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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 11 months ago

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Jack goes head over heels for Spirit Week- Prompt: Fainting

Fandom: A.P. Bio

A blood drive at Whitlock for Spirit Week doesn't quite go to plan.

Read here or below the cut!

Back when Toledo, Ohio had seemed more like a temporary place of refuge where Jack licked his wounds from his Harvard disgrace, the idea of remaining there for not just one but two Spirit Weeks would have been scoffed at. Jack Griffin, ex-Harvard grad and professor, becoming any sort of ambassador for a high school in Toledo? No chance.

Life has a way of surprising you, though, and Jack’s surprise comes in the form of vibrant banners and Ram pins on his signature cardigans that he wouldn’t have been seen dead in before.

Strangest of all, it comes in the form of... a blood drive?

Mary, Stef, and Michelle are of course the perpetrators of this scheme- he’s only standing in this queue because they dragged him into it after them, chattering amongst themselves about how good the cookies are that they give you after the donation. Jack had closed his ears to that discussion, though, because even just the word ‘donation’ has him feeling a little lightheaded. Nope. This is not a good idea. How the hell has he been tricked into doing this, into giving away his precious lifeblood for a school in Ohio of all places?

It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous. Really, he has no reason to remain in this queue at all. If he’s super inconspicuous, maybe he can just slide his way out and-

“Hey, no weaselling your way out of this!” Mary chides, taking him by the arm just as he makes the first move to escape. “I know you’re severely lacking in school spirit, but come on, Jack. It’s for a good cause!”

Jack swallows, shrugging his shoulders in a way he hopes makes him look nonchalant- like his lack of school spirit actually is the reason for his antipathy.

“Hey, I’m... I’m doing my part already, right?” He gestures vaguely to the Ram pin, and Stef rolls her eyes.

“A pin ain’t helping any sick kids, Jack. This is about more than just Whitlock! It’s about the kids... and the cookies... mostly the kids.”

The other ladies nod in agreement, and Jack feels a little too much like the emblem on his chest. He’s fenced in here, unable to do anything but bleat out excuses and butt his horns, because if he tells them the truth- that he does not react well to giving blood- he’s done for. It’s goddamn embarrassing.

So, all he does is wait in the line, watching the three women in front of him step past the curtain one by one, heart hammering in his chest for the moment when he’s forced to take a step forward. He turns around- only a few other teachers are behind him, one being Dave, who gives him a creepy little wave.

Oh God. It’s either Dave or giving blood, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

“Alright, Jack, in you go.”

He turns, and Michelle is in front of him, Stef and Mary at either side of her. All three have tiny cotton balls taped against their forearms. Jack thinks he might be sick.

“Wow, does the thought of helping those kids upset you that much?” Stef teases, clearly noticing his hesitation. “Get in there, and we’ll follow you to make sure we have proof of your good deed. And to make sure you actually go through with it.”

Jack looks from her to the blue curtain in the nurses office. Back to Stef.

“Go on.” She says, giving him a little playful push. “We won’t judge you for your philanthropy too much, if that’s what you’re worried about, tough guy.”

It’s not what he’s worried about at all, actually. What he is worried about is the likelihood of him greening out over a single goddamn needle, which is, from past experience, pretty fucking high. So at last, when Stef tries to urge him even further forward, he turns around and gives up the ghost.

“Look, I... I don’t know whether this is such a good idea. I don’t... I’m not good with... with blood.”

Mary snorts. “You don’t have to look at it if you don’t want to, ya big baby. Just turn your head away.”

Jack rouges. Fuck. They’re not getting it at all.

“No, it’s not... it’s not that I don’t like the sight of blood, I just... my body doesn’t... I’m not good with giving blood. I get, like, reactions and shit. Reactions that I would rather not put up with, if I’m being completely honest with you.”

He sighs, averting his eyes as the tips of his ears redden too, expecting to at last be granted an ‘out’ (even if it does mean he’s laughed at for the rest of the day).

Instead, though-

“Yeah, yeah, enough with the excuses. Come on, get in there! We’re right behind you.”

And with that, before he can loose another sound of protest, he’s pushed forward on the tidal wave of his supposed friends in through the door and past the blue curtain, coming face to face with that dreaded chair and a sweetly-smiling nurse who has no idea what she’s about to get into.

“Hi there. Just take a seat for me, and get comfortable.”

Jack turns, but is met with a brick wall shaped like Mary, Stef, and Michelle. Beneath their unbelieving gaze, all he can do is slink away and sit down in the chair.

“Our friend here’s a little nervous.” Mary announces, causing Jack’s ears to tinge an even deeper shade of magenta than he thought possible. “Is it okay if we just stand here?”

The nurse, turned away as she fiddles with the tools (needleneedleneedleneedle), turns back to them briefly to flash a disarming smile.

“Oh, of course! No worries at all.” She focuses her attention on Jack, and he shrinks beneath it. He feels like a little kid again, sat in the doctor’s office while the nurse convinces him that he’s being overdramatic, that he’ll be fine. “I’ll be as quick as I can, alright?”

When she next swivels round, she’s holding the thing- a needle in one hand, a vial in the other. Jack blanches.

“Look, I just- I get reactions. I think maybe- I don’t know whether-“

The nurse gives him another gentle smile, one that he can tell is underpinned by the same disbelief in his claims that Mary, Stef, and Michelle all feel too. He’s a grown man, and that means he can’t be capable of fainting because of a needle, right? He doesn’t fit the profile for that kind of donor.

“It’ll be fine.” She tells him, already inching closer and-

He squeezes his eyes shut, because there’s nothing else he can do now. She’s wiping his arm, and she isn’t listening to a word of what he’s saying, and then he feels that tell-tale pinch of the needle. He barely flinches, because it isn’t the pain that scares him, and in fact his shoulders sag a little the moment it enters, a sign that the nurse interprets as relaxation.

“See? Not so bad.”

What she doesn’t know, of course, is that she’s witnessing a resigned acceptance, not relaxation. He knows now that he can’t stop what’s about to happen, and though it doesn’t make things any more bearable, there’s at least no point in trying to fight it anymore. His head is swimming a little already.

“There. All done. You can open your eyes now, I promise.”

He does. The ladies are all looking at him a little triumphantly.

“We were trying to tell you in the line that it wasn’t painful, but no, Harvard always knows best. Bet you feel silly now, huh? Hey, take a cookie.”

Jack offers Mary, the speaker, a weak smile. She’s not trying to be cruel, and really he might be okay this time anyway.

“We’re supposed to make you wait fifteen minutes, but you’ll be fine.” The nurse says. Jack wants to laugh at her.

Yeah, right.

“Come on, Jack.” Michelle beckons.

As he swings his legs over the side and stands up for the first time, he thinks for a moment that maybe his theatrics were a bit much. That perhaps his past experiences were all freak happenings, or that this time, by fluke, he’s escaped syncope after all.

The next few steps, however, dispel him of that notion instantly.

Oh shit. He’s fucked.

Within seconds, his vision is tunnelling, and he reaches out blindly for one of the women to cling onto. He lands on Stef, who laughs a little at his first clawing grasp, clearly thinking he’s playing it up as a joke even as pins and needles start to prickle at the back of his neck, weighing down the rest of his limbs.

“Yeah, very funny, Jack. What, you gonna pass out now?”

And ironically, that’s exactly what he does.

“Jack?... Jack?”

He’s floating and sinking at the same time, filled with an indescribable mixture of heaviness in his limbs and a lightness in his head. It’s almost like he’s drifting on the ocean, especially thanks to the voices which ebb and flow in his awareness. The only thing dispelling him of that notion, in fact, is the cold hard surface which he can feel his cheek is pressed up against. He’s certain it can’t be water.

“Okay, don’t panic- hey, can you get his shoulders? Perfect. And you? Yeah, just underneath his feet, thanks.”

The waves- no, not waves, though he can’t be sure what exactly they are- tickle his skin, and he feels himself slightly jostled beneath their tugging current.

“1...”

An ache makes itself known in his every limb.

“2...”

His mouth is uncomfortably dry.

“3.”

The tide surges upwards, and he’s carried with it, lurching nauseatingly away from the cool surface he was previously anchored to. Thankfully, it isn’t long before his sanctuary is replaced by another, and he’s lowered back down somewhere a little more comfortable. When he turns his head, shuddering, his nose brushes against a leather-like material.

A few more voices jumble in the haze that is his consciousness, but they appear directed towards each other rather than him so he lets himself sink against this new surface, tuning everything out.

Of course, though, he doesn’t exist unbothered for long.

“Jack... Hey, sweetheart, can I get you to open your eyes for me?... Jack?”

The voice isn’t one his mind latches onto as familiar. Well, it is familiar, but not as familiar as-

“Come on, Jack. Open your eyes for us, okay?”

He knows that one. Yes. Mary. Definitely.

A cool touch brushes against his forehead and he manages just enough strength to loose a low groan, one that rumbles in his chest and leaves him feeling breathless in spite of its brevity.

“That’s it, you’re alright. Easy now.”

Another touch, this time pressing firmly against his wrist.

“He’s doing okay.” The not-quite-familiar voice again. “Pulse is speeding up a little again.”

“Is that good?” Stef now.

“It is... could you open a window? Just to get some fresh air in here?”

Footsteps, then a faint click. A breeze tickles Jack’s cheek. At last, he inhales a breath deep enough to allow his eyes to open a crack.

Everything’s a little blurred at first, and the lights of the room make his head throb, but a few figures bob into view. One of them is the nurse from before (of course, that’s the not-quite-familiar voice), but her slightly apologetic smile is quickly swallowed up by the other faces that lurch into his eye line.

“Oh, thank God.” The blurred form with Stef’s voice sighs.

“We are so sorry.” Michelle this time.

Jack wants to formulate a response- something like an ‘I told you so’, because he’s remembering where he is again and it seems fitting given the situation- but his mouth feels tacky and all he can utter is another sickly sounding groan of disapproval, rolling his barely open eyes before they quickly flutter closed again.

“Jack? Jack?!”

He shudders, sniffing weakly. “Mm... m’here.”

A collective sigh of relief, followed by Mary’s voice.

“Okay. Just checking...” When she next speaks, it’s a little fainter, and he can tell she isn’t directing her words to him but instead to the nurse now standing somewhere else in the room. “Is it normal for him to be this pale?”

Some more clicking footsteps, then a noncommittal hum. “I’ll... I’ll go fetch something to get his blood sugar up.”

For the next few moments, he’s mostly undisturbed, drifting in and out of awareness while somebody cards through his hair. The hushed whispers of the women only break through occasionally.

“I thought he was just playing around with us. I didn’t think he was actually going to pass out.”

“Yeah, me neither... God, poor guy. Did you see him reach out for you?”

“Mhmm.”

It’s hard to focus in on anything, but from what he can tell, he’s being coddled from all angles right now. There are hands in his hair, one holding his- another one is brushing against his cheek, pinching lightly every so often as if to will the colour to bloom in his face again.

“Here we go.” He hadn’t heard the footsteps, but the nurse is apparently back. “See if you can get him to have some of that- slowly, though. Don’t want him to make himself sick.”

“Yeah, okay... Jack? Hey, we’ve got something for you.”

He swallows thickly. The thought of anything else but sleep right now is wholly unappealing. “Mm...”

“Jack?”

He curls in further on himself with a little shudder, and he hears another sigh.

“Alright, you don’t even need to open your eyes. Just have a small sip of this, please?”

Something rough and plastic swipes against his bottom lip- a straw. He barely has the energy to move, but opening his mouth is just about manageable. While the straw is held in place, he takes a languid sip, the dryness on his tongue thankfully disappearing beneath a gentle flood of... orange juice?

“Good job, Jack. That’s it. Nice and slow.”

After a few meagre sips, he pulls backwards, and whoever’s holding the juice box thankfully gets the hint. He really doesn’t want anything else.

Just as he’s about to drift off again, though, he’s interrupted.

“Jack...”

“Mmm...”

“I’m afraid we’re gonna have to get you set up somewhere else, okay? Believe it or not there are still a few people up for the blood drive after your spectacle.”

He opens one eye, barely resisting the urge to fall asleep. “Mm... Do I have to?”

“Move?” Mary answers.

Jack nods.

“Yeah... sorry, bud.”

“Oh... s’okay.”

Stef laughs a little, probably because he’s never so docile when he’s not on the verge of unconsciousness, but it’s tinged with fondness.

“Alright, Jack. Let’s get you onto that break room couch.”

There are few things Lynette gets to see in her job as a payroll officer that are actually interesting- usually, it’s the odd student fight in the hallways, or a gossipy email from Joyce about one of the parents. Today, however, things have been pretty damn boring, and her only consolation is that it’s lunchtime, which means she has a bit of a break from the humdrum to catch up with some of the teachers. They often have something good to say.

Plus, of course, it’s where she gets to spend a few minutes with her boyfriend, and she hasn’t heard from him all morning, which is... odd. Usually, they’re texting back and forth, even when he’s supposed to be teaching (not that Lynette explicitly endorses this).

She’s in the middle of pondering just why he might be radio silent when she wanders into the break room, and in an instant, her questions are answered for her. Although plenty more arise.

Jack is curled up on the couch, heaped with blankets, and judging by his closed eyes, unfurrowed brow, and the way he doesn’t seem aware of Mary, Stef, and Michelle fussing over him, he’s out like a light. She knows he’s fond of naps, but as far as she knows, he’s never taken one in the break room where the women can latch onto his vulnerability. It’s not a good sign. The unnatural pallor of his cheeks doesn’t exactly bode well either.

“Oh God...” she murmurs, setting down her mug on the side and moving closer to the couch. “Please tell me it’s not the flu again.”

Her hand brushes lightly against his forehead as she crouches down, but her attempt to feel for fever comes back with promising results. Aside from being a little clammy, he doesn’t feel sick.

“It’s not.” Mary assures her quietly, still dragging her fingers through his hair every so often in a soothing motion. Perhaps it should make Lynette jealous, but she knows Jack’s friendship with the women well enough to understand that there’s nothing sexual in the touch.

“So...?”

Michelle smiles a little. “He, uh... he passed out. After giving blood.”

Lynette’s anxiety slips away entirely, and she can’t help but smile too. “Of course he did. And I bet you didn’t believe him when he told you he was going to.”

Stef frowns. “Wait, you know that he faints after blood donations?!”

“Uh, yeah. I’m his girlfriend, remember? I literally had to haul him off the floor after they asked for a blood test at his last doctor’s appointment. Happens like clockwork, bless him.”

She turns her attention back to her sleeping boyfriend, the hand she placed at his forehead moving down to stroke his cheek. Where usually he would lean in to press a kiss to her palm, today he doesn’t move a muscle. God, he really is exhausted.

“So he’s going to be okay, then?” Mary asks, a little tentatively.

Lynette smiles at her concern. “He’s going to be fine. Old man just needs a nap. And maybe a sugar cube.”

Michelle tilts her head. “A sugar cube? Like the things you give to horses?”

It’s at this moment that Jack decides to stir, smiling sleepily. “Neeighhhh...”

Lynette’s gaze flits to him, mirth lifting the corners of her own mouth as she strokes along the curve of his jaw again. “Ah. There we are. You awake, Secretariat?”

Jack only mumbles incoherently, the breath he exhales through his nostrils warming the skin of her hand, but it’s good enough for her. She leans in to press a kiss against his nose, just as he drifts back off again.

“Yeah... didn’t think so. Sleep well, hon.”

And, when she eventually has to return to her desk alongside the chattiest of gossips, she does so safe in the knowledge that Jack is being looked after. With Mary, Stef, and Michelle, he always is in the end.

***

#bad things happen bingo #fainting whump #ap bio #jack griffin #whump

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thessalian · 2 months ago

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Thess vs Division of Labour

On the one hand, I am looking very forward to my upcoming week off. By which I mean, it's the only thing making the thought of having to work tomorrow somewhat bearable.

On the other hand, I am not looking forward to spending a week stressing over what the typing queue will look like when I get back. It's bad enough as it is, with Temp having been off this week and The Other Part-Timer having been off sick. (Though, to be fair, The Other Part-Timer is now full-time but she's not on typing anymore, so I guess either way we're kind of screwed in that regard.) But when I go off...

Look. I'll give it to Goblin - she pretty much pulls her weight. And Temp ... well, as long as you don't expect her to do anything long or complicated (because not having a high number of things typed makes her feel 'unproductive', which I guess is all right for the rest of us somehow), she gets shit done. But New Girl? Oh gods, New Girl.

Today, for instance. It was a hellish day. We were struggling to--

No. Sorry.

I was struggling to get things back on track given Temp being off and no longer having The Other Part-Timer typing, given a bunch of folks who came in to dictate on the weekend. We are finally to the point where we were actually doing some of today's typing today, as in we cleared all of yesterday's typing before close of play. But the mess of that... Two complicated placenta cases dictated by someone who's new to placenta cut-up. Three extensive breast cases by a new individual who isn't entirely sure of herself but has picked up enough from The Breast Guy to skip around in the dictation as it suits her. A grand total of eight messes by The Word Salad Guy. A few from lesser Word Salad Individuals. And a dozen by one of the ones who skirts annoyance territory because she does complicated ones while speaking very quickly, and often makes minor word salad without the excuse of "English is not her first language". Also another one who makes her dictations twice as long by dictating the lab numbers on every pot when we don't need to type that, and the one who dictates by block instead of doing a block key like normal people-- and this makes very little sense to anyone who isn't me, sorry. Suffice it to say that it was a mess.

New Girl got one of the new individual's breast cases and one of Word Salad Guy's cases - and that under duress because she'd picked out everything else that might qualify as easy before that even got looked at and I had other shit to do, so all the rest of hers were easier ones, and shorter ones. I had both placenta cases, the longest of the breast cases, seven of the eight messes from Word Salad Guy, everything from the one who skirts annoyance territory, and most of the rest of the Annoyances in general.

She started at 10:00, took an hour lunch (where she dumped more complicated ones she hadn't got around to back into the queue so someone else would do them while she was away), and left at 16:00 or so. Total reports typed: 39.

I started at 11:00, had a few microbreaks so I didn't start spasming, finished at 17:30, and got far more of the complicated and longer ones than she did. Total reports typed: 93.

I'd ask if anyone else was seeing the issue here, but as @mxlabradorite said to me recently, that's been my professional life for over twenty years now.

Honestly, I'm kind of glad that we had to cancel Saturday D&D shenanigans this week. I am so tired, and I hurt so much, and I need to recover. I have no idea how the fuck I'm going to manage to get through tomorrow at this point. Worst of all, though, is that I'm going to end up stressing for at least part of my much-needed, well-deserved week off about how those yahoos I work with are just going to go at their usual slow-to-middling pace while I'm gone because "it's just a job". For fuck's sake, am I the only person in that damned virtual office that remembers that there's a patient waiting to find out if they have cancer attached to those names and lab numbers?!?

(Answer: yes. Either that or they don't care. Fuck that; knowing that I'm sometimes the difference between life and death for some of these patients is what keeps me going half the time. And given my work in various stages of oncology, no, I am not exaggerating, or at least not by much. The earlier you catch something like that, the earlier you get treatment and the better the odds of forcing it into remission. At worst, I'm giving someone desperately needed reassurance that they don't have something life-threatening. That's worth a lot.)

Oh, and Scruffman hasn't said a damn word about performance reviews. I figure that'll be sprung on me on short notice either tomorrow or once I get back. Or maybe Scruffman will have a well-timed attack of good sense and wait for the week after I get back, as I'll be busting my ass dealing with the backlog those dipshits leave me while I'm gone.

...Don't worry too much. I'll have some things to keep me occupied so work worries aren't eating my head all the time. Sunday D&D is still a thing and it's getting spicy for these guys. Silent Hill 2 drops in early access then too, so if I'm really feeling better, I can do a lovely spooky all-nighter and either way, I'll have James Sunderland's emotional issues made manifest in eldritch ways to distract me.

(Please, Bloober Team, don't have fucked this up...)

#Thess has a day job

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crystalninjaphoenix · 1 year ago

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Eye of the Storm

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

Almost forgot to queue this because I was having so much fun with my friends haha. Anyway I'm very tired as I write this author's note so I'll be brief. This is mostly setup for the next chapter, and some exposition. JJ and Marvin look into some magic stuff, once again investigating that strange crystal ball. Meanwhile, Schneep thinks he's found where Jackie is. And yeah. A buncha stuff happens. Enjoy haha.

More of This AU | | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

Hey JJ. Those sound like some pretty serious issues. Do you want to meet up to talk about it in person?

JJ read the text from Persephone again, then looked up and scanned the restaurant. He was in the Waffle Cone, the same place where Aoife first introduced him to Persephone, the head of the Magic Circle. He was even sitting at the same table against the left wall. The waiter had been over a couple times to ask for his order, but he explained through writing that he wanted to wait for someone.

After what felt like forever, Persephone finally walked in. She noticed JJ right away and hurried over. “I am so sorry, I got caught up at work,” she said, sitting down.

Magic Circle things?

“No, I mean my actual job. What, d’you think running a magician coven pays the bills?” She laughed, then became serious once more. “Okay. But let’s get to this right away. This sounds like a complicated mess you’re in. Where do you want to start?”

JJ thought about it. Do you remember what I told you about Anti?

“The mind-control, right?” Persephone nodded. “That’s... pretty bad. Any magician who put someone under a spell like that would be immediately locked up for using strong black magic. This Distorter thing was able to just... do that?”

Well, Anti had been isolated for a couple days, JJ said. By that group I was looking for. IRIS. I think Distorter took advantage of that to... break him down.

“Hmm.” Persephone pursed her lips. “It’s... hard to know where to stand on Distorter. Aoife and I have done some research. He might be a Void, but I’ve never heard of a Void being so proficient in mental powers.”

What is a Void?

“Someone who has been consumed by a dark power.”

JJ sighed. That would make sense.

“But if Distorter is a Void, he’s not a normal one,” Persephone emphasized. “And honestly, a Void status would not help us to figure out Anti’s situation.” She paused. “Do you guys have any ideas at all?”

Our friend Stacy seemed to distract Distorter before, JJ recalled. Anti came out of the trance for a time while he was concerned with her.

“So you can distract him for a minute. That’s good. I did bring a list of counterspells.” Persephone reached into her purse and pulled out a few pieces of paper stapled together. “Maybe you could cast one while Distorter is distracted and it’ll dispel the power keeping Anti under his control.”

JJ raised an eyebrow at the list. Each page was covered in handwriting, on both sides. That’s a lot.

“There’s a lot of counterspells. And they’re always very long, which, by the way, have I ever mentioned how impressive it is that you can cast magic without spell words or some sort of implement like a wand?”

Practice, JJ said. My stage mask IS an implement, though, so if you see me wearing it casually, it’s because it makes things easier. But back to the topic at hand. What if the Circle helped with these counterspells? We both know multiple magicians makes magic stronger. Everyone couldn’t fit in the hospital, but surely we could bring Anti to the meeting house.

“Counterspells don’t work like that,” Persephone muttered sadly. “They’re sort of... they run opposite to all the usual rules. It’s why most magicians don’t even try to learn them. And I don’t think there’s a spell spell that could help your friend Anti.”

JJ sighed. He expected that, honestly. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed. What about IRIS? he asked.

“Oh yeah, we can totally help you find another one of their facilities if you need to,” Persephone said. “But remember. It was very tiring for us.”

Of course I remember that. He could vividly feel the lurch as their spells slammed into IRIS’s strange artificial power over and over again.

“So you have to be sure where this facility is,” she said. “And be sure that your friend is there. We probably won’t be able to do that two nights in a row. Hell, maybe not even two weeks in a row.”

That complicated things. It meant that JJ would have to rely on Schneep to find where Jackie was. But he nodded understandingly anyway. We’ll be sure. Now. Is there anything you want to tell me?

“Found anything else out about that crystal ball with the time magic in it?”

JJ shook his head. Not at all. I haven’t seen any more strange images in it. He’d tried a couple times, late at night mostly, staring into his own reflection in the hope that he could somehow divine a solution to this... this calamity they were in. Can you help with that?

“I can’t, but Aoife can. She’s the diviner, remember?” Persephone gave a little chuckle. “Call her sometime. Or... text her. Or you could FaceTime her, then she could see your signs.”

JJ groaned a little. How have I never thought about video calls for sign communication?

Persephone laughed. “Everyone has a blind spot. Don’t worry about it. Call her sometime, okay?”

I certainly will after realizing that.

“Great. Did you order food?”

JJ was a bit surprised at the sudden change in subject, but he rolled with it. No, I figured I should wait for you. I’m not too hungry anyway.

“Well I am. So let’s get something. We can talk about more magic while we do. I’m sure you have more questions about the Circle.”

And so they ordered.

———————

True to his word, Jameson called Aoife almost as soon as he got home, pausing only to tell Marvin everything Persephone had told him. Marvin was just as disappointed as he was to hear the Circle couldn’t help with Anti. “It woul’ve been awkward, anyway,” he said, covering up said disappointment. “We woul’ be jus’ standin’ around as you and all your magician friends did t’at.” And when JJ mentioned he was going to go up to the workroom and call Aoife about the crystal ball, Marvin said he would come, too. “I’m jus’ as curious about the t’ing as you are, y’know.” JJ pointed out that the wheelchair couldn’t go upstairs. But Marvin insisted. So JJ gave in and helped him up.

So now the two of them were there. Marvin sat in the room’s one chair—a swivel chair paired with the desk—while JJ propped his phone up using the pop socket and a scarf, and called Aoife through FaceTime.

It took a while before she picked up. When she did, it looked like she was somewhere... old? An old library? The reference section of an old library? JJ could see bookshelves of binders behind her. “Jameson? What’s up?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Is this a bad time? JJ asked.

“No, it’s fine, I was just doing paperwork for an old case. It can wait. What is it?”

I wanted to ask more about this. JJ held up the black crystal ball, careful not to touch it with his hands and instead using another scarf as a barrier.

“Have you seen anything else in there?”

JJ shook his head, put the crystal ball down again, and signed, The opposite, actually. I’ve been trying but nothing happens.

“What have you been doing to try?”

JJ paused. Last time it activated when I just touched it, so... that? And pouring magic into it.

Aoife shook her head. “I don’t think that would do anything.”

Why not? It did last time.

“How do I put this... sometimes old magic items will randomly become super sensitive. I’m not sure how old the crystal ball is, but I know I had it for years, and the Circle had it for years before me.”

JJ frowned. Somehow, that explanation sounded... wrong. Like it wasn’t what was happening. What about me pouring magic into it?

“Raw power?” Aoife asked. When JJ nodded, she continued. “Yeah no, that wouldn’t work. Divination is very specific magic, very tricky to wield. Most people can’t do it on their own, they need special tools. And before you say the crystal ball could be a tool, I’ll remind you it isn’t even supposed to have time magic in the first place. It’s not the right kind of crystal.”

“T’is is all very fascinatin’, and I do mean t’at,” Marvin said. “But can we get it t’work at all, t’en?”

“Oh! God, Marvin, you scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Sorry! Forgot I was out of frame.” Marvin wheeled the desk chair into view of the phone with his good leg and cane. “Hello, Aoife. Nice t’see ye.”

“Nice t’see ye too,” Aoife repeated, her Irish accent briefly becoming stronger. “Anyway. You want it to work again?”

JJ nodded.

“Well, check first that it still has magic in it. Do you know how to do a Revelation?”

Another nod. JJ learned it after seeing Persephone do it one time.

“Do it, then.”

JJ held a hand over the crystal ball. He pulled his stage mask down over his face and concentrated. A light blue mist curled around his fingers and fell onto the crystal.

The black crystal surface changed immediately, the reflections on it disappearing. Instead, a tunnel appeared. It seemed to disappear into the crystal, a vortex of blue and orange swirling into infinity. It only appeared for a second, and then it was gone, and the ordinary reflections were back.

Aoife started to say something, but was interrupted when Marvin shouted. He wheeled closer to the table where the crystal was. “T’at—! T’at was—! T’at—!”

Marvin? JJ signed, confused. Calm down.

“Spiral!” Marvin shouted. “The spiral tunnel!”

What’s the spiral tunnel? JJ asked, confused.

“I... I-I don’ remember!” Marvin clutched his head. “I don’ remember, but t’at’s it!”

“Have you seen that before?” Aoife asked from the phone screen.

“Yes!” Marvin’s head shot up again and he pointed at her insistently. “Yes, I’ve seen it before!”

When? JJ asked, curious.

“I... I don’ remember!” Marvin slumped in his seat. “But I know I have. I know I have.”

“Well, that spiral tunnel also appeared when Persephone Revealed the crystal’s magic to us a couple weeks ago, so it must be a sign of that time magic,” Aoife said. “You’re JJ’s man-out-of-time friend. Maybe... you saw it when you arrived here. Or, now.”

We never figured out where that time magic came from, either, JJ recalled.

“Do you t’ink...” Marvin paused, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Is t’ere any way I caused it?”

“Did you ever come into contact with the crystal?” Aoife asked.

“Yes... one day, the day Distorter... used Anti to take me to...” Marvin’s voice got steadily quieter, until eventually it faded away entirely.

JJ’s eyes widened. Marvin, didn’t you see Anti in the reflection of the crystal? And then he attacked you?

“From behind...” Marvin whispered, revelation dawning on his face. “The way he got me t’at day. From behind. A-and I saw him behind me in the crystal.”

“Alright, forget what I said about old magic items being sensitive,” Aoife dismissed. “The reason Jameson saw visions while simply touching it is probably because the crystal was recently imbued with the magic at that point. By now it’s settled so it will be harder to activate.”

“You agree, t’en?” Marvin pressed. “T’at magic came from me?”

“Most likely. From what I know, the timeline seems to add up. Marvin, you’re a witch, aren’t you?”

“I’m—e-excuse me?”

“Someone who uses magickal items and rituals on a regular basis,” Aoife explained.

“I... do have my magickal cards,” Marvin said slowly. “But how do you know t’at?”

Aoife blinked. “I’m... not sure. It must have been one of my feelings.”

We always trust Aoife’s feelings, JJ said to Marvin. She did think something was wrong about those IRIS cameras, remember?

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.” Marvin decided to move on. “But what does me bein’ a... witch... have t’do with t’is whole mess?”

“That’s the question,” Aoife mused. “As a witch you don’t have magic of your own, you shouldn’t be able to imbue objects with power by yourself. Did you have your cards at that point?”

“...no.” Marvin slowly shook his head.

This is all very confusing, JJ said. But, I called you for a purpose, Aoife. How do I use the crystal ball’s magic again? To see the visions?

“Hmm.” Aoife thought about it. “Marvin. Can you touch it first? Maybe it needs... a refresh?”

“I s’pose it’s worth a try,” Marvin said, shrugging. He pushed his chair right up to the table and reached out. “Do I... pick it up?” JJ nodded, so Marvin took a deep breath and grabbed the crystal ball in both hands. He stared at his reflection on its surface.

“Do you see anything unusual?” Aoife asked quietly.

“I t’ink...” Marvin paused. “I t’ink the room behind me is diff’rent? T’ere are no bookshelves, and the walls are lighter in color.” He laughed. “T’at’s not as big a clue for the future as Anti bein’ behind me. All t’is means is I’ll be in a different room eventually.”

That’s still proof that there’s some time magic still in there, Jameson said. Aoife? Do you think I can activate it now?

“Touch it and see if you see anything,” Aoife suggested.

JJ nodded slowly. He reached out to take the crystal ball from Marvin—

An image flashed before his eyes. A single vision, one of the many he’d seen that day. Jackie, sitting at a computer screen in a dark room. Only now... now the image was clearer. Crisper. He could see more of the room, though its plain office-like appearance told him nothing. What mattered more... was the image he could see on the sleeve of the white coat Jackie was wearing. It resembled an eye, with three circles for irises.

And then it was gone.

“You saw somet’ing, didn’ you?” Marvin asked. “Your expression... went all shocked... all of a sudden.”

JJ took a deep breath, and raised his hands to sign shakily. I saw Jackie sitting in an office, at a computer. He was wearing a white coat... with IRIS’s logo on it.

“...oh,” Marvin whispered.

Well, that’s not very helpful, JJ said, trying to dismiss the shock of what he’d seen. We know Jackie is working for IRIS now.

“Sometimes it helps to think of visions as guidance, or as confirmation,” Aoife said.

“So... it’s tellin’ us t’at we shoul’ definitely find Jackie before we deal with Anti’s situation?” Marvin guessed.

Or it’s confirming that Jackie really is working for them like we thought, JJ said. Then he paused. I saw that same vision before... just less clear. Was it... always trying to tell us this...?

“It must have,” Aoife confirmed.

“If it was tellin’ us the same t’ing weeks ago... does t’at mean our future is locked...?” The expression on Marvin’s face could only be described as ‘overwhelmed by gloom.’

“Now boys,” Aoife said firmly. “That’s not true. The whole reason divination is hard for those who don’t have the natural talent is because the future is so uncertain. Having the same vision twice in a row just means it hasn’t changed yet. Or, it has, but that particular event isn’t what changed. Or it has but the meaning of the event is different now. It’s all very complicated. Don’t worry too much about the future.”

JJ blinked, as if that concept was completely foreign to him.

“We’ll work on t’at,” Marvin said hurriedly.

“In any case, it’s possible that the crystal ball won’t be able to show you visions frequently,” Aoife said. “Okay? So don’t put all your hopes on that, either.”

We’ll try, JJ said. But if we do want to see a vision, Marvin has to do it first?

“Seems like it. But really.” Aoife brought her phone close to her face and narrowed her eyes. “Try not to worry. It’s not good for you, JJ.”

JJ laughed. I’ll try. I’ll talk to you again some other time, okay?

“Okay.” Aoife leaned back again. “Goodbye, then.”

Goodbye. And with that, JJ ended the call.

———————

Schneep’s eyes were really starting to hurt. He’d been doing nothing but stare at a computer screen ever since they decided to focus their efforts on finding Jackie. Had he... gone to sleep last night? He couldn’t remember. And honestly, he didn’t feel too worse for wear if he didn’t. That scared him a little. Sure, it was helpful, but he didn’t ask for that.

He would have taken the chance to be immune to Distorter’s tricks if it was offered. But it was not offered.

“Hör auf darüber nachzudenken,” he muttered to himself. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. But he couldn’t help it. How could he not think about it?

By continuing to look through IRIS’s files. That’s how.

He lied to himself earlier when he said he’d done nothing but stare at the computer screen. In truth, he snuck up north yesterday to try and download more of IRIS’s database. He got some. Would it be enough? Would it be...

...

Yes. It was enough.

Schneep reread what he’d found over and over again. This was up to date, right? It was accurate, right?

Yes. Yes!

He had to call the others. He had to talk to them. Who first? Hah. He wondered that, but there was only really one option. And so he picked up his phone and dialed Rama’s number.

It rang for a long time before the other end picked up. “Who is this?” Rama asked.

Right. He’d gotten another new phone. “Rama? It is me, Henrik,” he said. “I found him.”

Rama’s attitude instantly shifted. “You did?! Where? Where is Jackie?!”

“He is stationed at an IRIS facility east of Mirygale,” Schneep said quietly. “It was converted from an old prison, like the one to the north. Recently, yes, too. I have the coordinates. For, ah, ah... for the GPS. I mean.”

“Can you text them to me?”

“Now? Yes, hold onto your... hat.” Schneep pulled the phone away from his ear and sent a text to Rama, making sure to carefully copy down the coordinates on his computer screen. “There. Did you get that?”

A moment of silence. “Yes, I did.”

“Good. We must act as soon as possible. We must act to find him and, ahhh... get him out of there. Or, stop him? He’s doing nothing, I’m sure, but IRIS has goals, and they might be... something he is helping with... not knowingly.”

“Henrik? Are you... okay?” Rama asked, sounding concerned.

“What are you meaning? Of course I am.”

“You sound, uh... really fucking weird.”

“Am I? I mean, do I?” Schneep leaned back in his chair and stared at the motel ceiling. “I do not feel weird.”

“Well, maybe you do but you don’t realize it. How much sleep did you get last night?”

He didn’t remember. “I’m sure it was enough, I feel full of energy.”

“Yeah, ‘I’m sure it was enough’ is not how well-rested people respond to that question. Take a moment to actually look at yourself.”

“In the mirror?” Schneep asked, and giggled.

“I meant metaphorically,” Rama said seriously. “Look inward. Think about how you feel. You may think you’re full of energy, but that could just be your body running on adrenaline.”

“I don’t want to look inward, there are things there now,” Schneep whispered. “The Distorter was here. I saw him when he did not want me to. It’s because there are things there now. I have a scar on... I have them all over.”

“Henrik,” Rama said softly.

“This is not the time. We have to go get Jackie.” Schneep stood up, stumbling for a moment before something in his legs naturally corrected him. No, wait. That was just him. He did that. By himself. “I will be right where you want to meet me, and I will be there right away.”

“We can’t go get Jackie right away,” Rama said, pain in their voice. “I fucking want to, but... but apparently the IRIS facilities have themselves some strange shield around them that makes it impossible for you to see anything even when you know it’s there. Last time, when they went looking for Anti, JJ had to get a lot of other magicians to help him break that shield. So even if we go there, we can’t do anything.”

“I don’t want to do nothing.” Why did his eyes feel wet? Why did they feel... weak? He’d thought about this recently, he wondered if they were a different shade of blue. Or maybe only one? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to look into the mirror to check for sure. “I-I don’t want to do nothing,” he said again, voice breaking.

“You won’t be doing nothing. Waiting isn’t nothing.” Rama was clearly trying to reassure him, but he didn’t think it was working.

“I wait for everything,” Schneep muttered. He stood in the center of the room, one arm dangling loosely as the other pressed the phone close to his face. “I waited for so much. I wait, I wait, I wait, the only thing there was the worry, the... more than worry, the... Furcht. I cannot remember what the word is. But it was just me and it, and the wait, the wait, the wait for them to come... And then when the wait is over they take you back and it starts again, and you look at yourself, and you think... you think there is something in there that was not before... I was asleep. I was asleep. Except for the mistake. I was asleep. But I knew even before the mistake...”

“Henrik!” Rama’s shout snapped Schneep out of whatever trance he’d just slipped into. “You need to rest.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” Schneep’s own voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure Rama could hear him. “Even if it was better than the mistake where I was not. I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“You have to try. You cannot function without it. As I can tell just over the phone.” Rama paused. “Nothing... nothing will happen to you, okay? There won’t be anything new when you wake up.”

“...do you promise?” Schneep hated that he just asked that. Like a child looking to their parents for reassurance that there was nothing in the closet. But he... he had to. He had to have that reassurance, real or imagined.

“I promise,” Rama said. “And when we break through IRIS’s shield, I will call you to tell you. And then we can go get Jackie. Okay?”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Rama. I am sorry I’m being so... foolish.”

“You’re the least foolish person I know, Henrik.”

“...Thank you,” Schneep said again, and hung up.

So maybe he did still need sleep. And as he laid down on the bed and drifted off, that fact brought him a strange comfort.

———————

Do you think we could try tonight?

Tonight? I guess we could call an urgent meeting like we did last time. Are you sure tho? Thats really soon.

Yes. I’m sure.

“So you’ll be tryin’ t’at same spell with the Circle now, t’en?” Marvin asked, looking over at JJ in the entrance hall from his spot in the living room.

JJ nodded. I really don’t think we should waste any time.

“Because of the crystal ball visions?”

No, but they certainly didn’t help, JJ said. Will you be okay with me gone? If I recall, last time you were home alone while I was out at this, you left the house late at night on sketchy instructions from Schneep.

“I did, but t’at’s how I got my cards bask, isn’ it?” Marvin shuffled said cards on his lap. Mr. Flufflington, lying on the sofa nearby, suddenly raised his head in surprise at the shuffle sound. “Oh, sorry, Mister. Didn’ mean to wake you up. Anyway, don’ worry about me, Jems, I’m not plannin’ on goin’ anywhere.”

You weren’t planning on going anywhere last time, either, JJ pointed out.

“Well, I’m even less so now.”

JJ stared at him for a moment, then nodded. I’ll be back late again. Don’t wait for me.

“Good night, t’en. And good luck.”

Good night. JJ said that, then left, the front door locking behind him.

Well, with Marvin alone he had to figure out how to spend the rest of the night. Normally he’d read a book and then head to bed... but after earlier, he wanted to look at his cards some more. He was trying to form new patterns with them, balancing a tray across his wheelchair arms for a flat surface.

The two unknowns were bothering him. The jokers. He didn’t know why he had this nagging feeling that they were important. Was it simply because they didn’t know what their symbols meant?

Curious, he separated the two of them from the rest, lying them face-down on the tray so he could examine the runes on the back. An angled spiral with an X over it. That was a much more complicated symbol than any of the others. Did that mean it was powerful? The higher-value cards did seem to have broader concepts—and maybe more powerful runes. Jokers were wild. They could be anything. That was a sort of power.

What would happen if he tried to make a pattern with them?

Marvin debated that for a second, and then decided that nothing ventured, nothing gained. All of the successful patterns he’d found so far had needed at least one of the aces, so he grabbed the Ace of Hearts, with its rune meaning “mark” or “creation.” He placed it in between the two jokers, trying to find an arrangement where the lines on the back designs of the cards matched up. But nothing worked. Maybe he needed more cards?

He searched through the deck and found the King of Hearts. The rune on its back meant, funny enough, “heart” or “life.” Then he grabbed the Five of Hearts (“leaf” or “growth”) as well, because why not make this a heart suit party? Idly, he started messing with the five cards, shifting their positions relative to the others, bending close over—

Marvin screamed. His leg—his broken leg, it—it hurt again! “Fuck!” It was piercing, burning, sharp pain—

Instinctively, he swept a hand over the five cards, dislodging the formation they’d been in. And the pain instantly stopped. He sat there, breathing, for a moment, getting over the sudden agony and its even more sudden disappearance. Then, tentatively, he reached down and gently prodded the injury. It didn’t feel like it had rebroken. Good. Good.

“What the fucking hell was that about?” Marvin asked himself. He looked down at the cards. What pattern had they been in...? Right. The two jokers vertical on either side, with the other three horizontal and stacked on top of each other. Though he was morbidly curious to try it again, he resisted; he didn’t really feel like experiencing his leg breaking all over again. That wasn’t what happened, of course... but it certainly felt like it.

And though that probably should have warned him off from experimenting with his cards for the night, it didn’t. He merely put the jokers to the side once more and resumed. Their angled spirals seemed to shift in the corner of his eyes. Getting smaller and bigger, closing and opening.

———————

Schneep was awoken by a ringing sound. He started up, panic rushing into his heart—then realized it was his phone. Quickly he reached over to the nightstand and picked it up to check the caller ID. It was Rama again. So soon?

Wait... it wasn’t soon at all. The clock on the nightstand read 7:01... am, not pm. And there was early gray sunlight coming through the curtains. And his stomach was rumbling. When was the last time he’d eaten something?

The phone was still ringing. Sitting up, Schneep answered the call. “Hello?”

“Henrik? It’s Rama. Good morning.”

“It is morning, isn’t it?” he muttered, then laughed. “I have been asleep since you last called me.”

“Good,” they said firmly, sincerely. “It sounded like you needed it.”

“I did, I did.” Schneep nodded. “But to serious business. I can only guess you’re calling me because of Jackie.”

“Yes. Jameson and his magicians did that same spell, they found a second IRIS facility right where you said it would be. Well, it was a bit complicated, we had to actually drive out to the location first and that took a while—but after all that, it was there. We are planning on going there today. In only a couple hours if possible.”

“Good.” Schneep nodded. “Give me time to get ready and eat something.”

“You’re coming?!” Rama didn’t bother to hide their surprise. “But... your history...”

“I know,” Schneep said quietly. “But that is why I must go with you. Together we can provide Jackie with enough reasons to see sense. You can tell him why it was such a bad idea to leave... and I can tell him what IRIS is truly doing.”

Rama was silent for a moment. Then they sighed. “It’s up to you. What time would be okay with you? Nine o’clock?”

“That sounds good. Let’s meet at the park again. Will it be just the two of us?”

“No, Jameson is coming too.”

“Not Marvin, though?” Strange, Schneep would’ve thought Marvin would insist on coming even with a broken leg.

“No, he said he wanted to work on things with those magick cards of his. As for Jack and Stacy, well, Jack says someone should stay behind with Anti in case there are any developments. And Stacy has work again. She really wants to help, though. But I do not think this moment is her calling, you know?”

“I understand.” Schneep took a deep breath and stood up. “Nine o’clock at the park. I will see you there. We will finish this.”

“We will finish this,” Rama agreed. “See you then.” And they hung up.

Schneep lowered the phone. His hands were shaking. But he would do this. He would go get Jackie back.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau

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graftisms · 2 years ago

Text

CALLIE & ANGEL — DAY THIRTY-FIVE

location : early evening / dressing room

featuring : @dobits

ANGEL

immediately post evie date, angel had beelined to callie, smacked a soppy kiss to her cheek and handed over the little blue flower he'd very discreetly and possibly illegally picked for her from old town. it'd sat on the crook of his ear the whole car ride home until he was able to press it into her hand. a goofy and probably unnecessary gesture since she maintained how chill she was about the whole thing, but angel felt like he should do something to affirm all the promises he'd made to her the day before. i'm focused on you. my head isn't gonna turn. doesn't matter who walks through the doors. nothing's really changed.

except angel's knees are bouncing under the vanity. it's more than likely due to the fact that he'd had suspiciously limited time to fill callie in on the events of the date. he'd gotten to most of it: she's super sweet, you're gonna love her, got the idea she was gonna chat to pretty much everybody. it was admittedly brief and surface level and he'd barely gotten to the stuff he wanted to inform her of, let alone the stuff he still kinda wanted to avoid. since then he'd done a beach hut, met eden, tended to jenny's insecurities, and not a whole lot else. late afternoon is giving way to the evening and he'd finally gotten callie quasi-alone in the dressing room as people start filing in to the shower queue and it just feels like there's some stuff he's still missing. namely - gossip. "so, what do you think about the new girls?" he shoots callie a sidelong grin, hands busy picking through presumably adela's shit in search of ye old lost hair tie. "i thought eden was funny as fuck."

CALLIE

while it isn't lost on callie how little she's heard about the infamous angel-and-evie date, she's made it a point so far not to ask. she's not interested in being one of those girls, the kind that needs to hear about every little detail to feel some sense of security. she's secure enough in the relationship without asking for it, any mild anxiety she had during the waiting period today quelled when she saw his goofy smile again. but it doesn't change the fact that she does want to know, not because she's afraid of what he'll say, but because she wants to understand more of where the bombshells' head is at. evie had been sweet when they had met, disarmingly easy to talk to, but the lack of talk about angel had been awkward elephant in the room even when she was trying to make it not. they hadn't much time to talk earlier, but now seated in the dressing room as she does her makeup, part of her is hoping it comes up. but if last night was any indicator, angel's not very good at offering up what she wants to hear. "i caught up with eden this morning, which was nice! she remembered me," she smiles at her reflection in the mirror. either last night or earlier today she had definitely let it slip that she's met her before. "her dates went well, which i'm not surprised. she's so easy to get along with." a brief pause. "evie seems nice, too. i talked to her earlier. it's just so nice to have girls from home." even evie's accent is a warm memory of home. "i hope her date with charlene went well, she could use a win. did she mention her or anyone else on your date?" she says date like a high schooler would, sing-songy and how she's been saying it all day to him.

ANGEL

"oh my god, you have no fucking idea how hard it was not to tell her i used to watch her dad all the time when i was a kid." probably exactly no one is shocked to learn angel was an animal planet kinda guy. "yo, you gotta secure us a meet and greet before we leave." hair tie finally secured from the depths of a makeup bag, angel shakes off the stray hairs before sweeping all of his own locks onto the top of his head. it creates a much needed funnel for his focus as the conversation turns predictably to evie. "yeah, she definitely gives me charlene vibes, like i was sayin'." big grin magnetizes back to callie, warmed by how genuinely unbothered she seems. the trust it implies puts his heart on a fast two beat with a crash on the cymbal. "uh, yeah, everybody?" angel laughs, hearty and genuine. "i think she's just seeing who all she vibes with. like, she looked me straight in the eye and said i wanna get to the know the twins. i'm like -- the twins? not my twins." brow furrows down, mouth parting, hammed up and scandalized. lasts only a fleeting moment before he's chuckling again. "yeah, i dunno, she's bold low key. she didn't say anything to you? like, about the date or whatever?"

CALLIE

"you totally should've, she would love to hear it i'm sure. i'm impressed you even know who her dad is. charlene had no idea," she huffs out a small laugh, trying to concentrate on her mascara. there's a lightness to this moment that callie hadn't felt yet today, no doubt with the lack of him around. any doubts of making the wrong choice in bringing him back safely went out the winner when she got a brief glimpse of what it'd like to be here without him. "she's a sydney native, did i say that? maybe she'll last long enough for family day, that'd be sick." her and eden are getting on like old friends, but that doesn't mean she's about to ask to meet her famous father. everyone is such a cop-out answer that it makes callie snort, glad she got it out of her system before he mentions her and dylan. "yeah, she mentioned to me she was interested in dylan a little, but that he seems pretty closed off, which, yeah. she's definitely not interested in me, though." that felt perfectly clear in their conversation, because if there's one thing callie is good at picking up on, it's when a pretty girl is interested in her. but she's not pressed, considering the feeling is mutual, even if evie is very pretty. "bold, yeah?" that is not the vibe she got from evie, who didn't even wanna mention angel at all. putting her mascara down, she steals a peak over at him. "no, i got the feeling she didn't want to talk about it with me," she admits, lips twisting a bit. "why, did she try to stick it on you?" she jokes, but that nosiness is back, with a vengeance.

ANGEL

“yeah, they used to always be on early as shit before school. so tite.” his attention is sat squarely on callie now, turned sideways on the chair and watching her with his chin propped up in his hand. “oh my god, family day,” angel hypes, reaching forward to squeeze her thigh. “why am i kinda more excited to see her dad than mine?” purely a joke, even saying the words make his head buzz from excitement at the idea of seeing his old man here, although they’d more than likely send in his sister or something. he takes a second to imagine what it’d be like to meet callie’s grandparents in a place like this, warms to it just in time for conversational whiplash. a half smile plucks one side of his mouth, head shrugging. “yeah, little bit. just that silly love island flirty shit, y’know? mostly it was just, like, an interview. learning about her life and stuff. it was chill. i just wanted to come back and talk shit with you about it.” there’s a pause as angel casts his gaze over the dressing room, thoughtful and considering. “yeah, i mean, she said one kinda weird thing, but i don’t want you to take it like drama. it was just, like, bombshell stuff, y’know, about you and frankie. said she said it to, like, explain why she wants to get to know me. ‘cause frankie’s supposedly your first choice or whatever.”

CALLIE

she glances up at his gaze heavy on her, a smile heavy on her pursed lips before asking, "what?" family day feels like so far away and yet so close by, not something she can genuinely think about without her chest tightening from how badly she misses her family. "no, same," she laughs, shaking her head. "do you think he'd actually come? that i'll ask." that seems safe enough, and she'd hope eden would know she's more than just some fangirl. newly mascara'd eyes blink in mild surprise when he actually says yes to her question, although she instantly knows she shouldn't be. what comes next, however, is completely different, stomach churning at the mention of her ex that she anticipated as soon as angel said weird. it feels like such a blatant attack against her that the whiplash between that and the girl she just spoke to earlier tonight stings, teeth digging into the inside of her mouth for a beat. how is she not supposed to take that as drama? "yeah?" she asks, but her voice no longer sounds as light as casual as before, instead a little hollow. "and what did you say to that?"

ANGEL

"wow, you and eden really are besties, huh?" he teases, brow ticking up at her. when callie mentioned she'd met the bombshell before, he imagined it was more in passing, just by association, but he makes the mental note to bug eden about it more, see what goofy anecdotes he can squeeze out of her. immediately angel can feel the mood shift and he feels the air deflate out of him. she doesn't say much, but that's almost worse 'cause he can see there's a whole bunch of emotions working behind her big brown eyes and she's refusing to tip any cards. "i mean, i didn't say much, except that, like, i already knew you and frankie had an intense relationship." he genuinely has no clue that that's not the part she means. "it wasn't, like, super fuckin' sick to hear it from somebody who's seen it all from the outside, but, i dunno, i got the impression she just thought she was lookin' out for me. so i was like, hey, you're chill, we'll get to know each other more. i don't think she was trying to be shady."

CALLIE

any friendly gossiping is immediately sucked out of the atmosphere with the black hole that is everything angel dumps on her, finding it more insane as he continues. throat feeling suddenly heavy, callie makes an effort to rummage through her makeup bag as if she's looking for something, when in reality she just can't get herself to look at him, or at her reflection in the mirror. both would show too much of how she's feeling right now, like the ground has been pulled out from under her from twenty feet in the air. she's not even sure why she didn't expect it at this point, getting let down by someone she trusts, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. for a good minute she doesn't speak, hoping in the silence he realizes how absolutely insane he sounds. but when nothing comes out, all she can do is slowly say, "alright." there's a bit of a laugh, too, because how the hell does she unpack that all? "is that what you think, then?" she asks after a beat, still focusing on her makeup bag. "that you're second to frankie for me?" she tries not to make it sound as absurd as it feels, but it's not easy. we'll get to know each other more. callie replays that in her head, shaking her head to herself. "alright, so you're gonna get to know her then," she reiterates his words, deadpan. "cool." giving him one more shot to let what he's saying actually sink in. "that's just... i don't even know where to begin with all you just said," she laughs again, a dark sound. makeup is going back in her bag, in case she wants to make a break for it.

ANGEL

“nah, no way,” angel answers thoughtfully, if not distractedly. he’s watching her avoid looking at him, all her movements seem jerky and unpredictable. he definitely fucked up somewhere in this conversation, though it’s taking him a minute to pinpoint it. angel was so preoccupied making sure he didn’t disrupt the vibes between then girls that he somehow became the instigator. “oh — cal, no,” is the sentiment he affords almost in tandem to understanding what exactly tripped her up. there’s a dip in between his brow, not nearly big enough to hold all the guilt he didn’t even realize he had. “okay, hold on a sec, can we just —,” he lets out a sigh and reaches out to set the curve of her jaw in his palm, imploring her attention, “just pause? please? can you just look at me, ‘cause i’m not trying to say i wanna graft this girl, okay? to be crystal clear.” how could it be even remotely a possibility? does she genuinely think he’s capable of that? “‘kay? i want us on the same page here. let’s talk about it.”

CALLIE

she doesn't have to look at him to know when it finally clicks into place for him, his own stupid words. angel touches her jaw and she's quick to push his hand away, too annoyed and hurt for the physical touch, but she does let herself finally look back at him with a slightly clenched jaw, trying to keep the emotion from growing in her eyes. "i want to be on the same page, too," she tells him, but there's a growing edge to her tone. "like, i know you're trying to play it off as it's nothing, but i'd love to know why some new girl comes in who clearly likes you and starts throwing doubts at you about our relationship, and all you can respond is, 'hey, you're chill, we can keep getting to know each other.' because not only did you just give her the green light to think she can graft you, but you... why didn't you stick up for me?" her lips puff out a bit, feeling pathetic even having to ask. "unless you actually feel like she was right--she doesn't know our relationship, angel. hell, she doesn't even know frankie and i, past whatever was on tv. and it really fucking hurts my feelings that she did that, and you don't even seem to care." it's like him trying to befriend frankie when callie was still deeply hurt by the way things ended between them. she knows he's the type to be friends with everyone, but there has to be some exceptions.

ANGEL

it’s not like she didn’t explicitly warn him about this. that she’d been beat down by disappointing relationships and she was officially done taking any perceived hits. he’d just expected that she’d know him well enough by now that he wouldn’t play games and he definitely wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt her. but it all feels very life and death with callie, pretty hot or extremely cold. “i’m not… i’m not trying to play it off,” angel defends quietly, a seemingly important amendment as he takes in everything else she’s saying. his touch effectively blocked, angel folds them in his lap, chin tucked. “no, i don’t feel like she was right, but — like, you gotta understand, the shit she said is, like, so fresh and the biggest insecurity i have about us. and i know that’s irrational and you reassured me, like, a thousand times and i believe you, but it’s just, like, the quiet part of your brain that’s tellin’ you all the shit you really don’t wanna hear, y’know? and it totally threw me for a second, i just didn’t know how to handle it and, yeah, you’re right. that’s on me. i should’ve argued it more.” it’s hard to defend just by virtue of the fact that, to angel, it all seemed casual, maybe even silly in it’s innate love islandness, so the all-encompassing doom of callie’s reaction blindsides him as much as it breaks his heart. “but i didn’t think she was right, callie. i thought it was bizarre that someone could look at us and decide we weren’t gonna work. i don’t care if she grafts me ‘cause she was never even an option to me. even if you walk outta this room saying you’re gonna keep your options open, i’m still only here for you. i’d fight seb and charlene a million times for you. you’re the only thing i want in here.” eyes flicker over her face, brow knit. “do you believe me?”

CALLIE

she won't argue, but the fact of the matter is that angel is trying to play all of this off as not drama, as if someone she barely knows telling the guy she's falling for that callie doesn't even see him as a first choice is no biggie. to him it might be no biggie, maybe—until he brings up his insecurities about frankie, which makes her want to laugh and cry at the same time. it always comes back to frankie. it's not like she's not sympathetic to his insecurities, and when the blonde is brought up as often as she is in the middle of their relationship, callie can understand why he feels that way. but hadn't he been the one that assured her that he would be fine with the drama that came from her bringing him back to the villa? it's not like she hadn't warned him, or haven't put him first since their first kiss in casa. "i get that it's irrational, but... i don't know what else i can do, if the frankie stuff really upsets you so much," she runs her fingers through her hair, looking at him anxiously. "i was coupled with her for two days. she doesn't know anything about my last relationship, or my mum, or most of the shit that i've told you. i can't... if this is something that's going to get in the way of us, tell me now," she asks, dark eyes meeting his. everything he's saying is melting some of her annoyance away—because the way he had said it earlier, she did think he was implying getting to know evie—but after talking about it last night, it's hard not to think about his last relationship. she doesn't want him to resent her about frankie the way he resented his ex. "because i really bloody like you, and i don't think i can do this place without you." she wouldn't want to, either. "but i don't want to move too fast if you can't get past frankie, or if you have any interest in getting to know evie or anyone else. i don't want to have to watch her graft you. i don't wanna share you." not the first time she's said it, but this time it's not in vain.

ANGEL

the rake of her anxiety-ridden fingers puts one of her curls out of order with the rest and angel reaches out a passive, impulsive hand to brush it back into place. "look, i'm not gonna lie to you, it's for sure something that kinda bumps up in the back of my mind sometimes. like, when she defended you to seb or during the challenge or, y'know, when a bombshell brings it up on our date...," tone is glib and deadpanned, head inclining, realizing now how suspicious it kinda is. "it's like... god, what do they call it? when you think the thing you know you shouldn't? like, the crazy thought? -- intrusive!" thinking about frankie and callie getting back together definitely feels like spontaneously deciding to drive into oncoming traffic. chin lowers, his eyes set on her like he's trying to impress upon her how definitive his answer is. "but it's not gonna get in the way of us." maybe it'll exist there sometimes, once in awhile, in a vague impulse he'll just let pass, but it's through no fault of her own. and it certainly doesn't disparage the bond they're forging for themselves, especially when she points out all the things she's shared solely with him, a fact that admittedly does fuel a sense of renewed confidence. it's what he'd wanted when he'd brought up the whole thing in the first place and it's not unlike what follows, a string of sentiments he wants to hang like twinkle lights on his windowsill. it feels vulnerable, especially for callie, and he doesn't think twice about slinging his arms around her middle, pulling her off the vanity stool and into his lap. "never gonna happen," angel promises. "i told you before i wanna go where you go, that hasn't changed for me." if anything, it's no longer a want, but a requirement. "'cause trust me when i say i like you more and, more than that, i totally don't give a shit about moving too fast." he shows her a flash of a grin at that, waits 'til it melts off to add, "it's you and me, 'kay?"

CALLIE

she swallows down any lingering doubts about his frankie complex, no longer as on edge as she had felt minutes ago. if there's one thing that she appreciates about angel, it's the way he manages to calm her down with a few words, keeping her grounded when the villa makes her feel like she's somebody else entirely. for someone who can't seem to see past her previous coupling, angel speaks about the two of them with such decisiveness that it's hard not to take everything at face value. she wants to, but if angel's intrusive thoughts are about frankie, then callie's are about waiting for the other shoe to drop. after all, him having no interest in evie doesn't really erase from the fact that the bombshell is lining up to be angel's second choice—not unlike the second choice she claimed that angel was for callie. but it's hard to think about anyone else when he's pulling her onto his lap, arms linking around his neck as she curls into him. if they can just make it to the end of this, callie knows that they could be smooth sailing in the real world. it's so close, she can taste it. with a small nod, she takes his chin in her hands to press a kiss to his lips. somehow it feels like enough of a response to how she's feeling, but if not, she adds a decisive, "you know i trust you," to the end of it. it's not until her head is resting against his chest for a few heartbeats that she adds, "you're gonna have to tell her you're not interested, though. you can't tell someone you want to keep getting to know her after she takes you on a date and badmouths your girl without letting her think she has a shot." it's matter-of-fact, but the badmouthing comment does stir some residual hostility, callie can't help it. "she should focus on charlene, anyway." someone great who actually is open to getting to know other people.

ANGEL

at the very least angel was bracing himself to be in the dog house (and maybe he still is), but at most he was genuinely concerned that this would be the part where callie pushes him away. it’s his expectation that he wouldn’t let that happen, but it’s thankfully a pointless consideration because her kiss feels like reconciliation, easy and wordless and affirming. he hopes her words ring as true as that kiss feels, ‘cause it seems like there’s an implication of mistrust. that he should think twice about what he says to evie before he lets it spring easily from his mouth like every other thing. “— you mean you aren’t gonna tell her for me?” a joke, just a prod at the high school imagery it kinda paints, two girls fighting over some dude who definitely isn’t worth it. a cheshire smirk curls at his lips, pressed up against her forehead. “my girl, huh?” he teases lowly. “say it again.” considering how resolute callie is about not going too fast, angel simply can’t help celebrating each little win with annoying fanfare. a sigh melts all the playfulness away, grows more serious as he nods. “yeah, i’ll talk to her about it tomorrow… are you gonna talk to her?” he wonders, was genuine when he said he didn’t wanna mess with the vibe between the girls. after all, bombshells are gonna bombshell. “like, about all that?”

CALLIE

she makes a show of laughing without a lick of humor, before exchanging a look his way. but of course she knows he's joking, and it's hard to take it very seriously anyway, when his repeat of her words makes her lips twitch into a fighting smile. if there's one thing callie's never been good at with dating, it's the casualness that comes before a fully defined relationship. there's a reason none of her relationships before her big ex lasted long enough to call themselves a real relationship, either letting herself jump in too quickly, or get lost in the silly rules of dating: wait a few hours before replying, don't put out until at least the third date to be taken seriously, etc etc. every friend of hers had a different rule that she'd eventually come to break anyway. love island is without its rules too, most of them practiced religiously rather than discussed: exclusive doesn't mean boyfriend/girlfriend, leave your options open before immediately jumping into anything. but she's never been good at rules, and maybe it's because of the speed at which they're moving (despite her constantly trying to bring up that they're moving pretty fast), but she's already starting to view him as her boyfriend. for now she just kisses him instead of actually saying it again, although when she pulls away, she does admit, "i really missed you today, you know. it was really weird without you." codependent much? at least she's self-aware. callie's glad he doesn't argue with her about it, though his question has her making a face. "i don't know," she admits, truthfully. "maybe eventually, but i wouldn't even know what to say. i'm just annoyed, because we had a really nice chat earlier today, so hearing her saying all this about me... i was hoping we could be friends." but even if they get there, it'll take a minute for the sting of the deceitfulness to wear off.

ANGEL

“yeah?” a big smile holds up the apples of his cheeks, eyes crinkle at the edges. “you were playin’ it so cool, i wasn’t totally sure. was hoping you’d be missing me.” there’s a particularly juvenile part of angel that kinda wanted callie to be a little jealous, but only innocently. not remotely to hurt her feelings, but just enough to prove he meant something real to her. “i missed you, being out there isn’t even worth it without you. like how you were at the market, all excited and giggly.” the memory makes him laugh warmly, fingers splaying over the fabric of the dress stretched over her thigh. watching callie enjoy herself like she was when they were on their date had made him feel a distinct sense of pride, it made him feel good. it could probably be a link to the utter lack of thought he’s giving to the speed of their growing relationship. if it feels so good, why overthink it? why try and smother it? especially on a day like this, where their bond’s tested so directly. with frankie (and now evie) in the rear view, it’s easy to show callie each and every one of his cards. “mhm,” angel acknowledges, head bobbing. “that is super weird.” it doesn’t feel particularly natural to disparage who he feels is a new friend, but validating callie outweighs politeness. “yeah, maybe just let it lie, y’know? i’ll handle it tomorrow and then we can do our thing,” he says with a smile. breakfast, swimming, listening to their friends talk about themselves. it occurs to him to plan that date he’d promised, too. “but i’m sure things’ll blow over with evie. shit moves fast.”

CALLIE

"i mean, i told you last night that you were gonna go on a date, so i knew it was coming. and, like, no offense to evie, but i didn't think i had any reason to stress. but i don't know," she slides her hand down his neck softly, "i didn't expect to be so bored without you. or for it to take so bloody long. what, were you aging the wine and everything?" she makes a face, but the spark in her eyes is playful. maybe she should be jealous him and evie got a much more romantic date than the two of them did, but callie likes thinking back to their shopping trip, something about how silly and normal it was meaning more to her than anything fancy. "i was not giggly about grocery shopping," she argues, nipping his bottom lip before stealing a kiss. "mmm, but how was town? was it cute? were you by the water?" it still blows her mind that she's been here for nearly a month and still barely knows anything about the island. there's something about him calling it super weird that makes her roll her eyes, because he's acting like evie's actions are shocking, as if it's not super easy for her to see through. "i'm not stressed," she shakes her head, because she's not. annoyed, maybe, and a little hurt that someone who doesn't know her would speak so poorly about her to the person who matters most here. but callie doesn't need to be friends with everyone here.

ANGEL

there’s something so bittersweet about the imagery her words conjure up. there was angel, sitting at the date drinking up the wine and evie’s doubts while callie sat here missing him. it casts a shadow of guilt that quickly gives way to sunny resolution. there’s no way he’ll let himself second guess her again, she deserves better than that. “you’re so much better than me,” he tells her, repressing a smirk. “whenever you get called to a date i’m not waiting around here. i’m gonna, like, hitch a ride on the underside of the car. cape fear vibes.” though joking, it would be fair to estimate that angel’s jealousy probably outweighs her’s. the kiss he meets her with is loud, smacks, and is followed by another on her cheek, then her jaw. “you were so giggly, it made me so happy.” a chuckle rumbles in his chest, pulling back to look at her. “do you think i’d let them take me to the water without you? nah, could see some peeks of it around the buildings. it was super fucking cool, gonna be dope to go explore once we get out.” he nods, satisfied, and uses his fingers to push some curls off her cheek. “good. did anything fun happen in here while i was gone?”

CALLIE

"oh please," she scoffs, shaking her head. "i doubt you'll have to worry about that, anyway. there can't be many more bombshells coming in, and i probably won't be high on their priority list." especially knowing what evie's said about her, callie's beginning to doubt how great her edit's been, with all the frankie drama. "which is fine by me. i'm all dated out," she adds, with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. not like she hasn't been on... four? dates already. "i was not." her argument might be stronger if she wasn't laughing anyway, girlish and warm. how anyone could think their relationship is insincere is beyond her, when callie constantly feels like they're acting like the grosses couple in the world. not that anyone can be surprised, since they had talked back in casa about how they wanted to be with someone they were proper obsessed with. "god, i can't wait," she groans. part of her is ready for that part already, for the show to be over--at least in terms of being able to do their own thing, and getting to leave whenever they want. "you have to swear to me that we'll do some exploring before heading home. i feel like when the time comes i'm gonna wanna immediately be home, but i'll regret it if we don't check out the island for a few days." a lot is contingent on these plans--them getting booted from the show at the same time, for one thing--but harping on the details is how anyone can go mad. they'll cross that bridge when they get there. "no, i wasn't kidding when i said i was bored. i tried to nap, but my body wouldn't even let me. basically just the usual."

ANGEL

"i dunno, apparently we don't look married off enough," he tells her, tone laden with playful sarcasm. it feels like a joke anyway with her all scooped up in his lap, trading kisses like they're cringy high schoolers fooling around in a booth at mcdonalds. but there's nothing really to prove anymore, to anybody else or each other. "should we sleep on the terrace again?" he bites into the grin that threatens to split his features, only half-joking. actually, it'd be a very real consideration if there weren't so much speculation circling the production's walkies regarding the weather. head bobs, agreeing with every last bit of that sentiment. "i know, it's gonna be hard not to just go the fuck home. i'm all for coolin' out here for a bit though, i'm so gonna be there for your first surf sesh back." there's a thoughtful pause as he pictures it, indulges in the fantasy for a moment before the plot carries on and he's faced with reality and the question of what comes next. "so... you think then, like, you'd go home and i'd go home and we'd just meet up after we check in with everyone?" it's logistics that definitely don't need to be talked about now, but it is a curious thought. his lips press together, not entirely in love with the idea of splitting up after everything. maybe they'll need the space, but he imagines it would be more fun to stick together. "then we'll do real vacation?"

CALLIE

"well that's too bad," callie snorts. "i don't think we could be more obnoxious even if we tried." she already feels pretty fucking obnoxious right now, but she can't be arsed to care. callie likes being in a relationship with a strong physical touch, and after last night and the absence of him this afternoon, it's especially hard to keep her hands off of him. "would you do it again?" his offer makes her grin, not sure if he had really enjoyed the actual sleeping part of it, considering the ground isn't exactly the comfiest. "i totally would, if it wasn't apparently going to rain tonight." which isn't the end of the world—and callie's back will probably appreciate being back in a bed—but she did like the privacy. she's about to start praying to the love island gods for their time in the hideaway. "you can surf with me!" she realizes as soon as he says it, eyes lighting up at the thought. "i'll be sure to go easy on ya. i'll probably have to, since i'll be rusty as fuck." she's already dreading getting her ass back into training mode, even if it's just to build up her stamina to the way it had been. "oh, i... guess so?" lips press together as callie considers it. despite making casual plans here and there for the future, she's never been much of a planner, so the idea of how it's going to work after filming does throw her for a bit of a loop. "or we could take turns, go to australia first, then cali. or the other way around," callie shrugs. "whatever works. definitely a real vacation at some point, and you'll have to see sydney for yourself at some point." it's a gnarly long distance from LA to sydney, but while callie's started to come to terms with the idea of moving back to california, it feels too soon to talk about it.

ANGEL

brows furrow thoughtfully, makes a show of pretending to consider that. “mm, yeah, we should still try.” after all, by love island standards, he can’t imagine they’re the worst of the worst. more than that, angel is officially releasing the negative energy that comes with overthinking. from being wary of frankie to moving at a reasonable pace with callie, he’s keen to say fuck it and just enjoy what they have. “cal, i’d build us a bed frame out there if that’s what it takes.” he grins back, shamelessly makes no bones about how much he enjoyed himself, even despite the aches in his back. brows tick up, part glib and part dare. “but no one’s paying attention to us in the bedroom, y’know.” historically it seems like no one’s paying attention to anybody except their couple. in fact it seems like sleeping outside only draws more attention. the excitement that electric sparks callie at the mere mention of surfing has him bubbling with laughter. “nah, i’m gonna wipeout and you’re gonna get the ick.” she amends and he presses his lips into a smirk, head cocking. “oh, yeah, you’re gonna have to brush off the cobwebs. maybe i’ll smoke you then.” as if 1. callie could be out-surfed and 2. she could bear to lose an all-out challenge.

fingers are distracted mapping out the fancy threads of her dress, angel’s gaze trained to the tanned skin stretching over the delicate bones of her décolletage. he doesn’t wanna look her dead in the eyes ‘cause he knows his will betray how thoroughly exhilarated he is by her off handed suggestion. “yeah, we could go to cali first? so i can check on things, maybe. the shop and everything. and then… yeah, definitely sydney right after. i really wanna see all your spots.” he’s ultra-cool, playfully mimicking her chill with a sprinkle of self-aware sarcasm. how can he possibly deny how ridiculous and nerve wracking and cool it is that he met her here, that they don’t want their time together to end. “oh, damn, are you wrists okay?” he asks suddenly, delicately picking up one of her hands to inspect it. he presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist, smiles sweetly against the pulse. “do they hurt? like, from how cuffed i got you?”

CALLIE

"can we?" she laughs, nudging him in the shoulder. "you can go ahead and keep trying." because she would argue that he's the more obnoxious one after the two, although she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it. it'd be easy to overthink a lot of their relationship—how fast it's been moving, how serious things feel when they talk about the future—but there's an ease about angel that makes it natural, as if they've known each other a lot longer than a week or so. it's reminiscent to the way she operates back home, moving through relationships and life at her own speed, without thinking twice about it. she'd once told angel that she gets infatuated in relationships very easily, and it's like he's trying to put her words to the test—and right now, she's certainly proving him right. "i mean, i know that." she makes a face anyway, to show how she feels about it. "but it's just... it reminds me of staying in hostels during traveling. it's not very... romantic, you know?" it's hard to get herself in the mood when she can hear someone else moaning from the next bed over, like they're all a part of some orgy. "i will not," she laughs, shaking her head, "pinky swear. but i'll still smoke you," callie adds with a confident smile, not wanting him to expect anything less. right now making plans for outside of the villa is so unserious, so while she doesn't particularly love the idea of being away from elvis longer than she has to, she nods in agreement anyway. "will everyone be cool with you coming back to work just to leave right away again?" she asks, more curious about the set-up of his job than anything. callie's never had a job so permanent, that she had to worry about leaving behind. eyebrows only have time to knit together briefly before he's kissing her wrists, the punchline making her scoff in glee. "shut up!" she gives him a light shove in the chest. "i'd be going to LA either way, okay. to see romi and bash and them. you're not special." cue the grin.

ANGEL

“oh, i’m gonna,” angel assures her with a cheeky grin. he’s got, like, little to no qualms about pda. in fact, the qualms aren’t qualms as much as they are preferences. he’s never understood the idea that any kinda intimacy is supposed to be a litmus test for the seriousness of a relationship, equates the desire for proximity and their traveling plans to texting a new fling to hangout on a friday, but end up chilling together all weekend just because it’s fun and they can. how else are you supposed to build a bond? “yeah, no, i feel that,” he admits with an understanding laugh. “it’s college vibes, for sure. i mean… the terrace is pretty nice. good to know it’s there.” angel doesn’t exactly see them having full blown sex on tv, definitely wouldn’t press for that, but the privacy aspect is a drop in the plus column above all. “can’t wait to see you surf. do you get all, like,” he tools his lineaments into a look of mad dog seriousness, “game face about it?” he can imagine it, but he can just as easily imagine a fat smile slapped on her face as long as she’s on a board. “uh, no,” angel laughs. “i mean, it’s, like, not ideal for me either. it’s my shit, y’know? my responsibility. but i’ve never taken a long, full on vacation like this. i earned, like, a month or two then i’ll be back on the grind.” once he goes back he’ll just have to make more plans before bailing again, but he’s sure he can work it out. hand grips the outside of her thigh, pulling her closer into his lap even as she pushes against his chest. “mhm, mhm,” he teases her, teeth biting into his smile. “like you wouldn’t stay with me and ride in my cars.” the reminder puts a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “oh my god, i cannot wait ‘til i get you driving some crazy little mazda. somethin’ that jumps when you touch the pedal, y’know?”

#callie & angel ;#callie ;#callie & angel 012

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sometimesanalice · 11 months ago

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Jordannn! Now I know you don't like fuss, but I am absolutely going to fuss for a moment. [enter fuss]

I've told you before and I'll tell you again that getting your reblog of Oh Christmas Tree (look I even linked The One!) like properly sent me in a full thrilled tizzy! I was too shy to really try and engage with anyone outside of reblogging fics and leaving comments, but I always admired the way you took the time to leave people such thoughtful and supportive comments and I remember thinking "oh I hope she sees this and likes it". And I nearly chucked my phone when I got the notification and read it! I thought I was one and done, but having someone whose work I loved reading telling me they enjoyed my own first attempt at writing for fun really encouraged me to try it again and see if I still had something worth writing! (the piano fic came next and then was shelved for Like I Can, but I was excited to learn I had more words and stories in me! so thank you for that!)

Your support on my very first fic and on every fic ever since has meant the world to me! And I'm so happy I get to call you a friend (on tumblr and off!) [end fuss]

now back to your previously scheduled program and pink trees for you:

Plus, you know that you can get Bradley to put it up for you- even though he hates the feeling of glitter on his hands- if you offer to make him an Old Fashioned in exchange. - this is such a cute detail! every time i’ve read this part i’ve always smiled- I just love a cheeky girl who knows how to get her way and a hunky aviator boyfriend who would do anything for her (with or without the bribe) including getting the herpes of the crafting world all over his big hands.

But because it was one of the many ways he showed you just how important you were to him, just how much he paid attention to you. // It was something you had only ever mentioned once in passing, but that’s who Bradley Bradshaw is. The type of man who goes above and beyond for the people he loves. - i reread the first part the other day and got butterflies again 🤭🤭 he was so sweet and thoughtful! like she said, she mentioned it once and he remembered!-- like there's a difference between listening and remembering! And that man is a REMEMBERER. He's soaking up all those details and making a mental rolodex. I think because he's lost so many important people in his life, that when he recognizes that someone matters to him, he wants to memorize and hold onto everything.

You would gladly never have a real tree again as long as it meant that Bradley got to be yours forever. - get the fuck OUTTE of here!!!-- miss ma'am would give up her pine tree scented candles too if that's what it takes!

And of course, there was also a copy of the house key dangling on a pretty pink velvet ribbon. - this part was for me wasn’t it 😉- HAPPY ACCIDENT BUT CLEARLY MEANT TO BE! (the way I SQUEALEDDDDD when I saw that pink tree you doodled on the package!) But also, like just a reminder of how similar we are! (that was some luxe ribbon! and I'm obsessed with it! omg should I use it to tie the bronco to my tree??? could you imagineeeeeee)

On the mantle of that fireplace were ivory knit stockings embroidered with your name and his - POTTERY BARN OR?!!?-- only the best for these festive babes! bradley even got to pick the embroidery font!

The two of you have been together for almost a year and a half, but the way Bradley kisses you still sets off butterflies in your stomach and makes your heart flutter. - well it’s also giving me them and i wanna scream?? and when she describes the kisses??? ‘there you are’ kisses was my fave-- them? as in Them Them?! ahhhh! But I'm still swooning over her different categories. She memorizes them the way that bradley memorizes the little things about her 💖

You’d even signed up early to try and get a spot in the queue and it still had kicked you out with empty hands. - LOVE this little detail! and that even 1000s of miles away, bradley still took care of things and had nat get them!-- he's such a man written by a woman (literally) BUT WE LOVE HIM FOR IT, lololol! I bet that their last Christmas was still on his mind and he was looking at all the local announcements and Travel San Diego accounts for inspiration on what to do this year. The man also had a PLAN.

You make a little squeal in delight as you throw your arms around his neck to hug him and he laughs. It’s the best sound in the world to you. - STOP!!!! i know she could feel the rumbles of laughter in his chest when she was hugging him- SO BIG SO BROAD SO WARM SO RUMBLY

In the Spring, he had built you a bunch of raised garden beds in the backyard for you to grow whatever you wanted. - LEAVE! NOW! this is so tender! but also i love how you take us through the year with the seasons!-- I was really excited to share a peek at what their year looked like together! like they're my holiday couple but I wanted to show them outside of Christmas (or their first halloween, lol). But also, this is vvvvvv much my most indulgent fic series (where's my garden beds built by a handsome man???) 👩🏻‍🌾

“You seemed to enjoy that Leprechaun Run you did with Jake and I saw that there was an Ugly Sweater Fun Run today and I signed us up, we have to be there in an hour.” “Bradley, you didn’t,” you say with a gasp, sitting up like you’ve been struck by lightning. - PLSSSSSSS this would also send my heart racing (derogatory)-- THIS IS NOT THE WAKE UP SHE LIKES TO HAVE. there's no running in december, only eggnog and peppermint flavoring and treats. He was almost a single man for Christmas, lol (but really if he had been serious she would have been like "well you better call Jake to make sure he's there on time to run with you, lol)

…to check out some of the decorated boats docked for the Parade of Lights. - i’m so impressed by all the research that went into this!-- you and I are research girlies!

They’d greeting him with that head nod that only men seem to exchange, like you got roped into this too, huh?, but what they didn’t know was that being there had been his idea. - absolute NERDDDDDDD i love him “mr raised beds i think my girlfriend smell like sunshine!”-- he is so smittennnnnnn! my girl likes flowers, we're going to play with flowers. and you KNOW he was so smug when he saw some of those other arrangements from the other men. the 1%!

By the end of class, he knows his ears are pink because of how much you’re showering him with praise and gushing over his arrangement. - PRAISE KINK???-- he's got the praise kink, she's got the competency kink, it's a match made in heaven!!

You slip your hand in his with a grin, “Virtue and Moir better watch out.” - don’t…don’t drag me back down that rabbit hole again-- just file it under: things I will never get over. THE CHOKEHOLD THEY HAD/HAVE ON ME (but also lets talk about the moulin rouge routine!)

And if you faked a couple wobbles so that he’d put his arm around you, it was worth the sacrifice of trying to look graceful. - it’s only weaponized incompetence if they other person doesn’t want to do it-- and we know how much this man is the physical touch as a love language type. he can't help himself if he's handsy. so he definitely doesn't mind in the least! plays into his hero complex too, haha

Your wrist had been killing you and you hated being the reason that Rooster’s leg hand been bouncing anxiously next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. - 🥺🥺-- directors cut: so this part is still a bit heavier than I wanted it to be, but I had written a whole bit where the parents of the jerk of a kid (who was definitely causing mayhem on PURPOSE) comes over to apologize (while their kid is still terrorizing others on the ice mind you) and she's like tryign to mollify the situation and bradley just is all tense and tight jawed. but it wasn't the vibe, but just know he was biting his tongue. so even though as it is it's not quite the fluffy whoopsie daisy i'd imagined, i do like how it reflects the first fic? like he's upset he "ruined christmas" and here she's just as upset she "ruined" their perfect day.

You’d gone with a white and pink stripped candy cane inspired look to match the tree, Bradley. - i can hear her saying this (also smart aleck 1000% would too)- it's the theme! it's the vibe! also when they watch the 2000 Grinch movie she points out the candy cane girls like she's one of them now.

(another director's cut: in the hubbub I think he totally forgot that Nat and Jake had set up the other two trees. like he was more concerned about her than his proposal plans. the other daggers stopped blowing up his phone around the time they arrived to the ice rink, not wanting to bother him knowing what he was planning to do when they got home afterwards. So as he's getting her up the stairs (she even notes that the glow seems brighter) he realizes that the trees are there and all lit up. His shoes are definitely still on when he "stubs" his toe after he drops some choice language, lol. And then he's like trying to hustle her up as quick as he can because he's not proposing while she's coming down off the twilight juice and there's no goo explanation for why theres now 3(!) pink trees in their living room. But I need to go back in and edit it to clear that up a bit, lol)

He’s already looking on his phone for other options, sitting on the bathroom floor next to you as you soak in the tub, when he feels your fingers thread through his hair and he leans into your touch. - oh my god this is DARLING!!!! 🤭🤭 i love this image so much and then she plays with his hair!!! and he plays with hers!!! it’s such a sweet mirror from part 1-- so when I was drafting I knew I wanted it to be a dual POV again like the first one, but I couldn't figure out what was needed to fill in his part for this last bit, but I loved the idea of it mirroring the first part. Of him sitting next to her, while she soaks (he's still the one getting his pretty hair pet, but they both like it, haha). Like they can't ease the pain or fix the past, but they can just BE with each other, and it's lovely and soft and domestic and 🥰

“But the instructor was so sweet, Roos. I told her that the dahlias were your mom’s favorites and then she went to the back and got me a bunch.” - i love how thoughtful and intentional both of them are with each other? they’re both definitely an acts of service couple and it’s sweet to see the parallels-- I think what I loved most about this was that in the moment while they were there, she didn't take the credit for making it happen? like she wanted them because she knew they'd matter to him, and that was enough? She didn't need the praise or thanks, she just wanted something nice for him. but then her loose lips let it slip and he puts it together himself?? and we love a girls supporting girls moment!

And there standing in front of them is Bradley, barefoot in his favorite sweatpants in your cozy living room of the home he’s made with you looking like a daydream. - OF THE HOME HE’S MADE WITH YOU!!!! get OUTTE this is so lovely! he is so lovely!!! and the fact that he’s barefoot actually is so sweet and soft!!!-- i want to live in this moment! (idk what it is about men barefoot padding around the house, but like IT GETS TO ME. like it's so oddly domestic to me?? idk how to explain it but it does something to my brainnnn)

You can almost see his heart that he is wearing on his sleeve. His pretty honey brown eyes are tracing over every inch of your face, almost like he is trying to commit every microcosm of your expression to memory. - STOP THIS!!!!! HE IS SO PRETTY AND SWEET AND EARNEST!!! HE WANTS TO SHARE AND LIFE WITH HER!! SHE MAKES HIM HAPPY WITH HER BIG HEART!!!-- did i tear up writing that proposal, yes. i admit it without shame. (now i have to go reread it, brb. anddddd i'm back) and you KNOW just the face he is wearing (it's a mix of good student bradley and final scene bradley)

You know the matching pair of diamond earrings that Bradley had gotten for you as your Christmas gift are shining just as bright. - oh HELLL yes-- HE IS SO CHEEKY FOR IT!! when he teases her about it he hadn't gotten them yet, he did it for the bit! but also because he already had the big diamond, he didn't need a payment plan or anything!

The marquise diamond had belonged to his mom, but he had had it reset in gold with a halo of diamonds around it for you. He’d even bought a pink velvet box to put it in for the occasion. - oh he’s PERFECT!!! that’s so coquette too i’m obsessed-- he likes a theme too! he knows the pantone color of the year!

also here it is:

Anywayyyssssssss, 💖💖💖💖💖💖 you!

Make You Mine This Season

Summary: It’s your second Christmas with Bradley and the holidays are always better with him by your side. After the perfect day out, you come home with a new accessory- just not the one you were hoping for.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: so much fluff and some allusions to smut and a cast that looks like a candy cane.

(Author’s Note: set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe, can be read on its own)

You can’t fight the smile on your face as you watch Bradley studiously stare at the Christmas tree with a delicate glass icicle ornament dangling from his long finger.

“I think it need to go a little to the left, Roos,” you say, watching the way the little golden thread attached to it gleams from the many strands of white lights he had spun around it earlier in the afternoon.

The contrast between your handsome Naval aviator boyfriend and the very large, very fluffy pink Christmas tree he had bought for you would never not thoroughly charm you.

“Here?” he asks, moving the dainty icicle to the left per your suggestion.

“Maybe just a bit up?”

Bradley moves it and holds it up to a spot near the little glass Hawaiian shirt ornament you’d gotten for him. He was so amused by it that he’d given it what he called a place of honor on the tree.

“Hmm, no. I think back to the right and down a smidge.”

He turns and shoots you a smirk over his broad shoulder, “Ok, now you’re just messing with me.”

And then he hangs it on the tree with a flourish.

You laugh when he steps back and gives a dramatic sweep of the hand that would put Vanna White to shame.

Ever the showman.

He had been so excited when he’d found the ornaments in the storage locker he’d kept in Virginia earlier in the summer when the two of you had taken a quick trip to there to pack up the remaining things he’d left behind and bring them home.

The sleeves on the flannel plaid shirt he is wearing are rolled up highlighting his forearms and that snug fitting tank and the ridges of his abs on full display. You’d taken the liberties to sneak in a few glances as he’d bent over to grab ornaments out of the large plastic storage container you keep them in.

It’s an easy choice to abandon the silvery glittery Fa-la-la-la garland that you had been working on hanging on that tricky bit of wall space beneath the stairs to come stand next to him by the tree.

Plus, you know that you can get Bradley to put it up for you- even though he hates the feeling of glitter on his hands- if you offer to make him an Old Fashioned in exchange.

He drapes his arm over your shoulders and drops a kiss to the top of your head as you wrap your arms around his waist, the two of you taking a moment to admire the pretty twinkling tree in front of you with Bob Hope crooning softly on the background.

You love this tree.

And not because it is the most wonderfully ostentatious thing you’ve ever seen. Or because he’d surprised you with it when he asked you to move in with him the year before. But because it was one of the many ways he showed you just how important you were to him, just how much he paid attention to you.

Bradley kept asking what you wanted for Christmas this year, but you’d been avoiding giving him an answer.

Because he was the only thing on your list this year.

You would gladly never have a real tree again as long as it meant that Bradley got to be yours forever.

His allergy to pine trees had taken both of you by surprise last year. Before that chaotic afternoon last December, he had never had a real tree before, but it didn’t take long until his normally sunkissed skin has been covered in angry red hives.

And that gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir that you had selected from the Christmas tree lot had quickly become Jake’s gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir.

But you’ll never forget that magical moment when you had walked into his cozy living room to see that candy colored confection of a tree for the first time and how proud Bradley had been to be the one to make your dreams of a pink tree Christmas come true.

It was something you had only ever mentioned once in passing, but that’s who Bradley Bradshaw is. The type of man who goes above and beyond for the people he loves.

Last year, the two of you had just picked up a couple boxes of basic multicolored bobbles to hang on the tree. But this year, your pretty pink tree has some new decorations that you’d collected along the way since then.

The sparkling frosty mug was something he’d found at the airport on the way back from when you’d taken him home to meet your parents for the first time. To no one’s surprise, they’d loved him. He’d had a lot of fun at the breweries you’d taken him to and you liked getting to see a tipsy and pink cheeked Bradley Bradshaw.

There was a blue miniature model toy Bronco with a bottle-brush Christmas tree hanging out the back was one you’d recently found at a Christmas market you went to with Nat and Bob the previous weekend. You’ve never handed over your credit card for something so quickly before in your life.

There was even a shiny shamrock that Jake had picked up to commemorate your first- and last- Leprechaun Run.

It was a promise you were coerced into making in exchange for Jake’s help and the use of his truck to move your things into Bradley’s place the weekend after you happily agreed to live in with him. You were planning on waiting until after the beginning of the New Year, but Rooster wouldn’t hear of it. You were able to hold off for a few days, but he’d made some rather compelling points with his mouth that had swayed your mind pretty quickly.

That New Year’s Eve, he’d kissed you properly and thoroughly surrounded by a dozen half-unpacked brown cardboard boxes.

You thought Hangman would have forgotten about it, but it turns out the only person that had forgot was a you, because you’d nearly spit out your beer mid-sip when he’d slapped down the race bib in front of you at the Hard Deck one evening in March.

It was just as terrible as you’d imagined it would be and worse. Not even the four-leaf clover bobble headband you’d worn had cheered you up even the slightest.

The term fun run was an oxymoron and you were willing to die on that a hill.

And of course, there was also a copy of the house key dangling on a pretty pink velvet ribbon. The one he’d originally given you was a permanent fixture on your key ring.

“So what’s the verdict, sweetheart? How did I do? Is it fluffed enough?” he asks, pulling back to look down at you.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” you say grinning up at him.

You’ve loved his homey Craftsman since the first time you’d stepped inside it with all of its warm wooden paneling around the entryways and ceiling beams. The hand tiled fireplace was mostly for aesthetics rather than functionality. You’d filled it with a display of tall pillar candles, but there’d been a couple of occasions where the two of you had stacked it with wood picked up from the grocery store and had the sounds of its crackles and pops serving as the soundtrack to your cozy night in.

You loved it even more now that your books were mixed in with his on the bookshelf. On top of his upright piano there were framed pictures of you and him and of all your friends and family. On the mantle of that fireplace were ivory knit stockings embroidered with your name and his.

This was your home now too, pink Christmas tree and all.

“The best thing, huh?” he says, amused.

“Maybe second best,” you muse, sliding your hand into the back pocket of his snug jeans, “Those Danny Zuko shorts you wore last Halloween still live rent free in my head.”

“I’ve still got those short-shorts, you just say the word and I’ll go put them on for you anytime.”

You snort a laugh and pull him down for a kiss.

The two of you have been together for almost a year and a half, but the way Bradley kisses you still sets off butterflies in your stomach and makes your heart flutter.

Soft kisses. Passionate kisses. Hello kisses. See you soon- never goodbye- kisses. Just because kisses. There you are kisses. Never stop kissing me kisses. All of them turn you upside down just like a snow globe.

He pulls away first, looking to the tree again contemplatively, “You know, the more I look at this the I feel like something is missing.”

You skim over the tree with its warm glow from the many strands of lights, the sparkling ornaments, the glinting icicles, and the delicate bejeweled snowflake tree topper. Short of tying on a few bows for the fun of it, there’s nothing more you think this tree needs.

“I might have tucked a little something in the piano bench,” Rooster says with a nod towards his well-loved upright, “Why don’t you take a look.”

You try and fail to ignore the swoop in your stomach as you walk up to the bench. You already know that you want to be his forever and the two of you are on the same page about it, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. You’re trying to be practical, realistic.

But the heart wants what the heart wants, and your heart wants him.

The seat creaks open as you lift the lid open with a not-so-steady hand, and sitting inside a small box filled with iridescent filler are the prettiest pair of ceramic ice skates you’ve ever seen. You lift the dainty ornament from the box to see that they dangle from a couple ribbons that have been tied together in a lovely bow at the top. They even have a little white fluff lining the rims of boot.

It was one of the things you missed most about home, your town had a little outdoor rink that was set up every year. You weren’t the greatest skater and it had been a few years since you’d laced up a pair of boots, but it had always been one of your favorite traditions growing up.

“Oh Bradley, they’re so lovely,” you say with a dreamy sigh, “I love it, thank you!”

You admire them for another moment taking in all their little details before hanging them up on the pink tree near his little Hawaiian shirt ornament in a place of honor on the tree.

“I have another surprise for you,” he says with a grin, looking very proud of himself.

“Oh? When did you become such a man of mystery?” you tease.

“Gotta keep my girl on her toes,” Rooster winks, sliding a finger through your belt loop to pull you closer before wrapping his arms around you. “You know how Hotel del Coronado has that ice-skating rink set up now?”

Of course you did.

The tickets went on sale a little over seven weeks ago and time slots had sold out in five minutes. You’d even signed up early to try and get a spot in the queue and it still had kicked you out with empty hands.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, looking up at him skeptically.

Bradley has been on a training detachment at the time, so there was no way Mr. One Percent could have gotten them when you couldn’t. There’s just no way.

You must say that part out loud or think it loud enough for him to hear you because that gorgeous smile of his gets devastatingly self-satisfied.

“I sure did, sweetheart-”

You jump up and cut him off with a kiss, he is quick to get his hands underneath you for support while your legs wrap around him.

“Oh my god, Bradley, how?” you ask excitedly between peppering kiss across his nose and cheeks.

“Ok, I can’t take full credit. I had some help,” he admits, clearly happy with your reaction, “Nat has, and I quote, ‘fast fingers’.”

You make a little squeal in delight as you throw your arms around his neck to hug him and he laughs. It’s the best sound in the world to you.

“What do you say, want to make a day of it? I might have a few things in mind for our San Diego Christmas. We’re a couple weeks early, but I’m feeling festive.”

You get too distracted by his smiling mouth to give him your answer then and there, but you remember to officially accept later that night in bed after your heart finally stops racing.

Convincing you to move in with him might be the best thing Bradley’s ever done.

Those cool Winter nights last year had tasted like bourbon and were spent wrapped up together on the couch and under the covers.

Your first big fight had been over whose Super Bowl team was going to win. There had been a lot of trash talk that night, but eventually a peace had been brokered. And really, no one was a loser when it came to orgasms.

In the Spring, he had built you a bunch of raised garden beds in the backyard for you to grow whatever you wanted. He’d learned that he had a bit of a green thumb when it came to zucchinis, a fact that irked you to no end because you could never get them to produce anything. He didn’t know sunshine had a scent until he could smell it on your skin with your hands covered in dirt and a smile on your facec.

And he was not surprised to learn that he was also very much a fan of your sundress collection.

The golden Summer days were spent at the beach and taking road trips to nowhere in the Bronco then the long way home. Rooster burned more often than he cared to admit, but you started keeping a container of aloe in the fridge for him. He’d never say no to have your soft hands on his body, your touch more soothing than the cooling gel could ever be.

That Fall he’d finally been able to go home with you for Thanksgiving. He’d met your family earlier in the year, but you’d been so proud to show him off at the official family gathering as you’d sipped on your cranberry mimosa. And after a year of planning, the two of you had finally been able to enact your Stealthy Soufflé Scheme.

He had been determined to get his girl that closely guarded recipe no matter what.

Your Aunt Christine had been putty in his hands with all of his yes, ma’ams and no, ma’ams and charming smiles and All-American golden boy aviator thing. You’d primed him on what things she was interested in and he had fully leaned into it, sweet talk and all. It didn’t hurt that she had been a big fan of the expensive bottles Syrah the two of you had brought with you.

You and your mom had been thrilled when he’d presented you with the handwritten copy of the coveted recipe. He had been happy to do it, but he didn’t mind the way you showed him your thanks later that night in your childhood bedroom.

He was the first boyfriend you’d ever had in there, and if he has his way, he’d also be the last.

Victory- and that not-so-secret-anymore corn soufflé recipe- never tasted so good.

The two of you had had a great first Christmas together last year, excluding the slight hiccup with the whole hives thing. And he knows he’s a bit of a perfectionist, but he wants to make this one even better.

He had let you sleep in as long as he could, but he was excited for all the festive things he had arranged for today.

“C’mon, sleepy girl. We’ve got plans,” he says, skimming a few soft kisses along your shoulder.

“Do those plans involve coffee?” you mumble sleepily into your pillow.

He chuckles and brushes back a few of the hairs that are stuck against your forehead, “Of course, it’ll be the first stop after.”

You peek up at him from under your silk eye mask, he’s always liked a slightly fussy girl. You’d even got him one for his deployments to help him sleep better on the carrier.

“After what, Roos,” you ask skeptically.

“You seemed to enjoy that Leprechaun Run you did with Jake and I saw that there was an Ugly Sweater Fun Run today and I signed us up, we have to be there in an hour.”

“Bradley, you didn’t,” you say with a gasp, sitting up like you’ve been struck by lightning.

You look so alarmed, clutching the top sheet to your chest, that he can’t help but throw his head back and laugh.

“No, I didn’t. I promise,” he says, trying to pull you into his chest.

You shove lightly at his shoulder, “That was so rude of you, Bradley Peter Bradshaw.”

“Not the government name,” he smirks, leaning down to trail a couple kisses along your neck. He likes the way you always shiver when his mustache grazes that ticklish spot under your ear.

“Oh my god, I swear I just had a war flashback to that second mile when Jake tried to make me keep up with him,” you huff, leaning your head to the side to let him continue apologizing with his mouth, “You’re so lucky I’m even talking to you right now.”

“I am very lucky to have such a pretty, smart, and forgiving girlfriend. One who appreciates over the top Christmas decorations and brunch with themed cocktails.”

That piques your interest and you seem much more awake now for someone who usually needs at least two cups of coffee before becoming a fully functional human being, “Themed cocktails, you say?”

“Mhmm, they even have a Ho-Ho-Hot and Spicy Bloody Merry, spelled m-e-r-r-y,” he says with a smile, running a finger down the bridge of your nose. “But to get one, we have to get out of this bed and into the shower.”

“Sounds like it would be more efficient if we took one together, huh?” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Plus I’m all about preserving the planet’s natural resources.”

The two of you were a little late getting out of the house, having worked up an appetite, but still manage to make it in time for the reservations he had made.

The restaurant had been swathed in miles of frosted evergreen garlands with so many oversized ornaments dangling and ribbons woven throughout that he wasn’t sure how it hadn’t come crashing down off the ceiling. Not an inch of it was left undecorated, it was all stands of lights and shiny wreaths and giant cellophane covered candies.

Brunch had been complete with a couple of those Bloody Merry’s he’d heard about from Coyote, as well as an order of Santa pancakes topped with a hat of strawberries tossed with orange zest infused syrup.

The Christmas radio station was playing all of your favorites and you were singing along as he zipped along the highway to the next stop.

The Ocean Beach Christmas tree was beloved for being San Diego’s unofficial response to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Bob had told him he’d stumbled upon it on accident one day last year when he had been exploring his new city and learned about the tree’s forty-year history and had enthusiastically recommended that Rooster added it to his festive agenda.

Bradley loved the way your face lit up at the sight of it. The top of the massive tree was leaning to the right and looked straight out of Whoville the way it decorated with all kinds of blow up pool toys. There were beach balls galore, traditional ones and ones that looked like disco balls, a few parrots, and even one shaped like an electric guitar.

“Oh my god, look!” He looks up from the text message he was replying to and follows the line of your arm to where your finger is directing his gaze, “Another bird defying the laws of physics.”

And there tucked away up in the tree next to a blow-up globe is an inflatable rooster.

On the way back into town, two of you stopped by Mission Bay to grab some more coffee and walk around the marina to check out some of the decorated boats docked for the Parade of Lights. He’d heard about it from Penny, who had even participated in the event herself a few years ago.

You’d both agreed the one that had turned the tall mast of the sailing boat into a glowing Christmas tree was the clear winner.

The next stop was something Bradley knew you’d be really excited about.

He’d found out about the Christmas centerpiece floral arrangement class from Nat who had a crush on the florist who ran the little shop.

The class was filled with mostly women, but there were a couple other men scattered around. They’d greeting him with that head nod that only men seem to exchange, like you got roped into this too, huh?, but what they didn’t know was that being there had been his idea.

Rooster was slipping his phone back into his pocket when you returned back to your little round table with an arm full of various flowers and different greens, with not a pine frond in sight. He’d even called in advance to make sure that there wouldn’t be any involved, just in case.

You were divvying up the things that you’d gathered from the long farmhouse tables in the front between the two of you when his phone pings again.

“Rooster, is everything ok? I feel like your phone is going off a ton this afternoon,” you asked, putting down the white berry looking things to look at him, a little crease there between your eyebrows.

“Yeah, of course,” he’d said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Fanboy decided to invite chaos into the group chat by asking if a hot dog was a sandwich or not. It’s getting pretty contentious.”

You give him a look but go back to dividing the pile in front of you, moving on from the berry things to some small roses.

“Also, for the record, a hot dog is definitely a category of its own. You don’t call a hamburger a sandwich,” you’d replied, not missing a beat.

“You won’t hear me arguing with that logic.”

“Good. Because facts are facts, Bradley.”

He pulled out his phone again to give it one last quick skim before turning the volume down, before noticing what flowers you’d just set in front of him, “Hey, are those dahlias?”

You hold up a stem with a large deep burgundy flower for him, giving it a spin between your fingers, “They are! It’s a little late in the season for them, so I’m surprised to see them here. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Those were my mom’s favorites,” he’d said fondly, remembering a backyard from decades ago that was lined with around the edges with the flowers.

“Were they? Well, I’m glad I grabbed them then,” you said with a soft smile, before handing him a few more to work with.

By the end of class, he knows his ears are pink because of how much you’re showering him with praise and gushing over his arrangement. He’d even gotten a few supportive thumbs ups from some of the other people in class.

“Seriously, Bradley. It’s so lovely! I mean, look at those pinecones you tucked in it. I can’t wait to put it on the dining table!”

You wanted to swing by Mav and Penny’s place to drop yours off for them, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to convince you that it could wait until tomorrow.

He couldn’t wait for the next part of your day together.

Bradley jogs around the front of the Bronco to open your door for you after he parks at the Hotel del Coronado. He gives you his hand to help you down from the car, instead you reach and pull his face to yours.

The kiss is like spun sugar, airy and sweet. He could taste the lingering peppermint from your latte earlier.

“What was that for,” he murmurs against you lips.

“I just really love you,” you sigh, nudging his nose with yours, “Today has been so perfect. I feel like I’m in one of my Christmas movies, except I know you’re not going to ask me to leave my job in the big city to help you run your grandmother’s failing bakery to only get paid in gingerbread and Christmas spirit.”

“Lucky for you, my grandma could barely make toast, so you’re spared from such a fate. You wouldn’t need that little Mini Cooper of yours in a town that only has one stoplight.”

You press a quick kiss to his cheek, “Well thank goodness for small miracles.”

“We’ve still got one more thing on the list. You ready for this?” Bradley asks, holding his hand out.

You slip your hand in his with a grin, “Virtue and Moir better watch out.”

You can’t say you’ve ever expected to see an ice rink set up with a display of white sand and sparkling blue ocean behind it. But it was easily one of the most magical things you’ve ever seen.

The sunset has painted the skies a beautiful display of cool blues, soft pinks, and dusky purples. The palm trees lining the rink have been done up in strands of white lights that crisscross over it above your heads. The mixture of happy laughter, Christmas songs piped over the sound system, and waves crashing served as the soundtrack to the moment.

And you’re trying desperately not to fall and make a fool of yourself.

It was more than a little humbling stepping onto the rink after having not had a pair of ice skates on for more than a decade. It had been awhile since your family had indulged in this particular tradition, but you figured it would be like riding a bike.

It’s almost laughable now how wrong you were.

“How are you so good at this?” you jokingly accuse as you wobble on your skates, yet again. Luckily, Bradley’s sturdy grasp on your hand keeps you from falling.

He laughs, “I thought you said you did this all the time growing up?”

“I did! I just never said I was good at it.” A kid whizzes past you- a little too close, a little too fast- and Bradley shoots a disgruntled look at his swiftly retreating figure. “You come from a snow state, it’s in your blood. You automatically have the advantage.”

“Are you thinking of the other V-state? Vermont?” he teases, easily gliding around you swapping spots so that you’re closer to the edge of the rink rather than the middle.

“It snows in Virginia, I googled it.”

“I mean, yeah, but not a ton,” he says, “But it wasn’t like I was hitting up the indoor rinks either.”

“So you’re telling me you’re just a natural?” You roll your eyes affectionately at him.

He winks at you, “You said it not me, sweetheart.”

You’d nearly melted on the sight when Rooster had knelt down in front of you and looked up at you with such a boyishly charming smile as he’d tied the laces of your rented ice skates.

It took a moment to get your hummingbird heart back under control after that.

After a few more laps around, you’re starting to feel like you’re falling into the rhythm of it. You’re still keeping an eye out for people and the older kid who had earned himself more than one glare from people trying to enjoy their time on the rink as he erratically bobbed and wove his way through them. But your strides are getting longer and the shifting motion from side to side is getting smoother. You could almost claim to be gliding.

You’d forgotten how much fun it was, but then again, Bradley always made everything better and brighter.

Your cheeks ache in the best way from how much smiling you’ve been doing today.

And if you faked a couple wobbles so that he’d put his arm around you, it was worth the sacrifice of trying to look graceful. He’s already seen you at your best and at your worst, so you didn’t think your lack of skill standing on a quarter of an inch of metal was going to scare him away.

Rooster is a few feet ahead of you showing off some of his fancy footwork and maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted by his smile you would have heard the aggressive woosh of the kid’s skates as he sped up behind you.

It had only been a matter of time.

He collides with you but keeps his balance and propels himself forward, not slowing his pace in the slightest before taking off again. Your feet slip out for beneath you and before you know it you’re extending your right arm down to try and break your fall.

You meet the ice hard.

You feel pop.

A rush of warmth.

And then throbbing.

The next five hours pass in a twinkling blur of heavy guilt and aching pain.

Bradley had gone through so much effort planning such a perfect day for you and you feel terrible about how it ended.

The wait at the hospital had been miserable. The lights were too glaring and the noises too loud. The garish green and red garland draped on the desk seemed to mock you as you’d gone through the motions of getting checked in.

Your wrist had been killing you and you hated being the reason that Rooster’s leg hand been bouncing anxiously next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He’d tried to hide it, but you’d seen that deep furrow between his brows. You’d almost cried when he started stroking the back your pain-free hand with this thumb. It wasn’t until they’d brought you back for X-rays and had given you a light dose of painkillers that the world had shifted back into the dreamy soft focus it had been like earlier in the day with Bradley when he’d taken you on all those perfect dates.

You didn’t know if he had planned anything else, all you knew is that everything had unraveled so quickly.

It’s an odd feeling like you could float away at any moment. The painkillers made you feel buoyant and light, yet you can feel the weight on your shoulders just the way you feel the weight of the cast on your wrist.

Even now as the candy-colored lights that he’d put up along the front of the house bounce off of his still perfect curls, he’s wearing the softest of smiles for you as he works to open the front door. His dreamy brown eyes are reflecting nothing back at you other than warmth and affection and care.

Your wonderful, loving, perfect boyfriend. Your perfect Bradley.

You know it’s not entirely the drugs fault the way you’re struck by just how pretty he is. You’ve always thought so, but here and now you’re simply mesmerized by him under the glow of the Christmas lights.

“I don’t think I’ve been called pretty before, sweetheart. But thank you,” Bradley says with a little amused chuckle.

“Well you are. And your hair. Bradley, it’s not fair.” The words are tumbling out of your loose lips.

“My hair isn’t fair?” he asks with a tilt of his head, holding open the front door for you.

“No, it’s not! You just wash it and it dries like that?” He takes your purse from you and sets it on the entry table before helping to ease off the heavier sweater jacket you were wearing from your shoulders. “I don’t think you get it. You’re pretty, but you’re so handsome too.”

He squats down in front of you and smiles up at you before helping to slip off your shoes, “I’ll take handsome too if it’s on the table, sounds like a nice combo.”

“Please, you sound like Jake now,” you giggle.

“Oh no, we can’t have that now can we,” he grins, “But at least I’m pretty and handsome, hopefully that’ll cushion the blow.”

And you just love him.

You love him for the way he loves you and takes care of you and tries to make you laugh when he knows you’re feeling down. You reach up to pull his face to yours when you are distracted by the thick cast on your arm.

“This wasn’t the accessory I was hoping for for Christmas,” you say with a sigh.

The panic that electrifies your body is immediate as your spine goes ramrod straight. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. You can almost see the words swirl and twirl around him, and you know there’s no way you can snatch them back from the way they hang in the air.

“Ohmygod. Oh my god, I didn’t mean to say that.” You’re so flustered now, so embarrassed. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

But Bradley is looking at you with his eyes crinkled around the corners and his lips pressed together like he is trying to hold back a laugh with the way his cheeks are pulling up.

“Oh, did you want a pair of earrings?” he teases, cupping your face in his hand.

“Bradley,” you whine.

“C’mere, baby,” he laughs and pulls you into his chest. You wrap your arms around him and wonder briefly if he can feel the hard plaster of your cast pressed against his back. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “You know you never did tell me what you wanted for Christmas.”

“Don’t need anything,” you murmur into the warmth of him.

He’s already all you’ve ever wanted.

As you make your way up the stairs, glow from your pretty pink tree seems brighter than usual. Normally, you’d take one last peek back at it before going to bed, but you’re still a bit wobbly on your feet. It’ll still be there waiting for you in the morning.

“Oh shit,” you hear him mutter from behind you.

“What’s wrong, Roos?”

“Ah- just stubbed my toe. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” The heavy tread of his footsteps is close behind you, you can almost feel the warmth of him at your back.

At you back. By your side. He’s the only person you’ll ever need.

They’d given you some of the strong stuff and he could tell that you were still floating in that sweet spot before all the gravity settles back into your bones.

The distal radius fracture in your right wrist meant that you’d be in the cast for the next six weeks. You’d gone with a white and pink stripped candy cane inspired look to match the tree, Bradley. While he wishes it wasn’t there in the first place, he thought the pattern you’d chosen was cute.

He’d quickly and quietly kicked off his shoes before he’d followed you into the bedroom. Hoping that you wouldn’t notice them, he’d take a disinfecting wipe to the floor and stairs tomorrow.

For as well as Rooster knew you, he felt a little out of his element because he knew you were hurting but he wasn’t sure what would make you feel better in that moment. When he offered to draw you a bath he’d instantly known it was the right choice by the look on your face.

So he’d made you one with all of your favorite products. The mound of bubbles he was able to achieve was truly impressive, if he did say so himself. He even dimmed the lights and lit a few candles for you.

Bradley had carefully wrapped up your cast in plastic wrap and secured the top with a rubber band. And the dejected pout on your face when you looked at it and called it an “unattractive arm condom” had nearly sent him over edge.

“I really am jealous of your hair, you know. I’m sure there were a few of the girls at that floral class who were too.”

Your head is leaning back against the lip of the tub as you gaze at him, your hair wet from him washing it for you. He’d noticed the moment you realized how difficult it would be for you to do it yourself for the foreseeable future. But you brought out the optimistic side of him and he’d already come up with a solution, “I guess we’ll have to take more showers together then, so I can wash your hair for you. Plus, it’ll be good for the environment”. You’d laughed, and he was happy to see some of the light returning back into your eyes.

“I don’t know why when yours is so pretty,” he says, reaching out and lightly tugging on a lock of your hair.

“Did I tell you one of them asked me if you had a brother? She was honestly so put out when I said that you didn’t that I’m pretty sure she took the last of the dahlias out of spite when she saw me reaching for them. They didn’t even match her arrangement,” you say rolling your eyes, adjusting the way your plastic wrapped candy cane cast rested against the other side of the tub. “Like sorry not sorry, I’m not going to give you my boyfriend.”

“Was it the woman in the striped sweater?”

“Yes! It was her!”

Bradley had notice her checking him out a little too closely for a man who was clearly there another woman and happily taken.

“She had crazy eyes, I wouldn’t have wanted you to give me to her anyways.”

You snicker at that, “She did have crazy eyes.”

He makes a mental note to remember to grab the arrangements from out of the back of the Bronco before he goes to bed. He didn’t want anything to happen to them, but that could until after you were tucked in bed and asleep.

“But the instructor was so sweet, Roos. I told her that the dahlias were your mom’s favorites and then she went to the back and got me a bunch. She didn’t put them on the table or anything for anyone else, just handed them over to me for us to use. It was a real girls supporting girls moment, we bonded.”

He’s struck by the fact that you’d already known about his mom’s favorite flower. That you had let him think it was happenstance when really you had grabbed them because you’d known it would mean something to him. That you wanted to make it special for him when he was trying to make it a special day for you.

He didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than he already did, but you were so good at making him fall in love with you over and over again.

“That was really nice of her, sweetheart,” he says, his throat a little thick.

“It really was. And better yet she’s single and likes women,” you say with a grin, “I got her number to get coffee, but I might see if I can play matchmaker between her and Nat. She looks like Nat’s type.”

“This was our instructor? You got all of that out of her in a few minutes of conversation?” he asks, impressed.

You give him a cheeky shrug of your shoulder, “Yeah, I’m efficient. She owns the shop too. I think I’m going to order something for Penny and Mav from her closer to Christmas.”

“You know what, I think you’re right, she does seem very much like Nat’s type,” Bradley smiles to himself, Phoenix is going to be very excited when he tells her about this.

“’m always right,” you hum.

“You sure are, sweetheart,” he says fondly.

He watches as your eyelids start to get heavy and helps you to get out of the tub, wrapping you up in the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find and sits you on the bed as he goes into the closet to find something cozy for you to wear.

“What do you want me to grab you, baby?”

“Your shirt,” you call out sleepily.

He peeks his head around the opening, “Sweetheart, you’re not going to want hospital germs in bed.”

“No, not that one,” you say, scrunching your nose, “Your henley. The soft navy one with the little white flecks. ‘s my favorite.”

You look so tired, he doesn’t like the slump of your shoulders. He knows that feeling all too well and he hates that you feel so bad about something that you had no control over. It had been such a good day up until the end. But even so, you’re the only person he wants to go through the highs and lows with.

He strips down and puts both his clothes and yours into the hamper before grabbing the shirt for you. “Arms up,” he says gently, he pulls the sleeve wide to fit over your cast before threading it down your arms and over your head.

Rooster pulls back the covers for you to crawl into bed. He climbs in after you, cradling you against him as he reaches over for the remote to turn on your favorite Christmas movie channel for you to fall asleep too.

Your cast rests heavy on his chest.

The heroine just won the cookie cook-off and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you murmur quietly into the dark room, “This is the second year in a row, Bradley, I really think we should consider skipping Christmas next year. For both of our sake’s.”

“We’ve got too much Christmas spirit for a little pine tree allergy or fractured wrist to keep us down,” he tips your head up so that you’re looking at him, “Give it time, it’ll turn around. I promise, sweetheart.”

He seals that vow with a sweet kiss against your lips and a few minutes later he feels as your breaths even out and you fall asleep tucked against him.

You wake up the next morning feeling more than a little groggy and cotton-headed as everything from yesterday comes rushing back to you.

As does the aching in your right wrist.

You reach out for Rooster, but his side of the bed is already cold. He’s always been an early riser and once he’s awake he doesn’t know how to sit still. You wouldn’t have minded cuddling with him for a little bit, but knowing him he has probably already brewed a pot of coffee for you.

When you finally crack open your eyes, you see that he’s left out a bottle of the prescription strength ibuprofen the doctor had sent home with you on your nightstand and a note written in his slanted script reminding you to take one. Your sweetest boy.

You attempt to splash some cold water on your face with one hand, willing it to depuff your face a little bit and then try to fix up your hair so that you look and feel less bedraggled. It is one thing if Bradley is the one responsible for it, but that wasn’t the case this morning.

Before heading downstairs, you decide on a whim to change out of his shirt and into the cozy cream-colored fuzzy lounge set you’d bought on sale the other week. It takes three times longer to get dressed than it usually did, but getting yourself at least a little more put together made you feel a bit more in control. You knew the extra effort wasn’t necessary, but you felt cute and it was making you feel a little bit better about everything.

The pink and white cast was a bit of a choice looking at it in the morning light filtering through the airy curtains, but you thought you pulled it off well. It was cheerful and fun. And you weren’t going to let it affect you or your Christmas plans with your perfect boyfriend.

There is still some residual guilt you’re trying to shake off, you know it was a fluke of fate, but you’re already thinking about ways to make it up to him all the same.

You gingerly make your way down the stairs making a mental note to look up what other festive things were happening this weekend and call out to Rooster, “Please tell me there’s coffee.”

The raspy laugh that reaches your ears makes you smile for the first time that morning, “I’ve got one ready for you in the living room, sweetheart. It’s ready when you are.”

The painkillers, the coffee. The man is a saint and looks like a god. And he’s all yours.

You take those final few steps a bit faster, ready for the strong dark roast that only he seems to be able to make to just right and to thank him for taking such good care of you.

You lose all words when you walk into the living room.

It’s like you’ve walked into a dreamy pink forest straight out of a fairytale.

Your beloved very large, very fluffy, pink tree covered with all of your memories collected from the past year and Bradley’s mom’s sparkling vintage glass icicles is surrounded by two other very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas trees.

The newest additions to the living room glow with the hundreds of twinkling white lights. It’s ethereal and whimsical the way the light bounces and dapples on the walls and floors.

And there standing in front of them is Bradley, barefoot in his favorite sweatpants in your cozy living room of the home he’s made with you looking like a daydream.

You don’t think it’s the prescription strength pain medication kicking in that makes you feel like you’re floating as you walk towards him. You know it’s all him.

Bradley says your name with such adoration, such love that you swear you feel your heart reshape in your chest with his name on it.

“I envisioned this a bit differently in my mind, but the way I see it, we’re just starting the ‘in sickness and in health’ part a bit early,” he says, taking your right hand and dropping a kiss to your cast. Your eyes well up at the tender gesture.

And then you stop breathing when he sinks down onto one knee in front of you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love your big heart and the way you’re so kind and generous to everyone you meet. I love the way you can light up a room with your smile. The best parts of my days are when I am with you. You’re the only person I want to wake up to, the only person I want to fall asleep with in my arms, and the only person who I want a forever with.” He reaches out and takes your shaky hand in his warm one, “Last year, you let me give you more than a drawer and it has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. This year, will you let me give you my last name too and marry me?”

You had imagined this moment so many times. It was the movie you’d put on in your mind on those nights when sleep felt just out for reach. And like a snowflake, no two dreams had been the same.

But nothing you’d imagined could have ever topped the reality of this moment here and now.

Because there was nothing was better than being surrounded by three pink fluffy trees and looking forward to getting to spend a lifetime with Bradley Bradshaw.

“Well it’s convenient I fractured the right one,” you say with a watery laugh as a few happy tears escape from your eyes.

“I guess that is a lucky break,” he grins.

“Literally.”

You didn’t think it was possible to smile this wide. That you could be this happy.

“You still haven’t given me an answer yet, sweetheart,” he says, slightly squeezing your good hand.

“Haven’t I though?” you tease. There’s no what he doesn’t know what your answer is, not with the way you’re beaming.

“C’mon, let me hear you say it.”

You don’t make him wait for long.

“Yes, Bradley, yes I will marry you. It’ll always be a yes with you.”

You barely get to finish your sentence before he is shooting to his feet, pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

Your Bradley. Your fiancé.

On Christmas morning, after all the presents are unwrapped, you find yourself sitting under your perfectly pink tree surrounded by scraps of ribbons and bits of shiny wrapping paper.

Even your striped pink and white cast looked particularly festive under the gleam of the trees.

Rooster is in the kitchen making another pot of coffee for the two of you to share. You can hear him singing along to one of the vintage crooner Christmas albums you had gotten him.

You’ll be hosting Mav, Penny, and Amelia for dinner tonight. You let yourself enjoy this quiet of the mid-morning before things get chaotic. The two of you had dressed the oval oak dining table yesterday afternoon. The centerpiece you’d ordered from Nat’s now New Year’s Eve date was stunning, there were even a few white dahlias tucked into the arrangement. Thankfully, with no pine needles in sight.

The tall pillar candles had been moved off to the side and a real fire was popping in the hearth of the tiled fireplace. And the sun streaming through the bay windows is bouncing off that sparkly silver garland that you’d gotten Bradley to hang up for you in a way that makes the shiny wooden floors look like they’ve been scattered with specks of confetti.

The swirling, sparkling, shimmering dots on the ceiling, however, were from your own ring as you move and tilt your hand admiring the way the sun illuminates it. You know the matching pair of diamond earrings that Bradley had gotten for you as you Christmas gift are shining just as bright.

He still blushes whenever anyone teases him about forgetting to pull out the engagement ring he had got for you before he’d proposed. But you wouldn’t have changed anything about that moment for the world.

The marquise diamond had belonged to his mom, but he had had it reset in gold with a halo of diamonds around it for you. He’d even bought a pink velvet box to put it in for the occasion. It was easily the prettiest thing you’d ever seen and your heart still fluttered every time you saw it on your finger.

The two new trees are still only dressed with the many strands of lights that they’d arrived with. You learned that Bradley had enlisted Jake and Natasha to help him out with that particular surprise that day a couple weeks ago when he’d taken you on what you affectionately refer to as the 12 Dates of a Christmas Proposal.

Your favorite pink tree, the one he had gotten for you last year- the one you’re sitting under now- was also in possession of a new accessory. A shiny new pink ring pop ornament Bradley had gotten to commemorate the occasion of you saying yes and was hanging in a place of honor on the tree right between the little Hawaiian shirt ornament and the dainty, dangling ice skates.

Saying yes was the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Yes to forever. Yes to him.

This season and every season.

You couldn’t wait to see what new ornaments would fill those trees by next year.

And the one after that.

And the next one after that.

Happy Holiday's! It's been almost a year since I've posted my very first story on here. I'm so thankful that a zoom kaboom plane movie has introduced me to so many wonderful people! Thank you for reading my stories and for all the support I've received over this last year! It has meant the world to me!

This story is set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe. If you missed the fic that started it all, you can read it here!

Many thanks to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for so, so many reasons. I hope you enjoy this, this one's for you!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#oh look another full length novel for you! complete with the deep directors cuts haha!#it's festive! it's fluffy! i'm forever swooning over it!#thank you for being the number 1 supporter of the pink tree agenda!#the babe with the candy colored christmas

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0anonnymouslyours0 · 2 years ago

Text

you are perfect - joseph quinn

warnings / description: this was requested by @kellysimagines!! joseph!quinn x female!reader. req: joe and the reader have been together since s4 shooting, and they're in brazil with jamie at a meet and greet. reader gets insecure because there are so many pretty girls, she feels insecure of her chest size. warnings: fighting, insecure/jealous reader, kissing, titty sucking ..

"y/n! joe! look over here at the camera!"

"can we get your autograph!"

"what was it like acting in stranger things with each other?"

"how long have you guys been dating?"

you blink twice, feeling the pressure of hundreds of eyes watching you. you knew the press tours were going to be busy, but you weren't excepting them to be quite this stressful. you stood next to joe and jamie on the podium, answering questions, signing various items and taking pictures with fans.

you glanced at the queue of girls that had formed next to joe, all wanting to take a picture with him. they were all so beautiful. there hair was all perfectly done, make up flawless, beautiful figures. one girl stepped up, next in line to take a photo with joe. she had a small black crop top on, cleavage on full display. you glanced down at your own chest, cheeks heating. you had always been a little self-conscious about your chest size. now dating joe, you were even more aware, because of the thousands of beautiful girls who threw themselves at him daily.

"y/n? can i get your autograph? i'm a big fan of your work." a girl said, smiling at you.

you exhaled quickly, before smiling at her brightly. you needed to focus your attention on your own fans, and the meet and greet, not your insecurities.

"of course!" you replied.

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the meet and greet had finished a couple hours ago. you had gone back to your hotel, exhausted. joe had gone out with jamie, seeming to have much more energy then you. you scrolled through instagram. there were a few posts about todays meet and greet, along with photos of girls smiling next to joe, or looking up at him with large doe eyes. you frowned, when you came across a picture of the same girl you saw earlier. the feeling of self consciousness came over you again. you clicked away from the picture, shaking your head. then you got an idea. you googled the best plastic surgeons in brazil, taking a screenshot of the results. this way you could be just as beautiful as those girls, beautiful for joe.

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"hey love! im home!"

"joe!" you said hugging him as he walked into your room.

"how was your time with jamie?"

"yeah fun- got bombarded by paparazzi though." he said placing a kiss on your cheek.

"thats a shame." you said, frowning.

"yeah- oh that reminds me, do you have that photo of us at the event today?"

"yeah its on my phone, just send it to yourself." you said handing him the phone, before laying back down on your bed.

he nodded, walking of to find his phone in the other room.

"y/n? that the hell is this?" joe called angrily.

you sat up quickly, racking your brain for what he could of seen. there was nothing weird- was there?

oh.

the screen shot of the plastic surgeons. joe came in, brandishing the phone in front of your face.

"why are you looking at plastic surgeons?" he asked, dropping the phone on the bed.

"i- i'm not sure.."

"don't lie."

"i was thinking about getting.. um a surgery."

"why would you do that?"

you felt tears brimming. you hated fighting with him. you hated that you were so insecure about this. it was just pathetic.

"i wanted to.. to be pretty for you."

he face immediately relaxed, a frown forming on his brow.

"oh honey, you're so pretty."

he sat down next to you, pulling you into a hug. he pulled away kissing you while cupping your cheeks.

"you are so pretty baby. you don't need anything changed."

he kissed down your jawline, his hands coming up to fiddle with the strings of your top. he pulled your top down, and it pooled at your waist. he moved back to your face, kissing your mouth. you moaned, as his hands unexpectedly came up to grab your breasts roughly.

"you are so pretty. so so pretty." he whispered into your ear.

he unclasped your bra, throwing it across the room. he kissed down along your collarbone. you chest heaved as his lips closed around your nipple. he ran his tongue around it. a groan escaped his mouth, vibrating along your skin. you arched your back, giving him more access. you moaned as you delivered a quick bite to the skin. he moved to your other breast, repeating the seem motions. he kissed back up to your chin, hands cupping your breasts. he kissed you, leaning back and grinning stupidly.

"don't ever change anything about you. you are perfect."

this took forever. also tysm for 160 followers !! i feel so lucky :) i also had a crisis halfway through writing this and kept spelling his name joeseph?

#stranger things #female reader #oneshot #fluff #st4 #smut #eddie munson #masterlist #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn #stranger things cast #eddie my beloved

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jenoismydad · 4 years ago

Text

2 + 3 = You In Me

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Pairing: Tutor!Jaemin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (pwp), Slight Angst, College AU

Words: 4.6k+

Warnings: 18+ content. Unprotected sex.

Synopsis: He agrees to tutor you and you end up becoming good friends even though you both so clearly want to be more. What happens when you let you bodies talk for you?

Jaemin was coming over to help you prepare for a test. You had no clue how he'd agreed to assist you, but you were thankful nonetheless. Jaemin rarely ever studied with girls. Mostly because they were always hitting on him. But it seemed you were an exception. You wondered why but you figured it was because he was trying to make some extra money.

Yes, Jaemin made you pay him. He made everyone pay him so you didn't think too much of it. From what you'd heard, his methods never failed to prove effective. You hoped he could help you study well enough to pass this test. After all, a majority of your grade depended on it.

You'd spent a good amount of your time trying to prepare a nice study space for you both to sit at in your apartment. So far you'd only managed to clean your coffee table and place two cushions for seats at its feet.

Jaemin would be here any minute. You rushed to get everything you'd need for the day, wanting to keep it all ready so that you wouldn't have to interrupt the study session. Your bell rang not soon after. He was here on time.

Opening the door, you welcomed him with a smile. He nodded and entered without a word. Black track pants and a plain white shirt. Jaemin hadn't made much of an effort to dress to impress. He ventured into your dorm, looking around the place silently.

That's when he came across your makeshift study zone. He pointed at it and looked at you.

"We're studying here," he asked, placing his hands in his pockets. He sounded a tad bit dejected. Your eyes widened slightly in panic. Was he not comfortable with sitting on the floor? "Yeah, I figured. Is there a problem," you asked, fearing the worst for no reason. Jaemin shook his head. "Nope, I just thought we were gonna sit in your room. That's where most of the girls take me anyways," he revealed, flashing you a small grin. You immediately felt at ease.

"My room's kind of a mess at the moment," you admitted, joining him near your couch. He took a seat on the floor, placing the cushion behind his back instead. He cleaned his black-rimmed glasses and patted the space next to himself. "Let's get started."

Jaemin was a pro at breaking down the complex concept so that your pea-sized brain could understand it to the fullest. The only drawback with that method was that it took much longer than you'd like it to. Two hours later you'd only finished one of the chapters that would be coming for the test. You still had four more to go.

"Fuck it's already three o'clock," you complained, falling dramatically on the coffee table. Jaemin flipped his pen in his fingers and stretched his body with a yawn. "I don't mind staying overtime," he joked. He'd made a lot of humoring comments during your time with him. The last you'd heard, he tended to be quite serious, never straying from his purpose. Not that you minded or anything, but Jaemin wasn't really meeting the expectations everyone had set for him in your mind. Maybe they were just trying to intimidate you.

"Don't you have to study too," you asked, turning your head to glance at him. He looked at you and shook his head. "I already studied beforehand. Plus, this test's gonna be super easy. You pass it with a breeze," he admitted. As relieving as that sounded, you didn't wanna take any chances. What if he flunked the test because he didn't revise or something. You really didn't want to be the person he blamed when that happened.

"You don't have to stay for my sake. You can go home if you want to. I think I can manage on my own now." you flipped through the pages of your coursebook, sighing in despair. It was a lot to go through. At least you still had half the day left.

Jaemin folded his arms. "Don't worry about me y/n. Not to undermine you, but I don't think you can get through all of this by yourself. I mean, you barely managed to understand the basics. All those chapters just branch off from this one and get increasingly tough to learn."

If this was him trying to convince you to let him stay then it sure as hell was working. You groaned and sat back up. "You promise you won't fail the test because of me then?" Jaemin chuckled. "Of course not. I'll pass with flying colors."

So you resumed studying. Jaemin was right. What he taught you next was more confusing than the first chapter you'd covered. You regretted not paying attention during your lectures. Jaemin never got impatient with you. In fact, he took ample time to make sure you understood everything he explained to you. He was very thorough and you appreciated that. However the more knowledge you absorbed, the more exhausted you felt. It got to the point where you felt like you couldn't study any further. Jaemin then suggested that you take a small break. You couldn't have agreed faster.

"Once we're done you should go through the practice questions that I emailed you," Jaemin reminded, taking a sip of the soda you'd offered him. You gave him a thumbs up and fell on the ground. "You're a lifesaver Na Jaemin."

Jaemin chuckled and turned to you. "I'm guessing it's not just math that you're having a problem with."

You raised your head and narrowed your eyes at him. "Nicely deduced."

"We can get together to study together for your other subjects if you don't mind. No need to pay me either," he offered.

You furrowed your brows. "Jaemin the longer you spend teaching me the dumber you're gonna get."

He brushed you off. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that."

"You never know, and besides, after today you should know that it's gonna take five hundred years to clear all my concepts. Do you even have that kind of time?"

Jaemin tilted his soda can at you. "You'd be surprised at how much free time I have on my hands."

You smiled. "Wait so you're actually agreed to be my personal tutor."

Jaemin rolled his eyes amusedly. "It was my proposition but yes. I wouldn't be your personal tutor though. Just a study partner."

You sat up and leaned back. "So like, studying in the library after class and stuff like that?"

He nodded. "If the library's closed we can come here or I can take you to my place."

You pursed your lips, considering his deal. But something paused your train of thoughts. "Wait a minute. Why are you asking me this all of a sudden? You hardly seem like the type of guy who'd study with someone else."

Jaemin downed his drink, wincing at the fizziness that clawed at his throat. "I've had fun studying with you so far. Like, you're genuinely dumb, unlike some other people I tutor who just pretend to be dumb so they can spend a few hours with me."

You raised a brow. Had he just called you dumb? "I'll try not to take offense, thank you very much."

Jaemin apologized with a laugh.

"Does it make you feel smarter in some type of way," you asked? Jaemin hummed in response. "It kinda does now that you mention it. But I also feel like it would help me revise and clear my own concepts at the same time."

That made sense. "Damn, and here I was thinking you wanted to do this cause you were interested in me."

Jaemin's eyes widened. You raised your hands in defense. "It's just a joke. Don't take it seriously," you assured. Jaemin relaxed at that.

"Let's get started again. We're almost halfway there," he said, changing the topic. You agreed and sat beside him again, pen in hand, ready to go.

You walked out of your lecture with a bright smile on your face and headed straight to the library. Sure enough, Jaemin was already sitting there, waiting for you patiently. You sent him a small wave and skipped over to him. Handing him your graded test paper, you watched excitedly as his eyes lit up.

"Oh my god. You passed!"

You squealed and sat next to him, placing your bag near your feet. Jaemin smiled up at you. "This is such a good score," he added, glad that he'd been able to help.

"Henceforth we're studying together for every single test. I don't care if you're sick or at a friend's house."

Jaemin laughed and nodded. "Sure thing. If it means seeing you this happy then I'm down."

You froze at his words, glancing towards him. He clearly didn't seem to realize what he'd just said. Maybe you'd heard wrong. It was possible. After all, he was whispering. You didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to listening anyways. Concluding that you were mistaken, you pulled out your books and got to finishing up your assignments.

A few hours later Jaemin and you exited the library. You both usually parted ways since your dorms were in the opposite direction. However today, Jaemin followed behind you.

"What are you doing," you asked when he jogged up next to you. "We should celebrate your achievement today," he suggested. That sounded nice. "Okay then, what do you propose we should do?"

Jaemin pondered on your question. "Let's go to the cafe. I'll buy you coffee and anything else you want."

Coffee was perfect. You nodded and agreed. Jaemin grinned and led you to a small cafe that was just a little outside campus.

You both entered the small shop, the tantalizing scent of coffee hitting your senses immediately. Even though it was almost lunchtime, the cafe was brimming with multitudes of students. Luckily, the queue was short.

"Go find us somewhere nice to sit. I'll buy us some drinks," Jaemin said, pulling out his phone. Before you left, you let him know what you'd like.

Venturing to the back of the cafe, you found a secluded booth for two. It faced a large window, one that gave a fantastic view of the campus. You took a seat and placed your bag next to you. After a couple minutes of waiting, Jaemin emerged with your drinks in hand. He handed you yours before sitting down.

"Iced Americano? I see you're into the classics," you chimed, deciding to spark up a conversation. Jaemin took a sip of his drink. "Simple is the best after all."

Of course, it was. "Hey Jaemin," you started, setting your drink down on the table. He hummed. "Do you wanna come over later today," you asked. Jaemin furrowed his brows. "But we already finished studying."

You shook your head. "Not to study. Let's hang out, maybe watch a movie or something like that."

He seemed a bit taken aback, but nothing too alarming. It was just that you two never really did anything other than study together. Sure enough, you'd become close because of it. But you figured as friends, there were other things you could engage in to pass the time.

"Let's do it. What time should I come over," Jaemin asked? "Does seven work for you? I'll order pizza, so you don't need to worry about dinner."

Jaemin nodded. "Seven works for me."

As soon as the clock struck seven, there was a knock on your door. The ever punctual Jaemin would never be a second late. You let him in, eager to get your night started. He walked into your dorm and went straight to your room, plopping down on your bed as if it were his own.

You'd already been browsing on Netflix, wondering what genre he liked. It had never come up in conversation before so you didn't really know.

"What are we watching," he asked, scrolling through the options. You shrugged and joined him on your bed. "I'm not sure. I didn't know what you like," you admitted.

"I usually just watch whatever's in the top ten or 'new this week'," he shared. He stopped at a movie you would never have believed he'd be interested in.

"You wanna watch Yes Day," you asked in disbelief? Jaemin giggled and nodded innocently. "It looks super lame but I've already finished watching everything," he revealed. Here you were thinking you both would watch something more serious instead of a family movie. Instead of spending forty minutes trying to settle on one movie, you decided it best to just go with the first choice.

Jaemin started the movie and leaned back beside you. It was quiet between you both for the most part. You watched the movie in silence. It wasn't as entertaining as you'd thought it would be, but Jaemin seemed to be engrossed in it so you chose to say nothing and continued staring at the screen.

Halfway into the movie, Jaemin stifled a yawn and fell to the side, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He looked at you and pointed to the screen. "Are we gonna keep watching this?"

You let out a breath of relief and exited out of the movie once and for all. "If you didn't like it why'd you make me watch it," you complained, shutting your laptop. Jaemin sat up and crossed his legs. "I thought you were enjoying it. You even laughed at the funny parts."

You stuck your chin out. "You should know what my fake laugh sounds like by now Jaemin." He raised his hands in defense. "The only time I hear you laugh is when you realize you're doing something wrong."

You tsked. "That's called nervous laughter genius. You suck at interpreting emotions."

He hit you with a pillow softly. "Hey, stop making me out for a robot."

"You're the human embodiment of the AI," you joked, dodging the pillow he swung at you. Raising your hands in defense, you shielded yourself from him. "At least I said you're intelligent."

Jaemin paused his attacks. "You're lucky I think you're cute. I'll let you off the hook for now."

You had another one of those moments where you froze, wondering if the words that had come out of his mouth were true or not. He didn't whisper this time. You'd heard everything word for word. But you couldn't believe it.

"Did you just call me cute?"

Jaemin nodded, not seeming too surprised about it. "You aren't not cute," he added. Maybe you were misinterpreting the meaning behind it. Friends called friends cute. It was normal. That didn't mean that they liked each other, did it?

Noticing the conflict in your expression, Jaemin leaned forward and cleared his throat. "I didn't mean it in an 'I have a crush on you' type of way."

Something about that made your stomach churn. You felt uneasy all of a sudden. You wanted to be relieved, that he didn't think of you as more than a friend. But a part of you wished he felt otherwise. You didn't know why, it just did.

You chuckled awkwardly and faced him. "Yeah, of course, you didn't. I don't know why I thought that."

Jaemin hummed and rested his chin on his palm. "Maybe because you wanted it to be true."

"Huh?"

"Maybe you wanted me to tell you that I like you."

You didn't know what to say to that. So you just smiled awkwardly. "But you don't, do you?"

Jaemin grinned. "Do you want me to?"

"No! Of course not, why would I-"

"I'm just messing with you y/n. Don't worry, we're just friends," he assured, finding you getting alarmed quite amusing. You hit his shoulder. "Don't joke around like that. Who knows what might happen."

Jaemin's laughter died down. He met your gaze sombrely. You knew he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. His eyes traveled down to your lips for a moment. You sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling giddy. Jaemin looked back into your eyes, this time with a small smile. You didn't know what he was doing. You also didn't know if you liked it or not. Your mind said one thing and your body said another. Jaemin subtly licked his lips. You had no clue why the action had such a devastating effect on you.

Before you knew it, your lips were on his. Jaemin didn't seem surprised at all. In fact, he relaxed and snaked his arm around your waist, pulling your body onto his. He fell back on your mattress, bringing you on top of him. Straddling his lap, you placed your hands on either side of his head, kissing him with vigor. Jaemin groaned against your mouth, the sound sending warm shivers down your back. His lips were softer than you thought they'd be and he tasted faintly of coffee.

His hands slipped under your shirt, resting on your skin. His touch felt fiery hot. You rolled your hips over his lap impulsively, biting his both lip as a throaty groan left his mouth. He squeezed your waist and trailed his hands down to your ass.

Before things could escalate, however, your bell rang. You both stilled, separating from each other. When your eyes met, you scrambled off of him and sat at the edge of your bed, completely stunned. Jaemin rubbed his face and sat up as well, not really knowing what to say. The bell rang again, snapping you out of your daze. "I'll go get that," you muttered disorientedly, leaving Jaemin in your room. He nodded and stood up. "Actually, I'm gonna go," he said, leaving your room before you could say anything. You heard the door open and shut soon after. Your bell rang again.

You went to open your door. A delivery guy stood before you, hands empty with a confused look on his face. "The guy that just left took the pizza with him. He said that you'd pay for it." You couldn't believe it. Nonetheless, you paid the man and shut your door. What had just happened?

A few days passed after the incident at your dorm. Jaemin hadn't called or texted you and in all honesty, you hadn't made an attempt to contact him. You felt too embarrassed to face him. After all, it was you who'd gone onto him. Even if he didn't push you away it wasn't like either of you had agreed to start making out. You were anxious because you knew you'd ruined your friendship with him.

A part of you missed him. You enjoyed spending time with him, even though all you did was study. Everything was so bleak now that he wasn't around to humor you.

You didn't want to regret whatever had happened that night. It was amazing. You just wished it hadn't ended the way it did. You should have understood that he indeed was joking. Instead, you mistook his prodding for sarcasm.

It made no sense for you to not speak to him. You wanted to make amends, figure out what had gone wrong. But you were scared he'd ignore you. That would just make you feel worse than you already did.

So you passed the days, wafting in your own misery. Pitying yourself as if the entire weight of the world had been thrown on your shoulders.

Little did you know that all it would take was another shitty test score for you to pick up your phone and call Jaemin.

"Help me study," you said as soon as he answered the call. Jaemin was silent on the other end. "Don't just listen to me. Say something," you begged. Your heart felt heavy. You heard him sigh. "I'd rather not y/n." You got goosebumps. "Jaemin, please. We can go to fucking library if that makes you feel better," you suggested, desperate for him to agree. After giving it some thought he finally answered you. "Okay fine. Tomorrow at three. But no longer than three hours."

He hung up, leaving you feeling a tad bit better. You looked forward to the next day. Hopefully, he wouldn't act indifferent to you.

Jaemin sat in your usual spot at the library. He was on his phone, leg crossed over his lap leisurely. You walked up to him and took a seat beside him without a word. Seeing you had arrived, he put his phone away and turned to you. "What are we studying?"

You took out your books and opened them. "This."

Jaemin glanced over the material. No wonder you'd flunked your test. He sighed, placing the textbook between you two. Without wasting a second, he began tutoring you.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't pay attention. You were too busy staring at his face, more specifically his lips. They way he'd lick them ever so often made butterflies soar in your stomach. He'd run his hand through his fluffy hair and adjust his glasses, letting your mind run wild. Jaemin didn't seem to notice your lack of focus. You figured he didn't really care. He kept glancing at his watch. It was like he was waiting for your time with him to come to an end.

Much to your dismay, eventually it did.

"I'll send you a picture of some practice material. You can use that to prepare better," he concluded, getting up from his seat. You quickly stuffed your books in your bag and ran after him.

"Jaemin wait!"

He paused. "What," he asked as he turned around. He sounded disinterested. "Can we talk," you asked? Jaemin sighed and shrugged. "What do you wanna talk about," he questioned, placing his hands in his pockets. "About what happened at my place last week."

Jaemin tensed up. "It was a mistake. I think we both understood that."

You shook your head. "I don't know Jaemin, I'm not sure I did."

He furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"The more I thought about it the more I realized that I wouldn't have kissed you unless I wanted to. Not just that but you wouldn't have let it go so far if you thought it was wrong."

He seemed at a loss for words.

"When you called me cute, you did mean it in an 'I have a crush on you' type of way." You didn't need an answer for him to know you were correct.

"What are you trying to say y/n," he asked, sounding defeated.

"That I like you," you admitted. Jaemin's eyes widened. "And that you like me too," you added.

Jaemin bit his lip. "Okay, so then why were we acting like we hated each other for so long?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because you overthink everything and I'm a big pussy."

Jaemin chuckled and slung his arm around your shoulder. "I'm sorry about that babe."

You cringed at the nickname. "Don't 'babe' me. We're not dating. Not yet."

Jaemin rolled his eyes. "Does it really need to be that formal?"

You nodded adamantly. "Of course it does."

He sighed. "Fine. Will you go out with me y/n?"

You smiled and shook your head. "I'd rather not Jaemin."

"Yeah whatever," he said with a scoff, leading you outside.

As soon as you were past your door Jaemin's lips were on yours in an instant. He pushed you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. You held onto his shoulders, sighing into his mouth. "I missed you so fucking much," he muttered, stumbling to your room.

He dropped you on your bed and hovered over you, staring down at you somberly before kissing you again. His lips didn't stay on yours for too long, trailing down to your jaw and then your neck. You tugged at his shirt, urging him to take it off. When he did, you stared at his chiseled body in awe. "I didn't know you worked out."

Jaemin chuckled at your comment and pulled your own shirt off. He flicked the tiny bow on your bra with an amused grin. "This is cute."

You nudged his arm timidly. "I wasn't exactly preparing myself for this moment."

He said nothing further and latched his lips to your neck once again. Running your fingers through his hair, you craned your neck to the side to give him more access. He gently sucked on your skin, not too harsh that it would leave marks. You sighed and fiddled with the waistband of his sweatpants. "Do you want it off," he asked quietly, lips ghosting over yours. You nodded, biting your lip when he pushed his pants down.

His member came into sight, making your mouth water.

Taking your hand in his, he brought it to his cock. Your fingers wrapped around his girth instinctively. Jaemin suck in a breath as he made you stroke his length. His hand slipped past your panties, fingers toying with your clit. You gasped and spread your legs wider, loving the way his calloused fingertips felt. Tightening your grip around his cock, you jerked him off earnestly. In turn, Jaemin began rubbing quick circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Letting go of his member, you hastily pushed your pants down your legs. Jaemin peeled your panties off of you, marveling at the sight of your glistening pussy. "Don't just stare," you complained, shutting your legs, "do something."

Jaemin wordlessly, spread your legs apart and settled down between your thighs. He glanced up at your through his lashes, asking for permission before licking a stripe up your folds. You pushed your hips against his mouth, eyes falling shut when he repeated the action. Holding onto your thighs, he nipped and sucked at your clit, groaning every time your bucked your hips into his face. You gripped onto his hair, tugging at his roots. Jaemin's fingers prodded at your slit, slowly entering your walls. He curled them up, making your arch your back in delight. It felt so good. He knew exactly what he was doing.

With his tongue skillfully moving over your clit and his fingers continuously pumping in and out of you, it didn't take long for you to feel a familiar knot in your stomach. You sat up, pulling his mouth off of your cunt. "I need you to fuck me now." Your voice was hushed, breathless because of how much you'd moaned. Jaemin's eyes had darkened considerably. He pushed you down on your back again and pressed his tip to your entrance.

Jaemin felt bigger than he looked. Not that you were complaining or anything, it just took a while to get used to. He made sure you were comfortable before slowly starting to pound into you.

You grabbed his arms as he fastened his pace, head falling back in ecstasy. Shallow breaths left his parted lips. "You feel so good," he muttered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was hot on your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, humming in response. You were close. Jaemin could tell.

Gripping onto your waist, he went faster, slamming his cock into you as he chased your highs. You cried out his name, squeezing your eyes shut. Your walls clenched tightly around his length, your orgasm crashing down on you intensely. Soon enough, he twitched inside you. His thighs stilled, hips snapping into you one last time before thick ropes of his cum shot into your walls. He let out a pleased groan, voice deep and raspy.

"That was amazing," you breathed, pushing your hair out of your face as Jaemin moved off of you. He smiled and tugged his pants back on, joining you under the covers. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." Jaemin pulled you into his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You laughed to yourself. "What is it," Jaemin asked. You shook your head, looking at him. "To think this all started after you agreed to tutor me."

tagging: @neosmutcollective @hoehousenet @kdiarynet @kafenetwork @nct-writers @ficscafe @whipped-kpop-creators @kpopscape

834 notes · View notes

goldenissues · 3 years ago

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bad girl-georgenotfound x reader

summary- you’re a role model student, but recently, you’ve been misbehaving. teacher! george takes things into his own hands and puts you in his place

warnings/notes- smut, swearing, violence?, female receiving, insults

high achiever. that’s what you were. with your kind smiles as you pass by, your top grades, and anything anyone could wish for. you were pretty much always presentable, pretty much always on time, pretty much organised and pretty much pretty. and on the rare days when you were late or forgot a piece of homework, nobody would batt an eye, you were too reliable to worry.

however, it might’ve been this week when people found a notable change in your behaviour. perhaps it was the scowl plastered on your face, the bumping into people- which was very much on purpose- or the changes in things that came out of your mouth.

though, you still did what you did before, it felt threatening to people. you still gave your smiles (even though they made people uneasy when you did now), and you looked presentable, that hasn’t changed.

“y/n, you’re late,” you heard a stern voice behind you as you crept into class. rolling your eyes, you turned to face the taller male-mr.notfound. “good morning sir, how are you? great! right now i’ve got to-“ a smile laid on your face as you sarcastically greeted the older.

“y/n” he sighed, running a veiny hand through his fluffy hair, making the not already perfect strands of hair even messier, “you were a perfect student before; high grades, modal behaviour, neat organisation. what happened?”

you fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead giving him a bigger smile. you hated hearing those words, it’s always ‘what happened?’, “nothings happened, sir. i’m not sure what you’re taking about,”

his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, hesitant to speak for a minute or two before replying with a simple, “whatever y/n, get to your seat, copy what’s in the board,”

you strutted out of class, on your way to the lunch queue when you got called midway from a familiar voice. “y/n,” you stopped in your tracks and huffed as you looked to the direction of the voice- mr. notfound. looking up with innocent eyes, “yes sir? is there something bothering you?” he gave a disappointed sigh, punching the bridge of his nose, “you know what’s wrong. it’s a shame, you’re well behaved in everything, yet you can’t make sure your skirt isn’t so high,”

you crossed your arms, leaning all your weight onto one hip as you gave him the most annoyed look you could muster, “i don’t see why it bothers you so much, sir,” he raised a brow. you’ve never had a good view of mr. not found, especially because of the communication between you and him.

“unroll your skirt,” you glared at him, clearly annoyed at the interaction. still glaring at him, you rolled it up once higher. watching as his breath slightly hitched in his throat, he made eye contact with you again, his eyes holding an emotions you couldn’t quite uncover. “i’ve told you once and i’ll tell you again, unroll your skirt,” you brought a finger to your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “hm.. no”

“you’re such a bad girl..” mr. notfound muttered, continuing to look you up and down, it sent butterflies to your stomach. however you quickly got back into the right mind, ‘he’s your teacher y/n’, you thought.

“if i see you later with your skirt still so high, it’s going to be a punishment,” you huffed and carried on walking down the corridor, giving him no response.

perhaps you had simply forgot what he said. oh honestly, did it really matter that much? it was only a skirt length, it wasn’t your fault if people found it distracting, i mean it’s not your fault your so attractive. hah.

gliding your finger along the lockers as you headed to the changing rooms. bag trailing across the floor by the way you lazily wrapped your fingers around the strap. you were late to cheerleading again. wow, well done y/n, gold star! eh, you couldn’t care less. as you carelessly strutted down the corridor you unknowingly muttered about how senseless mr. notfound was, “i mean it’s not my fault i’m so hot-“

“tsk tsk, y/n l/n, what a bad little girl,” you stopped in your tracks from pure startles, shooting your head up to the voice, mr. notfound. no matter the effort you made to cover it, mr. notfound truly did frighten you, and the same could go for mr. wastaken. perhaps it was that they made you feel so small and intimidated that you tried to switch it, protesting to their orders.

“what are you doing here so late,” he asked, leaning against the wall with the poster that read “believe in yourself’. you swallowed your nerves in your throat you didn’t even know were there, “i was heading to cheer sir,”

the brunette looked you up and down, staring at your skirt and legs, before looking up to you with a disappointed sigh, “i see you haven’t fixed your skirt, what do you think mr. wastaken will think about this,”

you gulped, internally panicking and unsure of how to reply, “i’m not sure what you’re taking about sir,” you batted innocent eyes, smiling politely up at him. tutting, he leant back of the wall, rubbing his temple in irritation, “you’re so disobedient. i’m afraid you won’t be attending cheer today,”

suddenly, you furrowed your brows, “what? huh?” he grinned and walked closer towards you, close enough to hear his breathing, “you’ve got a detention,” his husky voice spoke into your ear. god his voice made your face as red as a cherry.

“why?” there wasn’t really a point in asking why, you had been gone downhill for the last few weeks: not following orders, turning up late to lessons, being rude and sarcastic. “come on,” mr. not found started walking down the hall, you following close behind.

you were angry, you didn’t like school, but the only things keeping you going was cheerleading, no matter the times that you pretend to hate it. school is shit, you hate it and everything about it: the rules, the students, the lessons, the food, the teachers -well, mr. notfound and mr.wastaken certainly didn’t bat your eye.

yeah you hated them, how they were constantly telling you off, but god they were hot. sometimes you so desperately want them to bend you over their desks and fuck you till you can’t remember your own name.

anyways, you were in a bad mood, you had been looking forward to cheer (even though you were running late) and mr. notfound had to ruin it. huffing and puffing, you glared at any walking students. one girl walked past, looking so fucking happy, and you decided this was the right time to ruin her mood just like yours has been ruined. stopping in your tracks as she stopped at her locker, you yelled at her, “that skirt is so fucking ugly makes me want to puke, are you thick in the head or what?”

“y/n.” the man called sternly, giving you a look to stop. well, that look turned to annoyance once you flipped him off. taking a step closer to the girl who already looked upset, “aw, you gonna cry?” you sarcastically asked, giving a fake look of aw, “pathetic little bitch,”

“y/n, stop it. come over-“ “shut the fuck up sir, i’m not going to your stupid little detention,” turning to glare at him, gritting your teeth, only to earn a look of amusement. “oh so you find this funny? bitch,”

mr.notfound gave you a long, hard stare -intimidatingly long, before striding beside the girl and bending down slightly to her eye level. you watched with a weird feeling coursing through you as him and the girl talked about something, the girls face turning red as a tomato. it wasn’t a surprise really- almost every girl in this school had a crush on him, and well, you couldn’t say anything bad as you were one of those girls.

it wasn’t your fault when you swung at her after she gave you a cocky smirk. she grabbed her cheek, gasping dramatically, before forcing tears out of her eyes. “you little bitch!” you screamed, hitting her again. you didn’t stop trying after sir picked you up with force and pulled you away further down the corridors.

as he frustratedly headed to his office, you couldn’t help but think about how it felt being carried by him. yeah you had done something bad, but god this felt good.

“why can’t you just behave?” he muttered through gritted teeth. you didn’t answer, didn’t think it was your time to talk, didn’t think it was the right moment to give him a bitchy answer. “you were such a good girl before, now you’re punching people as they walk by,”

“i’m sorry sir,” you replied as he sat you down on his desk, walking over to his cupboard. you really were sorry, you didn’t know what had gotten into you recently. though you were sorry, you didn’t regret anything.

as you watched sir rummage through his cupboard, eyebrows furrowed, a trickling down your lower face had become incredibly noticeable. brushing your hand over your nose, you were met with blood -fuck, a nose bleed. it was probably when the girl swung back, but you didn’t notice it. mr. notfound walked over to you with a box of tissues in his hand. leaning in, he grabbed your chin and held tightly as he brushed the soft tissues over the blood. something about this sent a flutter between your legs; perhaps it was his concentrated face mixed with anger, or maybe it was the way he handled you, the way he touched you.

“you’ve been naughty,” he breathed out. breath so close to my neck that it sent butterflies to my stomach, “gonna have to punish you,” the look on his face told you he wasn’t kidding, and the way he didn’t move away from you to put the tissues in the bin, just throwing them into it from where he was.

silence is what surrounded the room, your faces inches away from each other, hungry looks on both. the only thing that broke the silence through time was the breathing that became heavier. and as he smashed his lips onto yours, you kissed back. it was hot, needy, it felt perfect. the messy movement of his lips on yours left you whining in his mouth.

“fuck, you don’t realise what you do to me,” he pulled away slightly, still practically sharing breath. you felt his hand land on your thigh, before feeling him rub it in a circular motion with his thumb. he kissed you again, open mouth, if it was anyone but him you would’ve been grossed out, but god he made this so hot.

you couldn’t imagine what someone would think if they walked in whilst you were messily making out, his hand on your chin grasping tightly with the other massaging the skin on your thigh. he pulled away again, kissing at your face, “the way you prance around in this tiny skirt, you make me so horny, i bet you make everyone else feel like this as well,”

you shook your head, “no sir, only for you, all for you,” as he kissed and sucked at your neck, you felt his smirk plastered on his face against your skin.

you moaned as he sucked at a certain piece of skin, “can’t keep quiet, want everyone to hear how much of a slut you are?” you wasn’t sure how to respond, if you were to say no you would be lying. you wanted people to hear how you were making out with your teacher, you wanted to make the girls jealous. so, all you could do was timidly look away from his gaze.

you gasped as you felt a strong hand grab your black tie and yank it towards him, snapping you to look in his eyes, “look at me when i’m talking to you,” george gravely quipped, glaring at you.

out of nowhere, you felt the sudden urge to be a brat again, not the smartest idea but it would be interesting, “i don’t want to look at you,” you snarked back, watching as his eye brows furrowed and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. hand still tight on your tie, forcing you to painfully look up from the height and the difference of you sitting and him standing over you. “stand up.” he demanded

“no.” suddenly, you felt a harsh slap to your cheek, before your face was pulled up to be inches away from his,

“fucking stand up brat,” his tone was deep and husky, it awoken something inside you. but, being the stubborn person you are, you shook your head. he yanked you up by your waist, then slammed you against the nearest wall.

his warmth engulfed you as he so quickly slammed his lips back onto yours, spreading through you like an infectious disease, however, this disease would be one you want to never leave. he pulled you closer to him from your waist, leaning burning fingerprints every inch his hands touched.

this kiss was not much different from the ones just before, but for some strange reason, this one felt more forceful, daring, one that got you more worked up. as he attached his lips to your neck, quickly exploring more and more of your body, you were well aware you were not leaving that room without bruises. despite being as aware of it as can be, you couldn’t help but want to carry on being bratty.

and as the buttons to your shirt came undone annoyingly slow, you became more and more impatient. “hurry up, if you can’t teach well atleast be able to make me feel good,”

he pulled away, still close enough you could feel every exhale, so close you watched his jaw clench and face so desperately trying not to show just how angry he was right now. it was peculiar that you still persisted to stay bitchy, there really was no need for you to act like this, and you both were fully aware, but you wanted to rile him up, wanted him to know you don’t give up easily, wanted him to earn this from you. in hindsight, that was probably it the brightest idea and you you became aware of that the longer he started into your eyes.

“oh i’ll make you feel good,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “and you’ll fucking like it, so don’t tell me to hurry up,”

with that, he pulled your shirt off, hands immediately going to your back, desperately fiddling with the clasp off your bra as you innocently looked up at him, acting like you weren’t just pissing him off, “your so fucking annoying,” he murmured, the clasp loosening as he pulled the fabric down your arms, leaning you bare chested.

“your acting like i don’t turn you on just by walking around school sir,” you retorted, as he rolled one of your nipples through his long fingers, smiling sweetly whilst he scoffed, however mesmerised by how beautiful you looked.

“remember what you’re saying whilst you’re begging to cum and i say no,” he whispered into your ear, before moving his mouth to circle his tongue around your other nipple, and both of you noticed the goosebumps that covered your skin in that few seconds.

right as you were about spit another retort, syllables falling down your throat and being replaced with a choked moan as you felt his hands sneak their way under your short skirt that pretty much started this whole thing.

gripping your thighs, taking in exactly how the skin felt with his hands over them. you felt your heart almost beat out of your stomach as you felt a hand get closer to your leaking heat, barely covered by your damp panties. “and with how your acting your probably not wet right now. isnt that right?”

and you couldn’t mange to say a word as you felt his middle finger run over your panties, barely ghosting your clit, leaving you wanting more contact. his pointer finger caught onto the side of the fabric, pushing it aside, leaving just enough space for his middle finger to feel the juices that so guilty poured out of you. his touch felt so cold compared to your heat, leaving you so embarrassed as he coats his finger in you before slowly pulling away, catching your eyes with a smug smirk whilst doing so.

“oh? oops,” he chuckled, “looks like i was wrong,”

without a second to respond, his fingers shoved themselves inside you, leaving you whimpering from sudden pleasure. you almost collapsed if it wasn’t for him holding your waist with one hand as he roughly pumped them in and out of you, leaving lewd noises to spill out of your lips. drops of wetness spill down your thighs, he still persistently works his magic through your wet underwear, thumb sneaking to rub tight circles on your clit. and you couldn’t stop yourself as a moan left your red lips, music to his ears, and his smug smile grew bigger. you can’t help letting out noises when he made you feel this good, but of course, you couldn’t let him know that, couldn’t let him know that he made you feel heavenly. everytime he pumped his fingers, everytime they subtly brushed over your clit, it left you twitching.

s-sir, sir fuck! please i’m-!” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before his fingers ripped out of you, the pleasure disappearing into thin air, taken from you. as you stare at him, your hands having a mind of their own, moving down to your heat out of instinct, but being grabbed and pinned above your head before you could reward yourself with pleasure.

“don’t you fucking dare. what happened to the brattiness? you come when i give you permission,” both of you are well aware that you’re brattiness has been taken away from you when you don’t reply, just look into his eyes and nod, swallowing your nerves. and that’s when his smirk grew bigger, he loves this.

you watch as he unbuttons his dress shirt, throwing it pulls and he pulls his trousers and boxers down, exposing his throbbing, sizeable cock that sent a pit to your stomach. his eyes catch sight of you as your practically drooling over him, and he does nothing but smirk as your eyes meet.

“get on a desk, all fours, unless you don’t want to be pleasured,” and you comply, pulling your panties and skirt down leaving you in nothing but a tie and thigh highs, climbing onto a desk, legs trembling. you watch as he unbuttons his dress shirt, throwing it off and he pulls his trousers and boxers down, exposing his throbbing, sizeable cock that sent a pit to your stomach. his eyes catch sight of you as your practically drooling over him, and he does nothing but smirk as your eyes meet.

he moved behind you, “i won’t be gentle,”

SORRY I DIDNT FINISH IT. i started writing this months ago but now i’ve kinda left the fandom and i’m never gonna finish this so here it is. you can imagine the rest.

new obsession: it (novel and book) ✅

new person to obsess over: jaeden martell 😍😍

i’m probably gonna post it oneshots and maybe stranger things fluff.

#georgenotfound smut #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dream smut #sapnap #minecraft #streaming #youtube #smut #mcyters #mcyt smut

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salt-volk · 2 years ago

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re "tbh pretty sure anji just lied about the whole "monthlies and customs only take 10% of my workload" bit because there is no way that is true with absolute NOTHING to show for that supposed other 90% like....."

idk i actually do genuienly believe her (moslty bc 4-6 custom items taking an entire month or even more than 2 days for a 10yr+ professional mostly full time artist just seems impossible to me esp seeing how quickly she does shit on stream & knowing other artists myself haha. no comment on the monthlies since even if they did hold up site progress they cant just be paused as thats the sole revenue for dv so moot to talk abt as an option but id ALSO guess those dont take an entire month or even over a week, esp w how theres always small boring items included w only a few complicated each batch) but like i think was brought up before, i agree the main problem is that all that stuff is one time scheduled release but other content is nearly ALWAYS larger bundles together.

its easier + quicker to do a few art than an entire event. customs are published once their done. but general site content is made dependent on a bunch of other shit ("X item is complete but will have to sit here for month until the other 15 items are done" "Y item is finished but we have to get ahold of our barley functional coder & wait 2 mo. on writing before it can come out"). so stuff like custom queue stays chugging along doing a lil bit here & there while main site content releases are always MASSIVE drops w a bunch of shit all at once to the point that its overwhelming.

there is plenty to show for the other 90% of time they just dont show it at the right times or in the right way bc they put all the stuff together (OR also could be all their time gose into shit that isnt easily visible like background management work or now that anjis trying to learn code to pick up slack she could be spending more time w that which has no visible site progress). fr we spend all our time waiting around for shit to drop not bc progress isnt actually getting done or bc one thing is takign up all the resources but just bc staff just does not know how to do little teasers or small events or small content resleases.

again this all comes down to management issue & site direction. probaly also a community advisor of sorts. which they lack. but could tell them "you dont have to put these items together or drop them w an update. the users do not care". or "you do not have to waste months coming up w grand vision of new event types multiple times a yr i promise you can just do the same thing & nobody will care" haha

which to be clear this is totally their fault & i dont understand the compulsion to always have to have like 85 new items come out simultaneosly as part of one update instead of just slowly drip feeding to at least help w the illusion & create more of feeling of constant content stream -_- i still dont have all the shit from those last two big updates w the stupid circlets & just gave up bc its to hard to keep track of...

oh worm they releasde new event info while iasw writing this. how much do you wanna bet some of the event content will be stuff that could have been seperated & dropped on its own but was just grouped together? even having the first custom auction w the event... that could have been its own thing tbh. released sooner since is not being held back waiting on a bunch of other shit to complete. have a feeling the mini town could have been out on its own too. lord

#anonymous #mod yoshi #staff #customs #events

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Flatmates - Harry Styles

i listened to kiwi while writing it so i strongly advise to listen to is while reading as well. without any further ado, i present you this flatmate!harry fic with some steamy smut!

word count: ~9k

warning: smut

masterlist

You were desperate to find a place to live, to say the least. You’ve always had trouble remembering deadlines and important dates, and thanks to this charming trait of yours, you successfully missed the deadline of the college dormitory applications. After a day of solid panic you started looking for cheap apartments, but living off campus seemed to be something only rich people could afford. Rents were ridiculously high and you were certain you couldn’t afford to spend thousands of dollars for a room smaller than your pantry back at home. You watched ad after ad, making calls all day for a week straight, but at the end, you always went to bed with the thought that you’ll have to live under a bridge through the first semester of your freshman year.

It was until a friend of yours, Rita, who was mature enough to apply to the dormitory in time called you with the best news you could receive.

“This friend of my future roomie is looking for a flat mate. You gave me his number, maybe you could give him a call and see if the room is still available. Just tell him Kimberly gave you his number, I’m sure he’ll offer you the room on a nicer price.”

“Oh my God, you just saved my life!” you gasped, almost feeling like crying. “I owe you big time, Rita!”

You called right away, not wanting to waste any time and maybe have the room already rented by then. A deep, male voice answered the call in a soothing British accent.

“Harry Styles,” he said in a calm tone.

“Hey! My name is Y/N and I got your number from Kimberly. I’m looking for a place to live from September and I was told you have a room to rent?”

Harry sounded a little hesitant at first, asked a few questions about you to have a better picture of you, but eventually offered the room. You quickly agreed that you’d be able to move in at the end of August. You were thankful you had one less worry about school finally.

August rolled around the corner faster than you expected and in no time, half your life was packed up into boxes and suitcases as you and your dad drove two hours on a Saturday to get you all settled in your new home. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen Harry just yet. Though you did search up his name, but he was the kind to never post about himself, but mostly about guitars, landscapes and animals. His Instagram was dry, no trait of what he looked like or even the slightest hint about himself. There was only one photo that featured the outline of a guy, which makes it clear that the person was fully naked, no trace of any clothes hanging on his body, but it was completely dark, so nothing could be really seen. However the tag on the figure made you think it wasn’t him, so it didn’t matter. His Facebook seemed even sadder, barely any posts, not even a decent profile picture. You were surprised to see there are people who don’t really use social media, but you didn’t take it as a bad sign. Harry must be a private person and you had nothing against that.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to move in with a guy you’ve never met before?” your dad asks as the two of you are unloading the car in front of the apartment complex. Glancing up you shrug your shoulders with a little excitement, knowing that you are only minutes away from finally seeing the person you are gonna spend your next months living with.

“He sounded like a decent person, and I really don’t have any other choice, dad. Or do you want me to sleep in a park or something?”

“God, no. You really should be more careful about those deadlines next time,” he sighs kissing the top of your head before shutting the back of the car once everything is set on the ground.

“Don’t worry, I already bought a calendar so I can keep better track of everything.”

When you first told your parents that you’d be living with Harry, they didn’t seem to be a fan of the idea, but they realized you weren’t really swimming in options at the moment so they eventually come to peace that their daughter is going to be living with a guy. They didn’t make a big deal out of it, knowing well you were an adult now practically who can make choices for herself.

The two of you manage to bring everything up to the third floor and you ring the doorbell since you don’t have your keys yet. You immediately recognize Harry’s British accent as he calls out a “coming!” from the other side of the door and a few seconds later it opens, revealing him.

Your first thought is that he is tall. Very tall and oh my! How handsome! His green eyes find your gaze and his dimples come out as he smiles at you happily. This man is surely a nice sight, you think to yourself, but you quickly bring yourself back to reality as he takes a look at all the stuff surrounding you.

“Y/N, why didn’t you call me that you were here? I could have helped you!” Taking a step outside he stretches his hand out for your dad. “Nice to meet ya, you must be Mr. Y/L/N. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you,” your dad nods at him shaking his head before Harry grabs a box from the floor himself, holding the door open for you.

“Come on in!”

The three of you quickly bring everything inside from the hallway and you finally have a moment to look around. It’s not a big apartment, but seemingly perfect for two people. Walking in you have a small kitchen on the left and a little dining area on the right with a simple table and four chairs around it. Further inside is the living room, it’s nicely furnished very bright thanks to the large windows across the front door. On the left there’s a door that leads to the bathroom and on the right there’s a small hallway, two doors on each side. The two rooms are exactly the same size, so there was no need to have a discussion about who is getting which room. Not that you were gonna go against Harry when he literally saved your life with letting you stay with him.

The place seems tidy and neat, it’s clear that Harry takes good care of his home and that is for sure a relief.

Your room has a double bed, a desk with a chair, a dresser and a built in little closet. Everything is white or a light beige color, nothing extreme and you already have plans about how you want to decorate it to make it cozier.

“I left two shelves free for you out of the three. I have a few hair products, but I figured you’d need more space,” Harry tells you when you put a smaller box into the bathroom that has all your toiletries.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

Your dad sticks around a little longer helping you unpack some of the bigger boxes, then you walk him down to his car before he leaves.

“Please call your mother often. You know how much she worries about you,” he asks as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“Will do.”

“And call us anytime you need help. Two hours is not that far away, I can always come and get you.”

“I’ll be alright, dad, but thank you.”

You watch him climb into the car and he rolls down the windows waving in your way as he leaves from the parking lot. You stand there until he disappears on the corner and then go back up to your apartment.

Harry is sitting in the living room when you get back, some quiet music playing from the Bluetooth speaker as he reads a book. He glances up at you and you flash him a smile closing the door behind you.

“Your dad seemed quite okay with you living with a guy.”

“He had time to get used to it. They’re not that strict though.”

“That’s cool. I was thinking, maybe we could order some food when you’re done unpacking and just get to know each other a little more.”

“That sounds great!” you smile, but can’t ignore how fast your heart is beating in your chest. Harry surely has an effect on you that you’ll need to gain control over if you don’t want to make living together hard for yourself.

It takes quite some time to unpack everything and find the right place for your stuff, you don’t even finish by the time the food arrives so you decide to leave the rest for tomorrow.

The Chinese food is all set on the table when you walk out and Harry is getting two plates for the two of you.

“Settled in?” he asks as you take one of the chairs and he sits across you.

“Not fully, but I’m getting there,” you chuckle as he hands you your order. “Thank you.”

You talk over the food, just getting to know each other and you finally get a better picture of Harry. It’s his third year of college, he is studying music and pedagogy, intending to one day use music as a helping tool for kids who have learning difficulties. He is a big fan of collecting vinyls and quite passionate about trashy rom coms.

“Really?” you chuckle when he mentions how his Netflix queue is filled with romantic movies.

“Guilty pleasure,” he nods smirking.

You tell a little about yourself too and he seems genuinely interested, which feels nice. You would have hated if he found your interests boring and negligible, but that’s not the case.

“How come you couldn’t find a roommate for so long?” you ask the question that’s been in the back of your mind for quite a while now. Both of you are done eating and you’re cleaning up the table.

Nothing really stood out about Harry just yet, it’s quite a mystery for you why he couldn’t find someone to live with him.

“Well, you could say I’m a little picky in this field. Lived with my best mate first year, and though I absolutely love him, he was horrible to live with. Felt like his personal maid the whole time. When Niall moved in with his girlfriend and I had to move on my own I promised myself I would choose carefully. Lived with a PhD student last year, he was pretty great, but he moved out when he graduated, and I couldn’t really find someone I liked since then.”

“Glad I passed then,” you chuckle as you take the dishes and start washing them while Harry stands next to you, leaning against the edge of the counter.

“You seemed like a decent person to live with, I hope I won’t be wrong about that,” he chuckles, but you can tell he is still a little scared you might turn out to be a total asshole.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be too much trouble. I’m quiet like a mouse and clean up after myself.”

“That’s all that matters,” he smiles. “Alright, I have some things to finish, I’ll be in my room if you need help with anything.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

He waves in your way before disappearing in his bedroom.

You spend most of your Sunday unpacking what was left and running errands, buying groceries so you don’t have to go to the store every other day during the week. You occasionally meet Harry in the kitchen or the living room, but you both just do your own thing and it’s totally fine by you.

School starts quiet smoothly, Harry was kind enough to give you a rundown of where you’ll find your lecture halls so you don’t really get lost around campus, easily finding your way.

Friday afternoon you and Rita are sitting at a café near campus to discuss the first week of school. You don’t have any classes together, so only grabbed lunch two times all week, but didn’t have more than twenty minutes together before one of you had to run to a class. Now you are both comfortably sat in a booth with two cappuccinos and plenty of time to talk.

“So, how is living with Harry?” she curiously asks.

“He is great! Though we don’t meet that much. He has a band so he has practice three times a week, spends the rest of his time at home reading or watching TV.”

You ate dinner together twice this week, but you haven’t really had the courage to join him in the living room when he was watching TV. It sounds stupid but you figured maybe it would bother him if you were out there with him. And since he didn’t invite you either, you just stayed in your room mostly.

“Kimberly told me he is hot, is that true?” she asks with a smirk as she takes a sip from her hot drink. You immediately feel your cheeks heating up.

“Well, he surely is a good looking guy,” you breathe out.

“Lucky you! There’s not much of those in an all girls dorm,” she pouts and you chuckle. “So are you gonna make a move on him?”

“That’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head laughing.

“Why not?”

“Because we live together and if he rejects me that would be so awkward for the rest of our time living together.”

“But you can’t know for sure if he would reject,” she points out, but she can’t bring up one thing that would change your mind.

“It’s better not to take the odds. I don’t want to end up on the street.”

As the days go by, things start to get busier in your everydays. Assignments and papers start to pile up so you have to start working on them if you don’t want to leave everything to the last moment. You become a regular in the library, the atmosphere is great for you to get into the flow and get a lot of work done.

It seems like Harry is in the same shoe, he is often in and out of the apartment, sometimes only spends home just a couple of minutes before he leaves again. However they slowly get accustomed to each other, learn the ways the other likes things and work up a schedule for things. Harry learns that Y/N likes to take a shower twice a day and washes her hair usually on Wednesdays and Sundays, so he doesn’t try to take too much time in the bathroom on those days. He also notices how she doesn’t have time to wash the dishes after herself on Thursdays when she just runs home to have a quick bite before she has to leave for another lecture, so they came to a silent agreement where Harry cleans up after her on Thursdays while she takes up on the dishes on Saturday when Harry leaves to band practice at eight.

They work well together and soon enough all of Harry’s doubts about Y/N fade into nothing and he realizes he has made the right choice with her.

Usually she stays at the library until seven on Mondays, but this week they are closing early because they are rearranging a whole department, so Y/N leaves a little after five. She pays a quick trip to the grocery store before she heads home. Opening up the door she immediately hears the music playing, one of Harry’s vinyls is twirling around in the record player and she hears the water running in the bathroom. Setting her bags on the counter she starts unpacking the groceries.

The music and the running water pushed the sound of her arriving down, Harry didn't realize that you were home early when he opens the bathroom door, singing to himself wearing absolutely nothing as he wants to go and grab a pair of clean underwear, but he is shocked to see you standing in the kitchen.

“Shit!” he snaps, hands immediately flying to cover himself as he sprints back to the bathroom quickly grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

Your cheeks are heating up immediately even though you didn’t see anything you weren’t supposed to, the counter top covered him just right above the critical line, but it’s the first time you’ve seen his upper body completely naked.

Even though it was just a spit second, the sight of his many tattoos and the defined V-line leading down to his crotch burned straight into your mind, leaving you flustered and shy all of a sudden.

“Sorry! I should have let you know I was coming home early!” you call out turning around, as if he was about to walk out naked again. Harry chuckles lightly as he returns, this time a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t be silly, you don’t have to check in when you come home. It was my fault, I shouldn’t just walk around naked assuming you wouldn’t be home.”

You should, you think to yourself gulping as you turn around and dare to look at him again. You don’t see less than just a few seconds ago, his chest is glistening from the dampness, his curls are still wet and you are having a hard time not to stare at the tattoos on his lower stomach, so you busy yourself with the rest of your groceries as he walks into his room and returns in a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt.

“Any plans for the weekend?” he asks disappearing in the bathroom, but he leaves the door open and you hear him shuffle around, probably fixing up his hair. He uses some kind of mousse that keeps his curls perfectly and also happens to smell like mango and some kind of citrus.

“Um, not really.”

“We’re playing at this bar with the band, wanna come and watch us?” Walking out of the bathroom he switches the light off before walking to the couch and opening up his Netflix account on the TV. His invitation surprises you, but it also feels nice he wants you there.

“Oh, sounds fun! Can I bring someone?”

“Of course! I can have a table reserved for you, if you’d like,” he smiles at you before turning his attention to the screen.

“That would be great, thanks.”

You feel like after your little encounter it’s probably not the best day to join him at the TV, especially because you can’t stop yourself from blushing every time you look at him. The sight of his naked torso pops up in your mind every time and there’s no way you can just casually sit on the couch with him without your body lighting up on fire.

Rita is excited when you tell her about the invitation, you don’t even have to convince her to go with you since she is dying to finally meet Harry. When he leaves in the early afternoon on Saturday he assures you that there’s gonna be a table reserved under your name, and off he goes to practice, leaving you alone for the rest of the day since he tells you he won’t be back before the concert tonight. Rita comes over around six and the two of you get ready together.

“You have to wear something spicy,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you while you sit at your desk applying mascara to your lashes.

“I don’t want to overdress, it’s just a bar.”

“Yeah, but Harry invited you. I bet he wants you to see him play.”

“Of course he wants, why else would he invite me?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“You don’t get it,” she chuckles turning to you, hands on her hips. “He wants you to see him play because it feeds his ego. Maybe even turns him on.”

“Stop acting like there is anything between us. We are flatmates and that’s all.”

“I think he wants to be more, you’re just too pussy to make a move yourself,” she shrugs turning back to your closet.

“Stop calling me a pussy for not wanting to make it awkward for the two of us to live together. I’m pretty sure Harry doesn’t see me as anything more than just the person he lives with.”

“Then we have to change that. And I think this is the perfect dress for that.”

Rita pulls out a little black dress you bought about a year ago, but never really got around to wear it. It’s so tight, pushes your tits up way too much for your liking, you’re not even sure why you bought it in the first place.

“I’m not wearing that,” you shake your head.

“Are you afraid he might get a boner from you in it?”

“Rita!” you snap at her, but she just chuckles.

“Look, if you’re so sure he doesn’t want you like that, why does it matter what you wear?”

She has a point. It’s not like this dress will change anything and it would be nice to wear at least once in your life this stupid dress if you bought it.

Grabbing it from her hands you throw it to the bed and start undressing as she claps in victory.

You remembered right, the dress leaves close to nothing to the imagination when it comes to your figure. The fabric hugs your figure tightly, and you put on a lacy bralette that peeks out at the top of the dress, kind of covering some more from your skin, since the dress doesn’t do much in that field itself. Rita tries to convince you not to take a jacket, but you throw your denim jacket on, feeling the need to have something give you the slightest sense of being covered.

You arrive at the bar twenty minutes before the concert starts and it’s a good thing Harry reserved a table for you, because the place is packed. You’re not sure if it’s because of them or it’s just a regular Saturday evening.

The little stage is all set up, but you see no sign of Harry anywhere as the two of you settle at your table with a drink. Luckily, the bartender did not ask for an ID, he was too busy looking at your chest. At least there’s one good thing in this dress.

The drum set at the back has the name of the band on it and you smile reading it. The word ‘Stylish’ is printed on it with bold blue letters, referring to Harry’s last name, who is most likely the front man of the band.

The place is buzzing and the two of you enjoy being out at a bar concert. When the lights go down you finally spot him walking out of the back followed by a guy and two girls.

“Welcome, folks,” he greets the audience, his accent filling up the place over the chatters. A round of cheering answers him, making him smile. “Thank you for coming out tonight, we hope to entertain you in the next hour. Our name is Stylish and now let’s get down to business,” he smirks and just as he takes a step back from the mic, the band starts playing. Harry grabs a guitar himself before stepping back to the mic and then he starts singing.

They play a mixture of covers and original songs, the transition between them is so smooth you sometimes forget it’s a whole different song that’s playing. Harry is clearly enjoying the spotlight, his presence on the stage is so natural and capturing, you often catch yourself forgetting about the rest of the band.

One song follows the other and you don’t even realize how fast this hour passes by. Harry sometimes stops in-between songs, entertaining the audience with small jokes and just casually interacting with them.

“Our last song is up next, so let me take a moment to introduce the band,” Harry speaks into the mic while softly playing the guitar so it’s not completely quiet as he talks. “At the drums, the amazing and talented Sarah Jones!”

A round of applause fills the bar as Sara waves around smiling widely, before Harry moves on to the next member.

“Playing the piano, the wonderful Charlotte Clark!”

Charlotte plays a short melody on the keys matching up with what Harry has been playing, before she also waves at the audience.

“The guy who is a way better guitarist than me, Mitch Rowland.”

Harry’s comment makes the audience laugh and Mitch just nods shyly, a smile pulling on his lips under his mustache.

“And this handsome Brit who sometimes acts like a comedian,” Sarah starts leaning closer to her mic. “Harry Styles.”

It’s no surprise that Harry gets the biggest cheering and he smirks sweetly, his fingers still strumming on the guitar. The clapping and screaming slowly dies down and as Harry steps back to his mic they start the last song.

It’s quite an upbeat, funky song, you just can’t resist dancing around on your chair and seemingly Rita is enjoying herself as well, cheering with her beer in her hand. The song comes to an end and they all line up at the front of the stage bowing down together as the whole bar cheers on them as one person.

“Woah, this was… something else,” Rita breathes out once they disappear at the back and chatter fills up the place once again and the lights come back.

“They smashed it!” you nod in agreement. You figured they are good if they get asked to perform, but this was way beyond what you were expecting.

Looking around you are hoping to see Harry somewhere, but they must be celebrating somewhere at the back. Maybe he won’t even come out, you think to yourself as you finish up your beer.

“I’ll get us another round,” you tell Rita as you make your way to the bar.

There are quite a few people waiting to be served, so you squeeze yourself into the crowd and hope to get to the front soon.

“So how did you like it?”

You jump in surprise when you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind you, and turning around you see how close he is standing to you.

“Hi! I didn’t even see you sneak up on me,” you chuckle making him smile as he squeezes himself next to you. The two of you finally reach the front, but the bartender is serving someone a little on the left so you have to wait. “I loved it, you were like a proper rockstar up there!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and his dimples show up on his cheeks. The bartender finally gets to you and Harry is quick to order for the both of you. “’S probably better if I place the order since you’re not twenty one just yet.”

“Didn’t have any problem ordering the first time,” you smirk smugly and Harry raises his eyebrows at you before his eyes wander down your body for a second.

“I bet you didn’t in this dress.”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of how daring your outfit looks, so out of reflex, you pull your jacket tighter on yourself, Harry’s smile quickly fades as he realizes that he made you uncomfortable with his comment.

“I meant that you look really pretty. Definitely makes you appear a little older though.”

“My friend wanted me to wear it, I would have been fine with something else,” you admit as the bartender places your order in front of you and Harry pays for the whole thing.

“Glad she convinced you,” he grins down at you and you can feel your cheeks heating up once again.

He helps you carry the drinks to the table and Rita quickly puts her phone away when she sees who you are returning with.

“Harry, this is my friend, Rita. Rita, this is Harry,” you introduce them and Harry shakes her head smiling.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods kindly.

“Oh, same goes for you,” Rita smirks and you roll your eyes at her.

“I’ll go get the rest of the band, do you mind if we join you guys here? There are no empty tables.”

“Sure,” you nod smiling before the crowd swallows Harry.

“For fuck’s sake, you have to make a move on him, Y/N!” Rita turns to you as soon as he is gone.

“Would you stop?” you chuckle.

“No! This dude is so hot I forget my name when I look at him! And you live with him! You can’t miss this chance, Y/N.”

“I’m not missing anything. We live together, it’s not worth it.”

“Not missing anything?” Rita looks at you as if you were mental. “You are literally missing everything!”

“I’m done with this conversation,” you tell him just when Harry appears again, this time with two of his bandmates, Sarah and Mitch are following him smiling, hand in hand.

“Charlotte had to leave early, but this is Sarah and Mitch,” Harry introduces them as they join the two of you at the table. “And this is my flatmate, Y/N and her friend Rita.”

You all shake hands as Harry sorts out the extra beers he has ordered so everyone has a drink on their hand.

It’s no surprise, but Sarah and Mitch prove themselves to be just as cool as they seemed up on the stage. And the best thing is that they don’t shy away from sharing funny stories that include Harry.

“So have you been looking for a new place to stay, Y/N?” Mitch jokes. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of Harry by now.”

“Very funny,” Harry laughs at his bandmate’s comment.

“To be honest it’s pretty fine so far. He is a pleasant person to share your home with,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“What’s one thing you hate about living with him?” Sarah asks and Harry pretends to be hurt over the question.

“Who said there’s anything she hates?”

“Shush, I was asking her!” she hushes at him making you laugh.

“I really can’t point out anything in particular. Maybe he has been very careful, luring me into believing that he is the perfect flatmate so I get stuck with him.”

You stay for a while, just chatting and having a good time until the bar starts to empty out and you decide it’s better if you head home as well.

“We have to take care of the equipment, are you leaving or do you want to wait for me?” Harry asks you.

“We’ll just call an Uber, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.

“Alright, see you at home.”

You say goodbye to Sarah and Mitch and part your ways with them as you and Rite head outside.

“I hope you noticed how Harry was looking at you,” Rita smirks at you when the two of you are sitting at the back of the Uber.

“What are you talking about?” you sigh leaning your head against the seat.

“I caught him staring at you quite a few times.”

“He was just probably looking at me when I was talking. Don’t try to talk something into it that’s not true.”

“Alright, I’ll stop,” she replies holding up her hands. “But I still think you are missing out on some amazing dick.”

You awkwardly glance at the driver who is hearing everything you say, but Rita seemingly doesn’t mind that you’re not alone.

“You know what? We should give Tinder a try.”

“What? Why?”

“If you don’t want to make a move on your hot flatmate, we need to get some satisfaction from others.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, you are not,” she chuckles. “But you will be when you match with the hottest guys on campus.”

You let Rita believe that she convinced you to sign up for Tinder, but you get out of the car with the intention of never downloading the app, like ever.

Walking into the apartment you grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties since your sleeping shorts are all dirty, but you were planning to do the laundry tomorrow. You decide it’s not a big deal and the shirt will probably cover enough of your body.

You take a quick shower to get off the thick smell of the bar that’s stuck on your skin, taking your time moisturizing yourself once you’re done. When you get dressed you see that the shirt does cover your bum, but if you lifted your arms up it surely shows a big portion of your ass, so you’ll have to be careful if Harry arrives.

You’re lounging on the couch watching a rerun of House M.D. and scrolling through your phone when Harry arrives.

“Hey there, rockstar!” you greet him teasingly and he just chuckles shyly.

“Is it gonna be my new nickname?”

“Well, you really were one tonight, so I think yes,” you nod making him laugh. Walking further inside his eyes stop on your bare legs and he is quick to notice that you’re not wearing any pants, like you usually do. You immediately tug on the end of the shirt to cover more of your skin, but it’s not really working.

“Ehm, I’ll go and take a quick shower,” he informs you before disappearing in his room first and then rushing into the bathroom.

Looking down at your attire you decide it’ll be better if you threw on some sweats. Harry clearly got a little uncomfortable seeing you so bare, so it’s better to cover up. You’ll just take them off when you go to bed.

Harry doesn’t take too long in there, and when he joins you on the couch you are pretty sure he took a cold shower since no steam followed him when he left the bathroom. His eyes flicker to your now covered legs, but he doesn’t say anything, just makes himself comfortable next to you.

“You like it?” he asks nodding at the TV.

“Yeah, he is such an asshole, but it’s funny,” you huff. “Hey, I took a few pictures tonight. Wanna see if you like any of them?”

“Sure,” he nods pushing himself up a little as you unlock your phone and show him the photos you took of him and the band while performing.

Some of them ended up really cool, you were able to catch the lights and their movements just the right way, especially one stands out where he was holding out a note, basically screaming into the mic, he really looks like a rockstar on that one.

“Can you send me this one?”

“Done,” you smile at him and glancing over you see that he opens the Instagram app on his phone. You watch him crop and adjust it a little bit, then tag his bandmates and finally, he posts it.

“Wow, this is the first picture on your page with you actually on it,” you tease him.

“So you’ve been stalking my profile?” he smirks at you.

“I wanted to check you out before I moved in, but your social media was no help in that.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of posting that much, but this was a cool picture.”

“It’s an honor to know that I took the first one featuring you.”

“Actually, this is the second one, but it is the first one where my face is visible,” Harry tells you before turning his attention back to the TV, but the gears start to turn wildly in your mind, trying to remember which picture could be the other one.

Later, when you’re lying in your bed with your door closed, you pull up his profile and stat scrolling down. Most of the pictures fall out, because they have absolutely no trace of any human being on them. But then you stop at the one that features a black silhouette of a man, the one you thought wasn’t him.

Opening up you tap on the tag and see that it leads to Mitch’s profile, but now that you’ve met him, you’re pretty sure it’s not him in the picture. So you take a closer look and as you go over the small details, like the line of his neck, how wide his shoulders are and the untamed curls, you soon realize that it is indeed Harry in the photo.

You push down a moan when realization sets in, because that means that you’re staring at the naked silhouette of Harry and it immediately starts a fire between your legs.

“Jesus,” you whisper as you let yourself stare at the photo a little longer. You weren’t expecting it, but it’s surely making you feel some kind of way.

Locking your phone you throw it to your nightstand before you bury your head into your pillow. You have to press your thighs together quite tightly to make the throbbing sensation stop so you can finally fall asleep. Well, it takes some time before that happens and it’s quite torturous.

Unlike how you planned, Rita finally gets you to download Tinder and give it a try. She helps you set up your profile, and though at first it feels incredibly awkward, you slowly adjust to being out there on the virtual market.

You start swiping left and right whenever you are bored during classes or you’re having a break from studying. Your matches start to pile up and soon enough you start getting messages as well. You reply to the ones you like or find funny and creative, giving them a chance, but not many end up going too far. Somehow the conversations always die down and you lose interest in the person.

Only one guy gets as far as asking you out and getting a yes as an answer. Jordan is a physics major and seemed like a nice and funny guy through the messages, good-looking too, so you decided to give it a go.

So Friday evening you dolled yourself up, put on a nice blouse with your favorite skinny jeans and black heels, ready to head out to your first ever Tinder date.

As you walk out of your room you find Harry in the kitchen in his basketball shorts and a simple black t-shirt making himself a cup of tea. The shorts are hanging low on his waist and as he reaches up to get the hones from the cupboard you get a glimpse of the soft skin on his lower waist. You quickly look away before you could have any further thoughts about what else is under the waistband of his shorts.

“Oh, where are you heading all dressed up?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“I actually have a date,” you admit nervously as you grab your keys and put it away in your purse.

“Lucky guy,” he smiles and you can feel your cheeks heating up again. There’s just something in the way he compliments you, it makes your knees go jelly.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later? I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” you tell him grabbing your jacket from the hanger next to the front door.

“Have fun,” he nods before you walk out.

Jordan proves himself to be quite frankly the same guy you got to know through messages. He takes you to this Mexican themed bar and you are just chatting over some exciting looking cocktails, but you find yourself zoning out sometimes.

What is Harry doing right now? Is he staying at home? I should have asked if he had any plans. Maybe he is hooking up with someone right now.

You find yourself thinking about way more than you probably should and it’s making you lose your shit. So maybe this is why, or because Rita told you to just go with the flow, but when Jordan asks if you want to go up to his place you say yes.

It’s as awkward and bad as you were expecting, unfortunately. There’s a reason why you don’t hook up with every random guy you go out with once. You are totally on different pages, but when you are lying under him on his bed, you just know there’s no way out.

It’s not that he forces you, because you’re sure he would have stopped if you asked, but it would be so awkward to just walk out because you weren’t feeling the vibe. So at least one of you should enjoy it.

You should deserve an Oscar for that orgasm you fake, it’s so believable. Jordan doesn’t seem to notice that you felt absolutely nothing, just frustration and impatience, he tries to make you stay the night, but you save yourself with a lie that you have to wake up early in the morning so it’s best if you head home.

Your frustration just grows on your way home. You were really hoping to get laid tonight, so maybe that could stop you from fantasizing about Harry, because your thoughts have been wild since you found out that he is the one on that Instagram picture. It doesn’t help that he has been walking around shirtless quite a lot.

Shameful or not, you even touched yourself once thinking about him. You were home alone after a particularly boring day so you thought you’d just get yourself off. Before you could realize where your thoughts have wandered, you were moaning his name as you came hard. You couldn’t look into his eyes that day when he came home, he probably thought you were nuts, basically running away from him.

It’s almost midnight when you get back home, you were expecting Harry to be asleep by now since he has band practice in the morning, but you are surprised to see light coming from his room. As you close the front door, kicking your heels off he walks out, of course, without a shirt, his glorious body on full display.

“Hey, how was your date?” he asks as you step to the fridge to get yourself something to drink. You’ve been so damn thirsty since Jordan was… done with you, you could have asked for some water at least, but you just wanted to leave as fast as possible.

“Ugh, don’t even ask,” you whine, leaning against the counter.

“That bad?”

“Worse,” you roll your eyes and Harry chuckles softly.

“Come on, it couldn’t be that bad if you came home so late.”

“Well, it did start off nice, but I shouldn’t have said yes when he asked if I wanted to go to his place.”

“Oh.”

“Worst sex of my life, I wanted out the moment we arrived, to be honest,” you honestly say, feeling a little weird that you’re talking to Harry about it, but you just want to get it off your chest.

“Then why didn’t you just leave?”

“Dunno, I just… I was hoping for just a little satisfaction, but I guess I asked for too much,” you sigh finishing up your water and you walk past him with the intention to grab your pajamas and have a shower that would wash away the happenings of the night, but Harry’s voice stops you.

“Not everything is lost just yet.” Turning around you give him a puzzled look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He bites into his bottom lip and lets his eyes travel down your body, his intent gaze sends a shiver down your spine. When his eyes return to your gaze your heart is wildly beating against your chest.

“I mean that… I can make you feel good, if you want.”

Your mouth hangs open and your eyebrows shoot up at the blunt offer he just made. At first you’re not even sure you heard him right, but as you replay his words you realize that you indeed heard him crystal clear.

“Are you messing with me right now?” you ask, feeling like it’s all just a joke. He did not just offer to satisfy you because you complained to him about how bad your date was.

Harry takes a few steps closer to you, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“Not really. You want to get off and I would love to be the one to help you with it.”

“But… we live together,” you say and realize how stupid this just sounded, but you hope he gets what you were trying to say.

“So? Does that mean we can’t fuck?”

The way he said that makes your legs go weak for sure. You’ve been fantasizing about things similar to this, but those were nowhere near to actually hear him propose the idea of fucking.

“But… it’ll be weird, won’t it?”

“Only if we make it.”

He walks closer, closing the distance between the two of you and he cups your cheek in his hand as his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but you already know you gave in. There’s no way you can say him no, not after weeks of dreaming about the exact same thing.

“Just stop thinking,” he tells you before pressing his lips against yours.

He kisses you hard and you gladly let his tongue push into your mouth within a second, kissing him back with the same passion. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands travel down on your sides until they reach your ass and they give it a bold squeeze, making you moan into his lips. You feel him grin as his hands move over to your thighs and he urges you to jump and so you do, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Though you keep your eyes closed, kissing him hard, you can tell he brings you to the couch, laying you down to your back, holding himself up above you. He starts kissing down your jawline and neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and you lift yourself up a bit so he can pull it off, throwing it away to somewhere behind the couch. While his lips are sucking on your breasts wherever they are bulging out from the lacy bra, his hands work fast on your jeans, undoing the button and the zipper, tugging them down until you can just kick them right off.

“Matching set? You were really counting on having a good time tonight,” he mumbles against your tummy as he kisses his way down on your body.

His right hand reaches up and cups your breast before it slides under you and easily unclasps your bra. You quickly slide the straps off and throw it to the side, so now you are lying under him only in your panties, whimpering and panting at every kiss he leaves on your body.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he hums glancing up at you, sitting between your legs as he slides just one finger over your soaking wet panties, running it along your throbbing center.

“Fuck, I want you,” you breathe out.

“How exactly do you want me?”

“Jesus, just eat me out, Harry!” you shamelessly moan and he smugly smirks before he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down, throwing it to the ground.

Now you’re lying completely naked in front of him, and he pushes your knees farther apart, looking down at you with lustful eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he growls as he gets closer and without a warning, he licks into you.

You moan in sensation as he starts sucking on your clit, his tongue working perfectly against your bud. Your hands find their way into his hair and you grab a handful of it in each. Oh, how many times you’ve thought about doing this!

“Harry!” you cry out when you feel him push a finger into you, slowly pumping it in and out a few times before he adds another to it. He quickly picks up his pace as he keeps sucking on your clit, getting you closer to your orgasm with every lick.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” you moan, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to even breathe.

“Cum for me, baby,” he mumbles against your wet clit and just a few more pumps later you came, screaming his name.

“Fucking hell, Harry!” you breathe out when he climbs up on you smirking.

“You think you can handle another one?” he asks, pecking your lips softly. Looking down you see how hard he is and even if you were on the verge of dying you would have said yes. There’s no way you let him get up from this couch unsatisfied after the orgasm he just gave you.

Instead of saying anything, you push on him until he is sitting on the couch and you have your knees on his sides.

“I think you are a little overdressed, aren’t you?” you ask teasingly as you bring a hand down to his erection, cupping it through his shorts and underwear.

Harry cranes his neck so his lips could meet yours again as he lifts his hips up, pushing his shorts down along with his boxers. You sit back down to his lap and his erection presses against your wet folds making you moan into his mouth.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you ask breathlessly, but Harry shakes his head.

“I would last, I just want to fuck you,” he growls and you swear to God that was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Condom, we need a condom,” you tell him, still kissing his lips.

You get off him and he quickly runs into his room, shortly returning with a condom between his teeth. He rips the package on his way and falls back to the couch, rolling it on carefully. When he is done you swing your leg over him and get on top again, holding onto his broad shoulders. He grabs the base of his cock and lines himself up to your center and you give yourself a moment to admire his naked beauty right in front of you.

You look into his sparkling eyes and leaning down you kiss him hard as you slowly ease down to his length, his cock slowly filling you up fully.

“Oh fuck!” he moans at the feeling of you around him. His fingers dig deep into your waist as you stay still for a few moments, adjusting to his length. “You alright?” he asks breathlessly. Your eyes meet his and you nod a little before you start moving.

It takes a few moments to find the right pace and get yourself comfortable, but when you finally do, you just can’t stop. His hands are on your ass as he guides your hips a little and you feel the rings on his fingers against your heated skin. He buries his face into your neck nibbling and kissing on the soft skin wherever he reaches.

“Fuck, you look so fucking hot, Y/N,” he grunts when you let your head fall back, feeling your orgasm slowly building up again.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum again,” you pant, picking up a faster pace, desperate for release.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me make you feel good!” he moans wrapping his arms around you as he holds you still, stopping you from moving, but instead he starts thrusting into you, his cock buries so deep into your pussy, your eyes roll back into your head from the feeling.

“Yes! Don’t fucking stop!” you scream as he keeps fucking you hard.

It doesn’t take too long until you fall completely apart and cum again, your legs basically turning into jelly. Just a few thrusts later Harry cums as well, thrusting deep into you a few more times as he moans into your neck.

You lie completely numb on him, his fingers gently stroking your naked back as you try to come back to reality. When you lean back and your eyes meet again you are still speechless.

“I’ve literally wanted it since the day you walked into this place,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Really?” you giggle shyly.

“Oh, really. Seeing you around, sometimes without a bra under your shirt completely killed me most of the time.”

Your cheeks are heating up, you didn’t think he noticed when you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Don’t be so shy, you have amazing tits, you are not allowed to wear a bra anymore around here,” he teases you grinning as you laugh and leaning down you kiss him shortly.

“I had quite a few fantasies about you too,” you admit making him raise his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Mhm, especially after you walked out of the bathroom naked, even though I didn’t even see your dick then.”

Harry chuckles lightly as he pushes his hair back from his forehead, resting his head against the back of the couch.

“So…” you shyly start, ”what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that… we live together and we just fucked. What does this mean for the future?”

“Well, I thought that next time we could do it the right way. I could take you out on a proper date, and then fuck you on the kitchen counter.”

You laugh at how blunt he is, but you love the idea he just proposed.

“Okay. Sounds fine by me.”

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