startling seagulls and people alike. He grabbed his phone a punched in a message to Brunnhilde. He didn’t want to call in case he interrupted important kingly business. Midgardian tech was too fiddly for him, it was embarrassing how long it took to write four letters: HELP.
Now that he had time to think, he was regretting offering to take you out for dinner. He remembered all too painfully his first encounter in a Midgardian dining establishment. Were his manners ok? He knew more about Midgard now but he knew that different places within the realm had different customs. He didn’t want to upset or offend you. But you’d eaten with him before, and that had been fine...but it wasn’t in public. And where did people go for dinner in New Asgard? Was there anywhere? Food always came to him, not the other way round. He knew from the other Avengers that you were supposed to look and smell nice on these occasions but what should he wear? He’d had some great clothes but that was before...he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, trying to calm down.
He was several beers in by the time Brunnhilde arrived.
“Where’s y/n?” she inquired. “What’s wrong? Do I need to hunt her down?”
Thor wasn’t sure why his friends kept offering to fight you on his behalf. Not that he would, but he was more than capable of fighting you. It was good to know that they had his back, he supposed.
“She went home to change. We’re going out for dinner tonight,” he smiled, despite his nerves.
“Wrong way round there, loverboy, you’re supposed to take her out for dinner before you impale her with your pork sword.”
Thor doesn’t entirely understand what the Valkyrie just said, but he knows it’s rude.
“You’re-you’re not helping,” he replied, grabbing another beer. He’d been much better lately, drinking less.
“Can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is,” Brunnhilde answered, accepting the beer that Thor offered. Seeing that Thor was struggling to articulate himself, the Valkyrie tried to prompt him. “You’re banging a Midgardian. You’ve done that before, so that’s not it. Likewise, this is not the first time you’ve shagged a servant, sorry, employee. You’ve courted people before, right?”
“Ish. Yeah. Sorta. Not for a long time...it was different. I didn’t really have to try.”
“Because you were the pretty prince, so you could have who you wanted, when you wanted them?”
“Ow. That’s not very nice,” Thor said, wincing at the vague memories of various tumbles.
“I’m not wrong though, am I?” Thor shook his head, unable to look her in the eye. “Well, y/n obviously thinks you’re pretty. Or handsome. Whatever. Don’t need to be a scientist like Banner to work that one out. And you’re still a prince, uncoronated king actually-”
“No, you’re king.”
“Yeah, no. I’m regent. And even that is barely tolerated by the people. We’re gonna have to talk about that soon, but not now. Y/N thinks you’re attractive, you’re still royalty, so you’ve got that going for you. God of thunder, Avenger, hero-”
“-hairy fat dude.”
“Technically, yes, but please refer to my first point.” It’s exasperating for the Valkyrie. She wants to help Thor but he still hasn’t told her what the problem is.
“Well, I said we’d go out for dinner but I don’t know where we can go. And I’m worried there’s a whole bunch of MIdagrdian etiquette that I don’t know and I’ll look stupid and I’ll embarrass her. And I don’t know what to wear. And, and, and…” he trailed off.
“Right ok. I’m guessing you’d rather stay in New Asgard?”
Thor nods.
“We have a tavern. A pub. Bar. Drinking establishment. It’s called The Crown,” she explained.
“The Crown? Why’s it called that.”
“The people looked into Midgardian tavern names. ‘The Crown’ signifies loyalty to the monarchy. They thought it was appropriate.”
Thor could feel his shame washing back over him. He’d abandoned his people and all the while they’d named a tavern to show their loyalty to him. He didn’t want to think about what his future chat with Brunnhilde about the leadership of New Asgard would entail. Even if he was forced to be king, he didn’t think there was anything he could do to make up for his years of neglect.
“Anyway, they do food at The Crown. Perhaps you could go there?”
A tavern didn’t seem like the ideal place, he would’ve loved to have taken you somewhere more illustrious, but he didn’t think he was up to leaving New Asgard.
“Asgardian food?” he asked hopefully.
“In a manner of speaking. Some Asgardian foods just aren’t available on Midgard.”
That was a shame but hopefully, he could introduce you to some Asgardian dishes. If, you know, you wanted to try them.
“In terms of Midgardian etiquette, you know as much as I do. I guess if you’re unsure about something, you could ask y/n? Go have a shower, clean your teeth and we’ll figure out what you should wear.”
*****
Having let it all out, you realised you needed to start preparing for your dinner with Thor. He was obviously nervous about asking you and you didn’t want to disappoint him. Looking at your meagre supply of clothing, you realised that none of it was really appropriate for a date. It was all just very practical. Hmm. You’d seen the Asgardians wearing a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar clothing. They couldn’t have taken that much with them when they escaped, which meant there must be a shop or something, right? You decided to investigate New Asgard. If there wasn’t anything, you’d walk to Tønsberg.
It took a little bit of wandering but eventually, you found a street with a few shops. There was one with dresses and fabrics in the window and you cautiously entered. The woman in the shop seemed startled by you, clutching her notepad to her chest.
“Oh my goodness, hello, are you lost?” she asked.
“No? I was hoping that maybe this was a shop that sells clothing?”
“Yes, it is. My apologies...it’s just that I've never had a customer from Midgard before.”
“That’s quite alright. Erm…” you realised at this point that the Valkyrie had never told you which currency they used in New Asgard. “Ah, I realise this is a little awkward but which forms of payment do you accept?”
“Which ones do you have?”
You opened up your purse. You had your bank cards and a wedge of colourful Norwegian krone notes. You didn’t see any evidence of a card machine so you hoped that krone was accepted.
“Mostly just Norwegian krone.” You knew you had some shrapnel from other countries but that hadn’t been worth changing up and would be unlikely to help here.
“Oh yes, Norwegian money is fine,” the woman enthused “but are you sure? I mean it’s not far to Tønsberg.”
“No, no - you have beautiful things in your window. And I’d prefer to find something here, if possible, rather than give my money to one of the fast-fashion chains,” you said, trying to reassure her. The woman nodded.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Well, I’m going out for dinner this evening, so I was hoping to find something appropriate.”
“Oh, is this with the prince...I mean the king?”
Word apparently travels fast, you thought, feeling your cheeks burn. You nodded, looking at the floor. The woman clapped her hands with glee and grabbed a tape measure, practically bounding towards you.
“May I?” she asked. “We do not use dress sizes like your people do...let me take your measurements and then I can work out what I have that might fit.”
You weren’t exactly keen on being measured, putting a number to the different parts of you, but this seemed like a good system. Much better than trying to work out whether a shop’s sizing runs big or small. The woman made a series of notes on her pad.
“Follow me,” she said, leading you into another room. The was an oaken settee topped with plush cushions, as well as several full-length mirrors.
“Please take a seat,” the woman gestured to the chair. “I will return shortly.”
You sat down, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves, beginning to regret this. Would you like the clothing that she recommended? Could you afford it? Would Thor think you were being weird? Maybe you should’ve just gone to H&M.
The woman returned with several garments, hanging them from a series of hooks on the back of the door.
“These are the ones that should fit you, I hope there is something here to your liking. Which would you like to try on first?”
You had no idea. In truth, you had no idea what kind of style would suit you.
“I guess we could work out way along, starting from the left?”
“Of course.” The woman went over to bring you the first outfit. It was a cherry red hooded dress, with an embroidered lace panel and billowy sleeves. You undressed, realising that the woman meant to help you. You noticed her staring as you stood there in your underwear.
“Apologies, I did not mean to offend,” she said, averting her gaze. “I just have not seen undergarments in this style before. Are they typical of Midgard?”
You looked at yourself in the mirror. The blue floral t-shirt bra was probably more colourful than standard but otherwise typical, at least for Europe. Before you’d left Thor’s, you’d flipped your knickers inside out. You’d forgotten about that. But there they were. Golden yellow bikini briefs, tag out at the back. You hoped the woman couldn’t see the gusset stains. At this rate, it’d be a minor miracle if you even made it to dinner instead of imploding for embarrassment. You could see your cheeks were trying to match the dress. Oh god, oh god, oh god. The lovebites. The bruises. You were only now getting the full picture, thanks to the mirrors. Fucking hell.
“Please do not feel uncomfortable,” the woman said with a reassuring smile. “We Asgardians are not as shy about our bodies or the pleasures we get from them, as your people are. I am glad that his majesty is finding comfort outside of his flagon. Perhaps he will become well again and begin to notice his people more.”
You sensed that she probably wanted to say more but didn’t out of tact. You allowed her to dress you, lacing the garment at the back.
“What do you think?” she asked, nervously.
“It’s beautiful but I think it would be difficult for me to master the lacing. It’s not really a feature of the clothes I’m used to,” you explained. She nodded and helped you undress before moving onto the next option. This dress was bare-shouldered, in ochre and terracotta linen, with the billowy sleeves again. There was no lacing as the back, instead, a leather belt cinched you in the keep everything in place. You stood staring at your reflection, the bra straps somewhat ruining the look.
“This is not for you either. I can tell by your face,” the woman interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings but you were beginning to panic that you might not find anything you liked.
You tried on several more outfits including a cream linen dress (“I will definitely stain this with dinner”) a beige dress that laced up at the front (“Too long, I’ll end up tripping over it”) and a black dress with built-in fingerless gloves (“I would feel rude wearing gloves at dinner”).
You were down to the final garment and you were beginning to panic, wondering how low long you’d been there and when would the shops shut in Tønsberg.
It was another linen dress, this time in black, with beautiful gold embroidered details on the balloon style sleeves, which were attached to the shoulders of the dress with eyelet lacing. The ribbon corset lacing detail to each side of the dress accentuated your waist, while the scoop neckline showed just the right amount of cleavage. Better still, the skirt came to just below your ankle, so it wouldn’t drag along the ground.
“Ah, I love this,” you said, admiring yourself in the different mirrors. “Knocking ‘em cold in black and gold.”
“Pardon?”
“Oh! It’s a lyric from a song.”
“What is the name of this song?”
“I don’t remember,” you lied. There was no way you were going to explain Sex Dwarf, or Soft Cell, to an Asgardian. Where would you even begin? You began undressing, working up the courage to ask how much it was.
“How much is this dress?” you queried, fearful that you wouldn’t be able to afford it.
“For you, on this occasion, I will let you have it for free.”
“No, no you can’t do that. I must pay you for your work,” you panicked.
“What is your name, my dear?”
“Y/N,” you stuttered.
“Y/N. My name is Lorelei. I have lived a long time but these last few years feel as though they have lasted for centuries. It has been hard for us all. I believe you are here among us to change our fortunes for the better. I saw you walking with him earlier. I have not seen him so happy in such a long time. It is my hope that your love for him will restore his health and restore him to our people so that he can lead us as he is supposed to. I give you this dress in the hope that you will help to make Asgard a proud people again. If I am right, this would be but a small token of thanks.”
And if you’re wrong? You wondered. This was a lot of pressure. Love? Leadership? She couldn’t seriously be eying you up as queen? As Thor’s wife? Christ. You’d only just met the guy.
“I...thank you. This is so generous and kind of you. Perhaps we can come to a compromise and you will allow me to purchase some accessories from you?”
“Yes, I will agree to that. Come, let me show you what I have.”
*****
Thor was showered and cleaned his teeth, just as the Valkyrie had instructed.
“What do you think I should wear?” he asked her. “These Midgardian clothes are made for comfort, not courting. That much I know. Do you think my armour would be too much?”
“Yes, definitely. You’re not going into battle. What do your Avenger friends wear on such occasions?”
Thor sat down in his towel next to the Valkyrie. Loki had worn a black suit when they’d been in New York. That had made him look like a witch. Actually, his friends often wore suits too. Or armour. Or costumes. Bucky wore a lot of leather...no, that wouldn’t work either.
“They wear a lot of suits...Stark kept good company...”
“Well, it says here on GQ ‘Don't wear a suit unless your date is somewhere incredibly swanky.’ We don’t have anywhere incredibly swanky around here, so I think you’ll be alright,” the Valkyrie said, looking up from her phone.
“That’s good. Last time I wore a suit was Stark’s funeral…”
“Ok, a suit is definitely out. You don’t want to be reminded of sad things. And don’t wear the Crocs, either.”
“Why not? They’re comfy.”
“Because a lot of Midgardians think they’re unattractive. Look,” she said, holding up her phone to show Thor the Facebook page called ‘I Dont care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like A Dumbass.’
“Oh, I see,” he said, a little deflated. “I still want to be comfortable though.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. What are you comfortable wearing?”
“Well, I liked my jeans but I can’t fit into them anymore,” he explained, staring at the floor. Why had he asked you out for dinner? This was a stupid idea. He was stupid.
“Hey, I heard about how you just changed into your armour on the battlefield. Couldn’t you just do that but the other way round? I mean it just magically fit you, right?”
“I…” he hadn’t even considered that as an option. “I’d need to use my lightning. You told me not to do that anymore.”
“Can you do it without causing a storm?” asked Brunnhilde, hopeful of a way to get Thor out of his current mental rut.
“Yes, perhaps. Let me grab Stormbreaker.”
Before Brunnhilde could stop him, he was out in the garden in his towel, tapping the handle of his axe into the ground.
*** Back in the cabin, you enjoyed your second shower of the day before getting ready for your dinner with Thor. Although you’d been in colder climes for a while, your skin still disliked it, and you made sure to moisturise liberally. Rifling through your clothes, you soon found the black lace bra and matching shorts. It was the only matching set of underwear you had left, and you couldn’t remember why you’d bought it, but you were glad you had. New, Midgardian, underwear would need to go on the shopping list. The shorts had built-in suspender straps and you carefully rolled your lace top stockings up your legs. Tights would’ve been warmer, for sure, but you disliked how sweaty your crotch got while wearing them.
You slipped into the dress you’d bought earlier, pulling the side lacing tight. In hindsight, it was too much, but your magpie tendencies had taken over. That and the panic of having nothing to wear. Hopefully, Thor would appreciate your attempt at integrating with the local populace. A little black dress was traditional for a date...this one just wasn’t so little. You’d also purchased burgundy hooded wool cloak, with edged with a golden braid and fastened with a gold clasp. Lorelei had assured you it would keep you warm but in all honesty, you’d snuggle up to Thor for warmth, you just really wanted a cloak.
It was fascinating to hear Lorelei talk of her work and that of some of the Asgardian women. Many of them had continued their former trades of weaving, felting, tanning, embroidery, and lacemaking. They wanted to preserve their heritage. But it was hard. They’d all been set up with bank accounts and a small amount of money when they arrived. Nobody really traded with New Asgard and a lot of the money left the local economy and was spent in Norway instead. And it seemed as though Thor wasn’t the only one drowning his sorrows. That made sense. You knew enough about the world to know that substance abuse was often seen in communities that had lost their sense of purpose, their heritage.
Your makeup collection was sparse, certainly compared to what you’d had, but you kept a supply for those times when you needed a professional face. Once the base was on, you tried to decide whether you wanted a bold eye or lip colour. Certainly not both. You wanted to show Thor a more polished version of yourself, not be unrecognisable to him. You spotted the crimson matte lipstick. Of course. A pop of colour to match Thor’s cloak.. You applied your eye makeup - gold eyeshadow, black mascara and eyeliner - struggling to keep your hand steady as the excitement began to kick in. You applied a layer of concealer to your lips before applying your lipstick, blotting, and then applying a second coat.
After styling your hair, you looked at the few pieces of jewellery you’d brought with you. Carefully you attached the garnet drop earrings you’d inherited from your nan before clasping the matching pendant around your neck, the stone resting just above your cleavage.
The only mirror in the hut was a small one above the sink, so you had no idea how the full ensemble looked. The lovebites were prominent but it’d be nigh impossible to cover them. You couldn’t wear a scarf to dinner and none of your high-necked tops were appropriate for the occasion. Checking your phone, you concluded there wasn’t enough time to paint your nails so your spritzed your perfume and shoved your fit into your leather boots, zipping up the side and adjusting the front lacing. They weren’t the bitch boots but they’d do.
Even though you were inside, you put on the cloak so you didn’t have to faff about with it when Thor arrived. Now it was time to wait.
*** It took a few attempts to get to an outfit that Thor was comfortable in and that Brunnhilde was convinced was appropriate.
“How do I look?” he asked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.
“You look very special. Y/n will be impressed, I don’t doubt it. Now hurry up, you don’t want to make her wait.”
Thor nodded and followed the Valkyrie out of the cabin. He remembered how pleased you’d been that morning with flowers. As he walked to the little hut by the docks. He focused his powers and encouraged the flora to bloom a little early, collecting a small posy as he went, but leaving the rest to add a bit of colour to New Asgard.
The nerves kicked in fully when he stood outside your door. He wanted to run away, to hide at home with his beer and some pizza and some mindless gaming. But he couldn’t do that. You’d given him no reason to distrust you. Trying to calm his breathing, he knocked gently on the door.
He could hear you shuffling around behind the wood and was relieved and surprised when you opened the door. He thought you were beautiful anyway, but seeing you stood there, having made an effort with your appearance, in Asgardian clothes, was more than he could have imagined. His mouth was as dry as it was the morning after a heavy night. His heart hammering as though he’d run to the hut, not meandered leisurely. The skin on his face burning as he blushed, he thought he might combust. Standing there, on your doorstep in New Asgard had him feeling hotter and sweating more than when he’d reignited the forge on Nidavellir.
Not trusting his mouth not to say something stupid, he took one hand and kissed it, placing the posy of flowers into your other hand.
“That’s very kind of you, Thor,” you smiled at him. “Please come in a second so I can put these somewhere.” You grabbed your Thermos in the kitchenette, filling it with water and placing the flowers inside, standing it on the windowsill.
Turning around, Thor was stood awkwardly with his back to the door. He looked ravishing, dressed up, with his hair neatly braided at the back. It was so odd, seeing him in something other than his jogging bottoms, hoodies and cardis. You wondered what he would look like, dressed up to the nines in Asgardian finery, but tonight he’d gone for a more earthly look. The brick-red plaid flannel shirt with the crimson suspenders, framing the swell of his stomach beautifully, attached to the comfy looking jeans that you reckoned were probably hugging the curve of his arse, showing off just how shapely it was, thick thighs making them look almost painted on in places. He’d even forgone his Crocs in favour of a pair of sturdy leather boots. If he hadn’t promised you dinner, you’d have dragged him to bed then and there.
You felt a little foolish now, dressed in your Asgardian clothes, but the electric blue hue of his left eye let you know he liked what he saw. Striding over to him, you pressed him back into the door, running your fingers through the loose golden hair outlining his face against the dark wood of the door. It was remarkably soft, like fresh down, and you could feel Thor holding his breath as you pressed into the marshmallow softness of his stomach, tiptoeing to reach his lips. His facial hair tickled your nose, and it was an effort not to flinch away from it, instead, pressing harder, your tongue slipping into his mouth. Thor’s strong arms wrapped around you so tight you were concerned he’d crack a rib or several.
“Now, that’s how you greet someone with a kiss,” you winked, handing him a tissue to remove the transferred lipstick. “Shall we?” you asked, clutching your bag and reaching past him for the doorknob. A rumble from Thor’s belly was the answer you got as you grabbed his hand and ventured into the cool evening.
@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671
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prorevenge · 5 years
Text
Dropping a bullies self worth to 0 in secondary school
Sorry this is a long one.
So some back-story,
I've always been good at dealing with bullies, and just not letting them bother me, I found it really easy to disassociate from the usual playground bullying. I'd make a joke and move on. When I was about 9 years old I had to move house and schools due to my father losing his job. And in my new school I made a couple of friends but this focuses on 1 in particular, my future bully. We got on really well, he helped me get through junior school. As we moved into secondary school now at age 11, a new kid joined and remembering what my friend (bully) had done for me, I wanted to return the favour and showed the new kid around helped him, and became good friends, he got me into Army Cadets in i different town which is where I met my (now ex) girlfriend (this story basically hinges on her). This is where my story starts.
Me and my GF were together a year and a half (roughly) through that time we'd gone back and forth visiting each other meeting each others friends usual BF GF stuff. Well my friend (bully) took a particular shine to my GF made all sorts of disgusting comments about her. "look at her tits, she'd produce more milk than a cow" "how have you not shagged her yet?" At 11 this was kind of shocking for me to hear.
I'd asked him to stop numerous times. It made me uncomfortable. She never heard some of things he'd said. Didn't want her to. Whenever the 3 of us were together he started pressuring us into "going further" as apparently everyone had lost their virginity at age 12 we weren't having any of it. Said we'd do stuff like that in our own time. he kept this up for the last 3 months of our relationship, due to that and a few other stresses at the time. we mutually decided to end it. (we are still best friends and I'm happy with that). this is where the bullying really started.
This was a bit after i'd turned 13 and he started making comments along the lines of: "You'll never get someone like her again" "Shame you never 'hit' that" "You're always gonna be a virgin now"
"You're going to die alone" etc. etc.
He did this every couple of weeks for 3 YEARS (As I said I can take a LOT of flak) he could always do this as we walked to school together, he'd helped settle into this new town. part of me always saw him as friend right up until the end. We also usually walked as a group as we'd both continued to make more friends and all lived close by.
To begin with I just said, "yeah yeah whatever, we ended it on our terms, were still friends. we just couldn't deal with all this pressure we have at the moment and want to focus on exams" or words to that effect, or just ignored him. after a few months I realised he wasn't gonna stop so I stopped asking him to stop, and started telling him. "you need to stop this. otherwise I will go to the teachers and say something" he didn't stop at this point I just keep silent. Maybe 8/9 months after us breaking up i go to the teachers say blah de blah is bullying me, saying about how I'm gonna die alone. they asked where it was happening I said on the way to school.
"i'm afraid we cant do anything about it then"
So on our walks to school now I just keep silent. Put music on, low enough to still hear the conversation. But loud enough I could selectively drown him out. after a couple weeks of this, he starts tapping me on the shoulder to get me to remove my headphones thinking Id missed a bit of the conversation. and he uses that opportunity to say the same shit again. at this point I stop taking the headphones out and just keep walking. only takes a week for him to catch on. and he starts pulling my headphones out. so I start walking on my own. away from my friends, this makes me a bit of a recluse at school. To this day I still only have 1 friend from that school (His ex who realised he was a waste of space).
For a month everything was fine. I was happy. Then he changed the time that his group of friends of walked to catch up with me. At this point I started getting physical i'd been doing army (cadet) training. But he was faster and stronger than me. so I stopped that real quick. as it just ended with me on the floor his friends laughing at me stepping over or sometimes on me. I just put up with it.
By the time I was 15 I knew something had to be done, his words had sunken in, they started rattling around my head at night.
The teachers won't / can't help, nothing I said had helped, nothing I could do would help. I got on with my work. and kept my head down. a couple people had started talking to me, one in particular (his ex) and we were chatting on MSN one night. she'd had a couple drinks with her folks in her home. we got onto the subject of my bully
His ex: "He thinks hes gods gift to women, well news flash, he's not, he's wayyyyyy too pushy, just wants his way no matter what, got cold hands, no idea what to do with his tounge, and a dick like a maggot, its tiny and he never washes it, it's disgusting"
And several other slants against his sexual prowess (something he is very proud of) well during this time we had an internal school e-mailing system, and you could send emails to EVERYONE in school, including teachers. A couple people had used this system to message the usual chain mail (like what you get on Facebook now "like this puppy in 5 seconds or your heart will explode, PLEASE COMMENT AND SHARE"). Now i was pretty computer savvy, and had used that to help people with IT work from time to time, even using their login to see what they'd done.
See where i'm going
One of these people i'd helped was my bully. (back before the bullying started) I'd just hoped he hadn't changed his password. Id taken a screen shot of the conversation with his ex, blanked out our names on Windows Paint. Logged into his account from a computer in an unused IT room and sent an email to everyone in school, saying: my name is Blah de blah, i have sent you an attachment about how truly disgusting a human being I am. I have been bullying people for years and I am finally getting my comeuppance.
It took 2 months for them to find out it was me.
They only found out, because I went up to my bully and told him. I wanted him to know it was me.
The punishment I got: a chat with the school police officer about what slander is and that i could go to jail for it. along with 3 dinner time detentions about 150 minutes of break time (i'd never set a foot wrong through school and had A*- B grades so my punishment was reduced a lot) I still got my dinner, I just had to sit outside the heads office during break and catch up on homework. I then had to have a meeting with my bully to try and "sort it out"
As i went in he was crying. All i said was "thats what you fucking get, for driving me and ex GF apart, for rubbing it in my face FOR 3 YEARS, I hope, no I PRAY that every woman in this school has read this and will stay away from you. I'm going to quote YOU here: 'You will die alone' " and I left.
They didn't punish me for swearing, didn't punish me for shouting. I think they were so shocked by the change in me, I am usually a very quiet timid guy. but that day I dropped my voice about 3 octaves and drove all my hate for him into what I said.
To this day (about 7 years after) he still hasn't had another girlfriend (i like to keep tabs on him through facebook) He hasn't spoken to me since. I haven't been bullied since. I've also had several relationships since. And each one has helped me realise his words were vacuous crap, born from jealousy as she stopped talking to him altogether after we broke up.
(source) story by (/u/kurekren)
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deakydeaky · 5 years
Note
Being the only girl in Queen pls darling
99% sure this has been done before but we’ll do it
Being the only girl;
When you first came into the group Freddie show how talented you were at basically everything. You weren’t a “misfit” like them but together you all didn’t belong together and that’s why Freddie liked it so much
The boys were a little weirded out because you were a girl. They had a lot of questions and weren’t really okay with the idea. Not that you are a woman but Brian said there should be limits, rules
“Okay, fine.” You folded your arms waiting for them to start
“No sleeping together.” Brian laid it out flat
“Oh no, now I don’t want to be in the band.” You said back sarcastically with an eye roll. Freddie smiled at you. He knew you were smarter than that
“No being besties with the groupies.” Roger told you
“I have more than friendship on my mind love.” Freddie chuckled in the back.” And that’s a no. I get you like to sleep around but keep me out of your girl drama.”
“Is that all? Can we start making music now that you’ve made a ‘no sleeping together’ pact.”
“Respect me and I’ll respect you. I’m not here to be undermined by a bunch of men.” You told them
After that it went a little rocky for a few months
A lot of places question having a woman in a rock n roll band but they knew you were very good
The band was also getting comfortable with you over time
Freddie took no time. They others were a little nervous, because you made them that way. You were very pretty, and very talented and also super smart. It was mind blowing to them that you were in a rock band
Them wanting to break the pact and say whoever you pick you pick
That was until they saw you at a party making out with one of the groupies that Roger regularly has around him. In the middle you were saying goodbye to a gentleman they had never met before
That’s when they decided maybe it was better to see you in every other way but a sexual one
They came at you with open arms since then
Overprotective since!! Like they would kill someone if they laid a hand in you that you never asked for
“No darling I’m being serious, if you could who would you shag?” Freddie asked you as you were all just laying around the hotel room, almost empty bottles by all of you
“I can’t pick.” You blushed as they all waited.” You’re all very good looking men, I would be happy to have any of you. The question is Freddie who any of you go for me.”
“Yeah.” They all answered without skipping a beat
“I’m seeing that the pact was a good idea now.” You got off the bed.” I have Shelly waiting for me.”
“Please quit stealing them from me!” Roger begged you with the groupies
“Hey hon they come to me. Not my fault you can’t do your job right.” You started to walk out.” Goodnight boys.”
Outfits that are the absolute hottest because they won’t let you wear anything that wasn’t
Always sticking up for you when someone has something negative to say
“Is it difficult to have a woman in the band at times? You know how they can be.” The audience laughed at the joke
“Well because she’s not here to defend herself, no.” Brian said to the man
“She’s the best of all of us. She makes Queen something of her own. She isn’t like any of us, yet she fits in so well because, that’s Queen.” John finished it off
Another thing, not being invited to interviews as much
A lot of people don’t see you as part of the band because you are a woman
Then one day you’re on stage and it got super hot. You took off your jacket and had on a white shirt that you could see right through
“Well look at that.” You smiled looking down.” At least the papers will have something to write about.”
You did once have a breakdown in front of all of them when a paper wrote horrible things about you
“They always say stuff like this. We get in there too.”
“You get in there so they can talk about how pretty you guys are! You have no idea what this is like. I’m getting called a whore as you guys are getting called the ‘best band’ which if you haven’t notice, there are no pictures of all of us. Just you four!”
“Oh love.” Freddie felt bad as he saw you crying
“Maybe- maybe they are right. This life isn’t for me, maybe I should just leave.”
“You can’t!” John protested
“Like anyone would notice.” You wiped your cries into your shirt
“We would, the fans would, the music would change. Hell it might get worse, we don’t know.” You laughed out at Freddie
“You are just as much a part of Queen as the rest of us.” Roger told you putting his arm around your waist
After that not caring about the papers and living freely. Wearing, doing, saying whatever you want. You didn’t care anymore because no matter what you’d always just be seen as the girl in Queen
Being in Queen;
Taking pictures all of the time, and videos
The boys taking pictures when you aren’t looking
You walk into the dressing room, in your bra and underwear as they were all taking pictures
You smiled widely and Roger just laughed and took one
“I’m recording!” John blushed out. You waved to the camera
“I need my shirt please.” You reached your hand out and Freddie gave it to you
Always helping them do their makeup
Them being understanding when it’s that time of the month
Brian doing your hair a lot of the time
Roger giving you bangs on accident but they turned out to look good on you
Goofing around all of the time
“Tell the camera something.” John begged of you
“I’ve seen everyone in here’s penis.” You all laughed at what you said
Recordings of you all, all of the time
“Y/N!” You turned around in your seat, you only in jeans and a bra, you makeup not even done.
“I can’t focus if you have a need to film me all of the time!”
“You’re just so pretty!”
The boys loving your energy
You being happy and bubbly all of the time even though you get dragged through the mud the most
Your outfits, like I said, always hot. You always look hot in every way. Like F U C K woman are so good looking and everyone is practically in love with you
Studio fights are usually you and Roger fighting
Parties without you just aren’t the same
You have a wild side but you can be shy around those you don’t know
You’ve all seen each other naked so you have no secrets, also you’ve walked in on each other so many times
You got to take off your bra before Brian stops you
“Cause you don’t know what in there.” Brian just blushed.” Brian please, I’m sweating, they hurt. I don’t- Hans me that shirt.”
“What are you doing?” John asked as you put it on. You took off your bra from inside the shirt and pulled it out. They were all amazed
“How did you?...”
“Practice love.” You put the bra in Brian’s hands
It coming out you never slept with any of them
“So has there ever been anything between you and one of the other boys?” Of course you were asked this
“I know everyone is dying to hear it but no. We accually made a pack that we wouldn’t and we stuck to it. For the better. I like to keep everything professional and they are the same.”
Having crazy love for each other
You all being a literal family
When your dad was sick the boys being by your side
Even closer at his death
When you were getting married John stepped in to walk you down the isle
You all being super close by the end
xx
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hazkiwislutt · 5 years
Text
chapter two: weird dreams, lots of crying, and first dates
{ hi friends!! it’s athena, and here is the second chapter of my new series, chasing love. in this series, y/n is famous, and harry is still famous. y/n is twenty-one right now, and harry is twenty-nine! it’s not as long as the last chapter, but i hope you still like it! there’s mentions of abusive relationships in this chapter, but nothing graphic, so please be careful when reading! thank you, and see you next sunday for chapter three. i loaf u! }
“Harry, I know it’s late, but I need you to come over. Right now.”
Harry had dropped Y/N off at Hannah’s baby shower three days ago, and in the time between then and now, they had texted nonstop. Harry wasn’t normally glued to his phone, but talking to Y/N was fun, and her spontaneous energy was infectious. Within the span of a day, she could send him a deep-fried meme, followed by a cute kitten picture, and then she’d beat him in a game of iMessage pool, but she’d never gloat about it.
They hadn’t fully addressed what had taken place the night before the baby shower, except for two pointed comments the morning after, so Harry’s eyes, which were previously droopy from having been woken up so abruptly, were now large and alert as he processed the fact that Y/N was calling him. At 2:47 in the morning. To come over to her house. Right now.
“Right now?” His voice was gravelly and nearly too deep to understand, but on the other side of the line, it made Y/N shudder.
“Yes, right now. Is that okay? It’s important.” This had Harry fumbling around in his bed like a crazed slug, the phone pressed tightly between his shoulder and his ear, as he tried desperately to untangle himself from his sheets.
“A’right, love. Be there in a bit.” He heard her sigh in relief, before thanking him and hanging up. Harry hopped around the room, trying to shove one leg into his grey sweats while simultaneously reaching for a black shirt hanging from the foot of his bed that he’d discarded a day or two before. He quickly dashed into the bathroom, brushing his teeth as effectively as he could before gargling with mouthwash and shoving his phone and keys into his pockets.
As he started his car, he deliberated on how fast he could get there without blowing himself to smithereens. He backed out of his garage, a funny expression on his face, because it seemed that only Y/N could make him think such intense, but silly, thoughts. He wondered if that was a problem.
“Harry, get in, quick!” As soon as the door opened, Harry was seized by the front of his shirt and whisked inside Y/N’s house before he had the chance to open his mouth and greet her. She didn’t even turn around as she slammed her front door shut and quickly dragged him down the hall. Harry thought she was taking him into the living room, but instead, she turned down a smaller hallway that led to a single room, the door propped open a sliver.
“Love, calm down, s’the matter?” He was torn between a mix of curious and nervous, because Y/N would not tell him what was happening, or why they were going into this small room off the main parts of her house, or why she’d grabbed him and whisked him away so suddenly. She pushed the door open, still clutching Harry’s hand tightly in hers, before stepping into the dimly lit room, which Harry realized was Y/N’s music room, as his eyes adjusted to the low lamplight.
It was painted the same mauve color as her kitchen, except instead of white accents, there were pale yellow ones around the trim of the room. There was a grey sofa in the middle of the room that was perpendicular to the door, dilapidated and worn, but large enough to seat three people comfortably, that sat atop an ivory shag rug.
A black grand piano sat in one corner of the room behind the sofa, facing away to the wall, while a full drum set occupied the opposite corner, facing the sofa. Directly in front of the sofa, there was a desk that held a computer, a plug-in keyboard for mixing, and a microphone. On the side of the desk, in yet another corner, various instruments, such as saxophones and trumpets, were put on stands. Harry wondered if she played all of those instruments. He couldn’t recall anything she said in interviews about what instruments she played.
The walls were decorated by an extreme amount of guitars, basses, and ukuleles, pegged on the walls in arbitrary order, but they looked as if they were exactly where they were meant to be. Even Harry himself couldn’t say he had half as many instruments as she had, and he was both amazed and impressed.
Y/N plopped down onto the couch, picking her feet up and tucking them under her bum, as she reached around the side of it and pulled up a simple acoustic guitar with light brown wood grain and nylon strings. Harry followed, tentatively sitting down next to her, still a bit put off by the fact she hadn’t said anything to him yet, as she situated it on her lap. He looked at her in the dim light: her eyes were glistening tiredly, her hair was incredibly mussed and frazzled in a cute, but very noticeable way, and her pajamas were terribly rumpled, as if she had taken a roll shortly before she answered the door. Before Harry could ask what was wrong, she’d already opened her mouth.
“Okay, so, hear me out. I was having the worst luck falling asleep, but when I finally did, I had a dream about you. I was sleeping, like, dream-me was sleeping, and you came into my bedroom wearing my polka-dot onesie for whatever reason, but by the way, when we’re done here, I want you to try it on, ‘cause the pink made your eyes look exceptionally bright, and I want to see for myself,” Y/N paused her mile-a-minute speech, fingers twiddling together as she furrowed her brow as if she were musing the idea.
It was silent for a tick, and although Harry had met Y/N twice in person, and both times she’d been so unpredictable it nearly made him dizzy, he still couldn’t get a handle on how… how… out-there, she really was. He loved it, but his still-fuzzy brain could not keep up with how fast she was talking. Just as he was about to clear his throat to prompt her to continue, she’d already beat him to it.
“Anyways, you woke me up, nearly broke down my bedroom door because I’d run out of Spam, which confused me a bit, ‘cause you probably haven’t had Spam ever, Mr. Health Machine. So, we went downstairs, got in my car, without even brushing or changing, and went to Target. But, the doors wouldn’t open! You know how they’ve got the automatic swing doors? Yeah, those weren’t opening, so you began to sing a song. Not one of yours, or mine, or anyone’s that I know of. But the doors opened, and I woke up, because that song was so… so…” Y/N began gesticulating wildly as she struggled for words to continue her thoughts, “The melody was beautiful and when I woke up, I couldn’t remember any of the words but I just remember waking up with a smile on my face.”
Y/N sat back against the couch, seemingly waiting for Harry’s response. She was looking at him expectantly, mindlessly walking her hands up and down the fretboard in an array of chords. Harry’s mind caught up to her words, and he rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he prepared a coherent answer.
“S’an interesting dream, innit, love? What’d yeh have before yeh went t’bed?” Harry eyed her as he talked. Y/N looked up from where she was concentrating on a certain chord, staring him dead in the eye.
“A shot of whiskey and an orange. I haven’t slept more than two hours between yesterday and today.” Harry tilted his head, concerned, and perplexed, but he couldn’t help laughing a little.
“God, we have got to stop meeting up when yeh drunk, and yeh need to get more sleep, love.” He laid his head back against the couch, eyes still trained on Y/N. He couldn’t help but feel as if something were a bit different in the way she was acting, but it was also a little past three in the morning, and Harry didn’t trust his sleepy brain.
“I’m not drunk, and I normally do!” She reached over and pinched his waist playfully, which made him gasp and recoil, swatting her hand lightly.
“A’right, moving on, so I sang a song, an’ yeh couldn’t remember it when yeh woke up?” Harry suddenly snorted comically, kicking his feet up under him onto the couch similar to Y/N. He began laughing terribly hard, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh alongside him, although he hadn’t said anything yet. They were doubled over, properly wheezing, and Harry was sure he’d shed a tear or two.
“God,” Harry was barely able to talk through his laughter, “S’like tha’ one song I did w’the boys a while back… I can’t even remember the- Oh! Best Song Ever! Fuck, it was so bleeding long ago, I was like… I was nineteen when we released tha’ bloody song, an’ now I’m twenty-nine? How the fuck did tha’ happen? Ten years ago? No fuckin’ way.”
Their laughter died down as Harry drank in some memories he’d forgotten existed for a moment. Maybe he’d been so deep in thought that Y/N had to reach over and grasp his hand, because that’s exactly what she did, and it was all Harry needed to come back to her. He looked at her, squeezing her hand in hers and smiling at her reassuringly.
“For the record,” Y/N responded, “I screamed bloody murder the first time it came on the radio from how proud I was of you all, and I didn’t even know you yet. It’s a nice song, right?” Harry grinned bashfully and squeezed her hand again. Both were painfully aware that they were almost completely out of it from how much sleep they were missing, and it was causing them to go on an insane amount of tangents, but they couldn’t find it in themselves to care. They simply enjoyed the feeling of having the other around.
“Means a lot, love. Now, m’sorry for getting off topic. So, yeh had this dream, came down into this room, and… Called me?” Harry raised his brow in question, and Y/N clutched his hand tighter, nodding her head up and down vigorously.
“Yeah, so, I came down here and started playing around, trying to recreate the melody, but I wanted you to hear it, for obvious reasons, and because I didn’t want to take advantage of dream-you’s work. So, here you are, and here I am, about to play what you came up with in my dream. I added the lyrics, but they’re a load of shit, and I’ll probably clean them up later.” She finished punctually, sitting back and situating her fingers along the fretboard, before breathing in and beginning to pick softly at the strings.
The words were beautiful; they painted pictures of a harsh love and a heartbreak that Harry didn’t believe he could swallow at such a late hour, but he did, because it was Y/N singing this beautiful melody about something so sad, and he had the honor of being the first person to hear it, even if it was three in the morning and Harry’s throat was constricting quite fast from the onslaught of emotions. His eyes watered and he gasped disbelievingly, swiping at them gently, as Y/N continued to sing, eyes shut and forehead creased as she crooned out the tune she’d strung together.
It was a short segment of a song that he knew could be turned into something amazing, but as Y/N muted the guitar strings and laid it back down where she’d retrieved it on the side of the sofa, she turned her whole body toward him and grasped his hands once more: something Harry realized she was comfortable with doing with him, and it just made the intensity of what he’d witnessed more prominent.
Harry couldn’t stop the tears for whatever reason; the words brought emotions to the surface he couldn’t even remember feeling, and it was Y/N who was singing those words, and she was just so sweet and lovely, Harry’s heart just couldn’t take it. Y/N scooted closer, gently rubbing his back as Harry wiped his eyes.
“What do you think,” she asked softly, as if anything louder than the way she was asking would break him.
“God, yeh so bloody awesome. Yeh… s’actually a little bit insane.” Harry let out a short laugh, squeezing both of her hands in his, and his heart melted as she looked down shyly.
“Thank you, but Harry, why are you crying?” Y/N moved even closer, eliminating any and all space between where they were sitting, before hesitantly wrapping an arm around his shoulders, allowing her to rest her head atop his and him to slot into her side as she continued to rub his back.
“Honestly,” Harry said, “I don’t have a clue. What did yeh write that song about? S’really, really sad.” Y/N breathed in deeply as she contemplated whether she should be candid about something so serious at this time, but she figured there was nothing she couldn’t tell Harry if he was willing to get out of bed and drive over to her house so late at night.
“My first boyfriend was abusive,” she began, halting for a short period of time before recomposing and continuing, “My next boyfriend was also abusive, and so was the girlfriend I had after, and the boyfriend I had after that… And when I’d finally broken the cycle, with that guy I told you about at Niall’s party, who wasn’t abusive, but wasn’t a saint either, all of the things I’d experienced had been my main muse.”
Harry sat up from where he was tucked into Y/N, pulling back to look at her eyes which seemed a little more dull in color, but a lot brighter in shine because it looked like she was about to cry herself, and her mouth, which was set in a grim line that held an air of determination rather than discouragement. Harry was amazed. He was put in awe of someone so unique and strong and free, and he lunged for her, cradling her close and rocking her back in forth.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He spoke lowly, stroking the back of her head as he held her tightly.
“I told you I was tired of chasing love,” she said back, nestling her face into Harry’s neck as she let a few stray tears fall. It had been awhile since she’d told someone about those things, albeit just a very watered down version, but she was glad that someone was Harry, who seemed to have a knack for making her heart do funny things and who drove to her house just because she asked him to in the dead of night.
It was quiet in the room as the two held onto each other, until Y/N pulled back to look at him, but held his hands in hers, and said, “It’s close to four now. I’m sorry for making you drive here so late.”
Harry shook his head adamantly, “No, don’t apologize. Wouldn’t have… Wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to see yeh. While we’re being honest, it seems like lately seeing yeh is all I want to do.”
Y/N startled a bit, Harry could feel it in the way she tightened her grip and relaxed. She stared at him, a sort of shy wonderment in her eyes as he wondered what she was thinking. Just like last time, it was night time, and they were in close proximity, but Harry had no alcohol running through his bloodstream.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that sober Harry felt the same way about Y/N that drunk Harry did, even if he did try to suppress the strong feelings of interest he had in her since the night he’d met her.
“Seeing you is something I like doing, as well.” Y/N responded to him quietly, smiling a little bit. The conversation lulled to a stop once again, and Harry decided that comfortable silence with Y/N was not so overrated.
“It’s almost four, and I think I’m a bit tired, Harry.” Y/N said, suddenly, voice a little more soft at the edges and a little scratchy with fatigue.
“A’right, let m’carry yeh up to yeh bed then, since tha’ seems like all yeh need me for.” Harry laughed as she softly pinched his cheek, before he got up to turn off the lamp. It seemed as if she was too tired to object, and Harry didn’t mind.
He scooped her up, and she instinctively tucked her head into his neck as he walked down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom. Harry thought it was terribly funny that every encounter they’d had ended with someone’s bed, but as he looked down at Y/N’s eyes that were fluttering open and shut with every bounce of Harry’s step, he decided it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, especially since he got to see her struggle to stay awake in such an adorable manner.
Once in her bedroom, Harry gently rested her in one arm and his opposite hip in order to pull back the sheets before adjusting her to place her down softly. He made sure half of her body was covered, and the over half was bare to the air, just like she’d liked the first night he’d met her.
“Get in,” Y/N yawned, “You’re not driving back so late and you give such nice cuddles. Please come lay with me.” She tiredly patted the empty space next to her with a soft hand and well, Harry couldn’t say no.
He walked around to the other side of the bed, gently settled into her sheets, and pulled her toward him, causing her to hum and sigh contentedly. She smelled like everything good and kind in the world, and sleep began to seem like such a wonderful paradise until-
“Turn around,” Y/N urged, before rolling over to face him. Harry obliged, turning over sluggishly, and he felt her arms envelope him from behind, filling him with a sense of contentment.
Cuddling with Y/N is one of Harry’s favorite new things, he thinks sleepily as he lets the pulse of her heart and sound of her breathing lull him to sleep.
He hopes he never has to go without it from now on.
When Y/N woke up, Harry wasn’t in bed next to her. The sheets were cold, and the sunlight was more intense that it would have been if it were earlier in the morning, so she assumed it was later. Somehow, she wasn’t filled with dread and negative thoughts didn’t cloud her head. Even if her past experiences had done a number on her, she believed wholeheartedly Harry wouldn’t have simply run back to his house. She knew he was somewhere.
She swung her legs out of bed, yawning and stretching exaggeratedly before hoisting herself up and padding down the stairs. She didn’t hear any bustling, but the smell of food led her into the kitchen. Harry wasn’t there, but instead, a stack of pancakes, sunny-side up eggs, and bacon were arranged nicely on two separate plates, as well as cut up fruit. Y/N’s heart flipped a bit inside, and she smiled wide, biting the inside of her cheek as she fought to wipe it off her face.
Y/N decided that she knew exactly where Harry was, so she turned on her heel and walked down the hall into her music room. Harry was sat on the couch, his back to her, simply looking around at the room. She noticed he had pulled back the yellow curtains that had covered the windows in the room last night, washing the room in the LA summer sun.
“You cooked.” Y/N’s voice didn’t startle him. He turned around, smiling at her, before responding plainly, “I did.” She walked over to him and kneeled in front of where he sat, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them.
“Thank you.” She gazed up at him with so much sincerity that it nearly made Harry’s heart stop. “You always take care of me.”
“F’course, love. S’one of my new favorite things to do, besides cuddling yeh.” She giggled, nodding her head lightly. “Yeh play all these?” Harry gestured around the room to the instruments that glittered in the sunlight.
“I know my way around all of them, but I’m not good at all of them. It’s one thing to know how to play them, it’s another thing to play them well. Like, the trumpet. I can play notes, but I’m no Louis Armstrong.” She paused, before continuing, “I was in band and choir in high school. Music is all I’ve ever been good at. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
She said it so reverentially that it moved Harry, and suddenly, the feelings he’d been so good at suppressing bubbled to the surface, his mouth opening before his mind could put a stop to it.
“Go out on a date with me.” The words squeaked out of him, and his eyes widened as Y/N sat back a bit and looked at him intently. Harry suddenly thought that the sun’s light began to be a little too hot for his liking as he began to sweat lightly. “Doesn’t have to mean anything f’yeh don’t want it to, an’ yeh don’t have to! M’sorry if tha’ came out as a demand instead of a question, don’t want to make yeh uncomfortable-”
“Sure.” That one word halted Harry so quickly, he nearly got whiplash from it. She squeezed his hands, that she hadn’t let go of, which made Harry internally cringe because it meant she could probably feel how clammy they were. She looked up at him with a smirk, before getting up and sitting next to him on the couch.
“Really?” Harry was struck, gnawing his bottom lip worriedly as if she hadn’t heard him right and didn’t know what she was actually agreeing to.
“I said, sure. I’ll go on a date with you. I’ve been thinking lately that I’ve got a strong interest in you and I,” she breathed in as if the next words would be a laborious task to get out, “and I… Maybe we could see just how strong they are.” Harry just stared at her, still dumbfounded, so she continued, “It doesn’t have to be serious if we don’t want it to be.”
Harry began to nod his head slowly, before moving closer to her, looking her directly in the eyes.
“How about this, love,” he started, once he’d gotten his thoughts in order and his hands became a little less sweaty, “It doesn’t have to be serious, yet.”
His emphasis on the last word filled Y/N with hope as she looked back at him. “Yet” implied that Harry wanted it to be serious down the line, and it made Y/N’s insides turn to mush. Despite the past experiences she’d had, Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to be terrified of the prospect of starting something with Harry.
Not when she was looking into sea-green eyes littered with specks of gold, not when below those sea-green eyes, beautifully pink lips stretched shyly around a grin, and definitely not when those beautifully pink lips were being chewed nervously, as if he was worried he’d said the wrong thing. Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to be scared of chasing love with Harry. Not at all.
“Deal.”
{ @lovableah }
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foxydivaxx · 5 years
Text
Abel and Cain Chapter 2
Izumo will play a huge role in this story eventually. A lot of the dark Teen movies like Cruel Intentions, Heathers , a certain TV show with dragons and the Craft inspired this story. Yes, Rin is not hundred percent innocent folks and you are all in for a terrible shock here.  Both Okumura bros are batshit here just a fair warning. Some pretty dark and disturbing stuff guys.
YUKIO POV
I walk into the room to find it completely vacant. Heck Kuro is nowhere to be seen. I heave a sigh of relief because it meant one thing; either Mephisto took that bastard away or some Exorcists came for him. Either way I am glad that he is nowhere to be seen because what I am about to carry out is very dangerous and disturbing and Rin being Rin would get triggered by it thanks to how hyperemotional and sensitive he is.
Met Izumo on the way who came looking for Rin which I find highly surprising. Isn’t she supposed to be this cold, detached, high and mighty bitch who puts herself above others and only cares for that weak friend of hers. What is her name? Oh yes Paku. Yet here is Kamiki having some concern for my foolish brother. But then again, I have always noticed how flustered she acts whenever Rin was around. Which means that my hypothesis of her is true. Kamiki does have a crush on Rin. But that goes beyond that. She seems to be very understanding and sympathetic of the guy, lashing out at anyone that dares to make fun of him. Still I do not see her as a threat yet. Just an annoying little ant that can be dealt with eventually.
Anyway, I get out of the room and head off to the one place that Rin and no one in particular knows nothing about and that is my secret sanctuary, a special lab that I created in the another block of the dorm that no one knows about.
Yes I am kinda like Batman but worse because I do not care about humanity or anyone. I only care about serving my own needs. And in order to do so without anyone knowing, I have to control stuff behind the scenes.
I power up the computer system and sit and wait for it to boot. Once that is done, I then begin to connect to a secret database only I know. From there, I hook myself to the camera I have installed in Shura’s home. That’s right. I secretly installed in Shura’s home to keep a good eye on the bitch and monitor her every move. I now know her every move and now it is time to act.
“Everything ready boys?” I say into the microphone. Beelzebub then whines. “I still do not see any use in any of this shit.” I simply roll my eyes. Beelzebub is even more cowardly than both Amaimon and Rin combined and that is saying something.
“Quit your complaints and do your job.” I command him. Iblis then says “Pay him no attention boss.” I hear some scrapping which means that Iblis must have hit him. Thank God for Iblis. At least we have one competent Demon King that is hands on in more ways than one. I think you are getting the picture here.
I watch as the duo make their way to Shura’s place, masking their presence from her. Shura was in her bathroom having her bath. I smirk evilly at this. This should be easy if Shura does not put up a fight that is.
 RIN POV
“Let me get this straight. Not only were you an A-star student back in the day but also you were the IT boy?” Amaimon asked. I simply grin and nod at that. The ride of our destination has been enjoyable so far as all four of us have been chatting, mostly saying nasty stuff about Yukio hence the current subject of discussion.
 “Boy do I miss being on top and having people kiss up my ass.” I smirk fondly at the memories. Mephisto simply chuckles. “Kissing up your ass? And in what way?” My evil smirk gets nastier. “I try to play nice and all but when the situation calls for it, I play bitches like a giant chess board, moving the pieces the way I want.”
That’s right folks. Rin Okumura, or at least the Rin that you thought you knew was not and still isn’t a complete innocent ball of sunshine. No. The real Rin is a lot more darker than that. You are talking about a boy that lost his virginity at a young age. Do not ask me the age. Not only did I get high grades that were higher than all the shit Yukio brags about currently but also, I was the quintessential bad boy of the hood that everyone and I mean EVERYONE wanted to be like and wanted to date. And boy did I shag a load of people along the way. Way more than Yukio.
If teachers gave me grades I did not want, I would wait till everyone else is gone, corner the teacher and seduce them into giving me what I wanted. Oh yes, I was that bad of a person and I miss being a  bad boy.
Yukio thinks he’s the shit but guess what? I was and will always be that bitch. That benchmark he aspires to reach but can never quite get to. Yukio and I do not have and never had a picture perfect brotherly relationship.
The mere thought of being friends with that imbecile sickens me. He is the true pathetic loser here not me. The true difference between Yukio and I is that I try to play nice with everyone except him. He is a total jerk to everyone and has always been since day one though I will admit that his acting has sort of gotten better.
I act nice and can be nice. However like everyone else, I do have a dark side which I reserve for those that piss me off. I can be cold, calculating and manipulative when the need arises, something that Yukio clearly has forgotten about. Yukio and I have been having this rivalry ever since we were kids over every little thing. Whenever Father Fujimoto or the other priests were around, we would act like normal kids who would play with each other.
But when none of them were around, we would immediately turn on each other. Our fights were vicious back then. I remember throwing knives at Yukio’s head and Yukio doing the same to me. Yes we have always hated each other as kids but hid it well enough.
It got to a point that that whiny pussified bitch Yukio went to report me to Father Fujimoto, accusing me of bullying him. Funny since I was out with my friends when he reported me to Dad. I got grounded and that was when the bitch blackmailed me into downgrading myself for him. Big mistake. Now after years of humiliation at his hands, I want that bastard to suffer for every single shit that he has done to me. And I will gladly make sure of that of course.
We soon arrive at our destination which was this massive black gothic like mansion. Said mansion from the outside was so large, kinda like a little luxurious castle shaped like the letter U with dark grey bricks. There was a large oak tree by the left. I glare at Mephisto. “Someone sure loves to live fancy huh?” I say. Mephisto simply laughs. “Oh come on. You can’t blame me now can you? I love luxury and therefore must surround myself with it at all costs.”
I snort. “Touché.”
We then get out and walk into the house. I take the time to look around. The mansion was so massive and clean with dark gothic décor all over the place, starting from the chandelier. And the exquisite furniture. I feel most at peace with this shockingly. Must be my inner demon.
“This will be your new home kiddo.” Says Mephisto. I simply grins. “Ah this is more like it.” At that moment, a butler, who seems to be an elderly male demon with white hair and demon horns sticking out of his head dressed in a black suit walks into the room. “Haruto please show Rin to his room.” Mephisto instructs the butler who nods and motions to me which I do.
NORMAL POV
Shura hums as she gets out of the shower, drying her hair with a towel. The past couple weeks have been stressful thanks to Rin’s situation. She does not blame Rin for his actions. If anything, it was bound to happen anyway. However she would have preferred a far more pleasant situation. She can understand how the others feel in regards to Rin’s Satanic lineage especially if one considers the Blue Night and its terrible aftermath.
Regardless, Rin is such a nice guy deep down and does not deserve the shit people are throwing at him. She and Izumo are the only ones so far that still care and like Rin despite his lineage. Ironically she and Izumo have been having private conversations and in fact, it was she that told Izumo to go fetch Rin so that they would take him off campus. But it seems someone had already beaten them to it.  Definitely Mr Pheles.
It was then that she stops in her tracks as she feels a very powerful presence in the room. Tch….demons.
Before she could dash over to grab her sword which was in her bedroom, Iblis flash steps behind her and opens his mouth, spewing out a mouthful of flames at the lady, causing her to fall back and groan in pain. She tries to get up but Beelzebub grabs Shura and throws her so hard in the wall that she feels her spine crack. Shit….
Both demons exchange evil smirks before taking it in turns to beat up and straight up torture her, making her groans turn into screams.
Yukio meanwhile watches this sickening act with glee, letting out a psychotic evil laugh. “Now this is a wonderful piece of beauty right there!”
Once they were done, the demons disappear from the scene, leaving Shura’s bloodied corpse behind. Hours later, Izumo arrives to meet up with Shura but lets out a blood curling scream once she sees the horrible mess that lay before her.
Meanwhile, Mephisto and the others were eating their dinner which was a massive buffet of various human food, obviously out of consideration for Rin. Rin would have to admit. Haruto is a pretty good cook though he doubts he would be able to beat him in that department. At that moment, Mephisto’s phone rings. Sighing, the Demon King of Time pulls out the phone and picks the call. “What now?” he says in an irritated tone.
Once the caller on the line tells him what had happened, Mephisto’s eyes widened in shock. “WHAT?!” Rin lifts up his head. Whatever this is, it has to be serious. Once he was finished with the call, Mephisto sighs. “What happened Mephisto?” Rin asked.
“I’m afraid we have to return back to True Cross. Something bad just happened.” Astaroth glares at their brother. “Will you quit beating about the bush and get straight to the point here?!”
Mephisto nods and then says, “I’m afraid to say this Rin but I was just informed that Shura your teacher is dead…..”
Rin feels the world around him collapse. “T-That’s impossible….no….” Mephisto sighs and nods, a grim expression on his face. “Unfortunately it is true. She was apparently attacked by some powerful demons who are yet to be identified.”
Rin then clenches his hand as tears flow down his eyes. Astaroth hugs his younger brother whilst Amaimon gently pats his shoulder. “Any ideas who could be attacker anuie?” Amaimon asked. “I wouldn’t know till we get to the crime scene.” he says. Rin then wipes his tears and then says in a low angry tone, “Whoever it is that killed Shura, that person shall be destroyed…”
Yet another cliffhanger. I know. Don’t get mad at me folks. So what do you think? 
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m1kko · 6 years
Text
a little bit of help never hurt
Pairing: Tsukiyachi
Word Count: 1,901
Rating: General Audience
Summary: Yachi starts practicing on her own, and Tsukishima notices.
AO3 Link: Here it is! 
      When Yachi steals herself away during lunch, it doesn't go unnoticed.
      She thinks that she's found the perfect place, a secluded courtyard of the Karasuno campus hidden from windows and pathways. It was only by accident that she'd managed to find it herself, getting lost on her first day back in spring. It's perfect, especially when the weather is nice. Even more so when she begins practicing volleyball there by herself once a week for half an hour after she'd finished eating.
      The rules came simply to Yachi. Her practice was less of a mechanical study of the sport, Kiyoko and Takeda made sure she understood the basics at the very beginning. She was quick to pick up the tactical aspect. It's the execution of the moves that seems to evade Yachi's understanding.
      When the team tries to teach Yachi how to receive a ball, no matter how much help she is offered from Hinata and Nishinoya, she can never get the ball where she wants it to go. Half the time, even, she can hardly receive it at all. Daichi insists her performance anxiety may be getting in the way of her progress, that having so many people around makes it difficult for her to learn. Sugawara, quietly, tells Yachi that Hinata and Nishinoya aren't easily understood when it comes to volleyball-related topics.
      Yachi finds it difficult to blame outside factors for her lack of talent, however, and silently ends up placing the blame solely on her own shortcomings. So, she takes it upon herself to practice and better herself, for her own pride's sake.
----------
      It doesn't take long for Tsukishima to notice her slipping away, passing by the windows of his classroom and returning flushed in the cheeks and her hair a touch out of place. He puts it together fairly easily what she's been doing, especially given the fact he'd seen her slip one of the club's volleyballs out of the gym's door.
      He assumes she had been as stealthy as her own demeanor allowed her, and he remains surprised none of the other club members noticed. Perhaps they had noticed and looked the other way. Considering who Yachi is as a person, none of the team is likely to accuse her of anything devious.
      He notices when she leaves today. The sun is out and Tsukki finds himself at one of the school's many vending machines, headphones on, and happens to see Yachi from the corner of his eye. Tsukki makes no worry hiding the fact that he's watching her, leaving his drink at the bottom of the machine. Yachi, glancing behind her, meets his gaze and jumps, slipping behind the school building less than elegantly. Though she is out of sight, he has a faint impression that she hasn't gone far.
      A small huff of breath leaves him in the form of a short laugh. Not mocking, necessarily, but amused.
      He retrieves his drink from the machine and heads around the building, sliding his headphones off of his ears and around his neck. Music still plays and he's able to hear it faintly as he makes his way.
      When he sees her, Yachi has her back pressed flush against the building's exterior, eyes screwed shut. Tsukki slows his approach and places his hands into his pockets, squaring his shoulders.
      "Getting some practice in?" He says, as less of a question than a statement.
      Yachi peels one of her eyes open and stutters out a response, obviously shaken by his massive height.
      "U-uh, yes?" She says, as more of a question than a statement.
      Tsukki isn't sure if Yachi is scared of him as a person or is intimidated by his appearance. Either way, he doesn't like that she shy's away from him. He backs up a step, shrugging off his uniform jacket and laying it on the ground, setting his headphones on top.
      "You have a ball, right?" Tsukki is walking away from her now, stretching out his arms. "I'll pass with you for a bit. I doubt the simpleton is a good partner during practice, you won't learn anything from him."
      He glances over his shoulder and sees that she's peeled herself away from the wall and opened her other eye. Pausing, he jerks his head to the courtyard's small field, inviting Yachi to join him.
----------
      It's not as though Yachi is embarrassed about coming out to practice on her own, it's more so that she's afraid of looking stupid in front of someone so skilled. Especially one so tall and frowny, like Tsukishima.
      The thing is, though, while he's tall, he's not frowny right now.
      As he leads her to the center of the courtyard, Yachi can't help but play with her hands, her general anxiety over the sheer size of this boy making her heart pound in her chest. While his height does intimidate her, being so small, there is something graceful in the way he carries himself. Walking a few feet in front of her, she notices the relaxed tension in his shoulders, the way they sway with each step he takes. Yachi notices, also, that he shuffles his feet as he walks.
      Tsukishima finally stops and turns back to face her. She can tell her face is flushed, and she hopes he attributes it to her nerves, rather than something else. They look at each other in silence for a moment before Tsukishima speaks.
      "You do have a ball, don't you?" Again, more so a statement than a question.
      "Oh! Y-yes, one second," Yachi diverts her gaze to the ground and jogs her way over to a shrub near the field's perimeter. She shuffles around before producing a ratty volleyball, covered in a thin layer of dirt and scratched to hell. Any plan she'd had of returning it to the club has been scrapped. She hurries back to Tsukishima and hands him the ball, nervous to look at his face.
      "Here, sorry it's so beat up."
      "That'll happen if you keep it in a bush." He responds. "It's fine, at least it's not deflated."
      Yachi give him a cautious smile and Tsukishima's lips twitch in response. It's so small that Yachi barely picks up on it, but it's there nonetheless.
      Tsukishima begins with a light underhand serve, and though it travels straight to Yachi she manages to send it flying halfway across the courtyard. Her partner watches it fly far over his head and land with a soft thud several yards away.
      "Wow, okay," He says. "Shrimpy really hasn't helped you at all." Yachi apologizes quickly and moves to shag the ball, but Tsukishima stops her. He jogs over and palms it, hurrying back to her as she apologizes profusely.
      "One more time." Tsukishima moves to serve to Yachi once more, and she prepares herself.
      Once again, as the ball hits her forearms, it's sent flying in the wrong direction. This time, Yachi runs to get it herself, partially to not have to stand and wallow in her embarrassment. When she returns, Tsukishima is waiting patiently with his hands outstretched. She passes the ball to him with both hands.
      "I've been trying, I'm just no good. Sorry, I'll do better."
      "It's not that you're bad, you've just got the wrong form. Hinata's passed his bad habits off to you." He sets the ball on the ground and crosses his arms. "Show me your stance again." He says.
      She does, and he takes a moment to observe her. Yachi stares intently at the ground, and her cheeks flood with a new heat. Tsukishima closes the gap between them with a quick jog and presses lightly on her shoulder with his hand.
      "Your feet need to be farther apart," He says, and drops his gaze to match hers. Quickly, she widens her stance, and corrects herself when Tsukishima says that it's too much. Yachi barely hears him as he continues on, she's focused more on the hand he's laid on her shoulder.
      "Got it?" He asks. She did not, in fact, have it. She had stopped listening after his first tip.
      "Uh, one more time?" She responds, a small quake in her voice.
      "Your hips need to be lower to the ground. Bend your knees more." Yachi does this, and Tsukishima walks back to his original position, picking up the ball.
      After a moment, she lifts her gaze once more, cheeks still red, and clasps her hands. Tsukishima serves the ball lightly once more, and Yachi prepares herself. As the ball connects, she's so focused on keeping her stance that she doesn't move an inch. The ball flies generally in the same direction from which it came, but stops short of Tsukishima.
      However, Yachi is ecstatic.
      "It didn't go crazy!" She forgets herself and gives a small jump, happy that it somewhat heeded her direction.
      "It also fell way, way short." Tsukishima says, retrieving the ball again. "When you hit the ball, don't forget to swing your arms. Not a lot, you've just gotta gauge the distance."
      "R-right," Yachi says, still happy.
      "It was good, though." He says, a light smile dimpling his cheeks. "Better than what Shrimpy could do when he started here."
      Yachi is smiling now, too, a large and happy one. She reassumes her form and nods at Tsukishima, signaling that she's ready. Once more, Tsukishima serves the ball and, once more, Yachi receives it. This time, however, as the ball approaches, Yachi takes a light swing at it. It connects, stinging her forearms a bit, and travels just a bit left of Tsukishima, and a foot short.
----------
      Tsukki adjusts his positioning and easily receives the ball, sending it straight into the air before he catches it.
      When he looks to Yachi, about to praise her, he's delightfully surprised that she's already run over to him, babbling.
      "I did it! That one was good, right? It hurt my arms a little bit, but it felt cool!" Tsukki's heart flutters, just once, and he looks at her face. She's occupied, looking down at her hands and rubbing her forearms.
      "That was pretty good," He says, honestly. "I mean, the form isn't perfect, but we're just going over the basics." Yachi looks up at him, and with a smile so big plastered across her face, he can't help but reciprocate one of his own.
      "It's much easier with a partner, I've never been able to get it to go the way I wanted it to before." She looks up at him, their height difference staggering. "Thank you, Tsukishima!"
      Tsukki blushes so extremely that he's sure his entire face is the same shade as a beet. He uses his free hand to cover the bottom half of his face.
      Looking at her only makes it worse, so he averts his eyes and looks to the sky. Yachi is still rambling, hardly paying attention to him, and he takes a deep breath in, then exhales slowly.
      "Well, maybe next week… I could join you again." Yachi stops mid-sentence, and slowly, Tsukishima lowers his head to look at her.
      She's staring up at him, red-faced. It takes a few moments, both of them in silence, before she answers.
      "Y-yes! That would be great, Tsukishima!" Relieved, Tsukki lets out the last of his breath and smiles again, lightly.
      "Come on," He says, turning away quickly. "We've got a few minutes before the bell, let's try again."
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