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crowsongcaws · 7 months ago

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(This inspired me to write from the moment I saw it back in May, but I only just finished writing this! Your art is amazing by the way, and hopefully this fic still makes sense even if it was patchily written across the span of two months!)

It was the day for Gem and the Scotts to make their first (actual, official) appearance when Scott's guitar amp broke.

He wasn't really living paycheck-to-paycheck, not with his full-time job at a gardening speciality store and his freelance web design work, but he wasn't exactly looking to drop a lot of money suddenly on an amp that he wouldn't know the quality of until the first gig later that night. So, much like when other things happened outside of his ability to fix them, he began to reach out to others.

"Sorry, Scott, me and Tango are out of town visiting his parents!" Jimmy said over the phone.

"Ah, my bad, I forgot about that," Scott sighed. "I've just got this gig tonight, and I've no clue what to do."

"Maybe you could ask Joel? He's been hanging out with that guy—you know, has the uh grey-ish hair, wears a face mask—"

"Etho," Scott reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah! Well Etho's good with that stuff. I don't think he'd mind!"

So Scott called Joel, who promptly said, "Nah, sorry, man. Eefo's been at some project all week and I just got him to go to bed. If I bring this up anywhere near him, he's going to run himself into the ground."

"Gods, I get that. I hope he's able to get some good sleep, but I really need this amp fixed. You wouldn't happen to have picked up any new skills recently, have you?"

"Even if I had, not gonna lie, I'm sticking around with Eefo to make sure he sleeps and eats better for at least today. Also, he sleeps so quietly."

Scott squinted at that and said, "He's at your house?"

"Why the fuck would he be at my house? I'm at his house. Lizzie's hanging out with her girlfriend, and I can't stand another night of her freight-train snoring."

Joel paused for half a second.

"Don't tell her I said that."

Scott snorted and rolled his eyes as if Joel could see it.

"Won't tell a soul," Scott dramatically replied. "Thanks for picking up, anyways."

"No problem. Bet you could try giving Grian a call, though. Not sure how much he knows about amps, but he does know a lot of people."

"Yeah, sounds about right for him. Thanks Joel, have fun with your date."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you must be jealous since it's just been you and righty—"

Scott hung up before he could get another word in, knowing that his one "innocent" jab at Joel would definitely have consequences later no matter how true the statement was.

He huffed at that, but the clock really was ticking, and he was beginning to actually get nervous. Without another thought, he phoned Grian, his heartbeat picking up every time the phone rang with no response. It wasn't until the last ring that Grian managed to pick up.

"Hey, Grian, do you know anyone who could help—" "Pearl has no idea what she's talking about, whatever she's told you is just not true—"

They both paused.

"What about Pearl—?" "You heard nothing."

Scott pursed his lips, and that itch to gossip grew, but at this point, he could feel the time ticking down.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Scott told him, "but whatever all of that is, it's not why I called. My first gig with my band is in a few hours, but the amp for my guitar broke. Do you know anyone who could fix it?"

Grian hummed (and, suspiciously, sounded very relieved. Scott would investigate it later) and said, "Guitar amp? Well I do happen to know someone who could help with that, and he owes me a favor. You're still in town, right?"

"Yeah, I am, I'll text you the address right now. I can't thank you enough, Grian, I was starting to get worried! You're the third person I've had to call."

"It's no problem! By the way, the person I'm sending to you is Mumbo, he's my flatmate. It shouldn't take too long for him to get to you, just add 10 extra minutes to whatever time you had in mind. He drives like the car will explode if he takes his hands off the steering wheel."

"As long as it doesn't take him hours to get here, I don't mind."

"It won't, it won't," Grian reassured him. "...Also... if Pearl happens to tell you anything—"

"—then I'll be sure to get some popcorn while she tells me everything, thanks for the heads-up! Bye!" And he hung up.

True to Grian's word, someone did eventually show up (15 minutes later than what he would've expected since the drive should've been 25 minutes long and not 40), and Scott vaguely recognized him. Grian's flatmate, yes, but also Grian's skittish partner in crime when he went trespassing, a friend of a friend that sometimes showed up to the field days that Grian liked to organize, and the person that had once knocked out the power for half the city (which, Scott figured, probably had something to do with Grian, too).

And he was devastatingly attractive.

"I am so sorry," Mumbo anxiously apologized. "I'm not familiar with the parking lot here, and I couldn't find a parking spot until just then!"

"Oh, it's not a problem, I'm glad you made it," Scott soothed, occasionally eyeing Mumbo up and down. He was really glad that Mumbo had made it.

Mumbo was wearing an oddly formal button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black vest, and matching slacks, but he also had heavy duty work boots and dark brown gloves that he clearly used for everything related to tinkering. Even if Scott only needed his guitar amp fixed, Mumbo had brought goggles, too, which sat on his slicked-back hair.

Scott blinked.

Mumbo wasn't nearly as far from his type as one would've guessed.

Lean with vaguely muscular arms, clearly knowledgeable, and Mumbo was taller than him. Not absurdly so, but enough that Scott had to tilt his head upwards to meet his eyes.

"I'm assuming this is your speaker...?" Mumbo eventually asked, and Scott realized he'd stared a few seconds too long.

"That's it, yes," Scott smoothly replied. "I hate to rush you, but my gig does start in three hours, so do you think you'll be able to fix it before then? If you aren't able to fix it, though, I get it. I appreciate the help anyways."

At that, Mumbo almost seemed mildly offended, and he said, "Well, I certainly haven't worked on something like this before, but it isn't that complicated. I'll have it done in an hour at most, so you'll have plenty of time to practice."

"You really are my knight in shining armor," Scott snickered.

Mumbo's face flushed red at that, and he poorly attempted to hide the fact by kneeling down to start working on the amp. Scott grinned. He didn't mind working to get the attention he wanted, but with easy reactions like that, it wouldn't be hard at all to get it.

As the first couple of minutes ticked by, Scott decided to settle on the ground with his legs crossed and text his bandmates. Gem and Impulse had decided to go out and buy glitter to make their usual band make-up really pop for their first show, but they were taking a while. As soon as he was done sending his check-in text, he glanced over to see the repair progress.

"So, are those goggles for style?" Scott asked.

Mumbo looked up in surprise that he'd even been addressed, and after a moment, he replied, "No, I was working on my own project at home, and it was a little more... risky. But I was in a rush to get here as quick as I could, so I didn't bother leaving them at home!"

"Do you do risky things a lot?" he teased.

"Yes, actually," Mumbo answered, horribly oblivious to Scott's intentions, "I can't put a number to the amount of times I've burnt myself or set something on fire!"

Scott let out a small, quiet sigh and began to watch Mumbo work. None of it made sense, but it made the time go by quicker.

Somewhere between 10-15 minutes later, he figured he might as well start applying the band make-up that he did have available to him. He leaned his phone against Impulse's drum set and opened the camera, then he started with the eyeliner. Next came the lightest amount of foundation and a small amount of dark eye shadow. With that done, he began tracing out a blue star on his cheek. His movements only slowed to a stop when he realized that just over his shoulder in the camera, he could see that Mumbo had stopped working.

"Did you need something, Mumbo?" Scott asked.

Mumbo opened his mouth to respond, then visibly paused for a too-long moment. He took in Scott's changed appearance, and judging by the sudden nervousness in his movements, Scott could only guess that he'd applied it just as intended.

"Yes, yes, I did... uh, I just wanted to know...? If you mind if I tamper with some other settings?" Mumbo stammered.

Scott grinned, all-too pleased with himself and replied, "You can tamper with whatever you like. Very polite of you to ask first."

"That's—that's what manners are for!" Mumbo weakly said, giving Scott an equally shaky grin before he went back to working. At least, he tried to. It took about a minute for him to reorient himself, much to Scott's delight.

Only when Mumbo regained his focus did Scott return to his own work. He finished one of the stars and spent a few extra minutes drawing the other star. He added a few small blue dots around the stars, almost like freckles, and then he patted them dry so the glitter would look smoother on it whenever Gem and Impulse returned.

Now it had been a little over 35 minutes, and Scott was thoroughly bored. He took to watching Mumbo again, alternating between watching the subtle flex of his arms and trying to make sense of whatever repairs or tampering was going on. Ultimately, he got bored of the mechanics and focused in on the mechanic.

"Grian told me that you owed him a favor. Care to share?" Scott idly asked.

Mumbo hummed, continuing to work, and then he answered, "Well, it's only one favor, but he uses it a lot. Not that I mind, I am very grateful, I just thought he'd use it for more pressing matters like... if he was in a life-or-death situation, or if he was being hunted down for an impossibly large debt!"

"You must really owe him, then."

"I definitely do," Mumbo agreed. "We've known each other since middle school, and we went to the very same high school and college. Thing is, that last year of college, I struggled with finding a secure place to live, and I was at risk of not being able to graduate after all. Well, he gave me a place to stay, and he did some of my easier assignments... for me."

Scott's eyebrows raised, but he didn't comment. He didn't think it was a big deal, but it wasn't something he'd expected from someone like Mumbo.

Instead of any criticism, he said, "Glad he did. What you're able to do is impressive. I just hope he's not taking advantage of that favor, or else I'll have to sic Impulse on him."

Mumbo huffed, easy-going and amused.

"He isn't, he isn't," Mumbo reassured him. "If I didn't want to, I wouldn't. Besides, this just means I can ask him for a favor in return, too. I'm already wondering what kind of redstone parts I can order with my newfound favor!"

"You really like redstone, huh?"

"Couldn't live without it!"

The conversation petered out as Mumbo focused in on a specific part, and then just a moment later, he seemed satisfied with what he'd done and put everything back together.

"Care to test it out?" Mumbo requested. "I was just curious how it'd sound if I made a few adjustments."

Scott nodded, stood up, and collected his guitar. He was all-too pleased when he saw the amp even show signs of working again, but then again, Mumbo had been too confident to ever doubt. Readjusting the settings, Scott got his guitar pick and strummed the strings a few times to test out the sound. Now, despite his experience playing the electric guitar, he usually needed to adjust his settings a few times to get the clean, tuned sound that he was looking for. However, somehow, Mumbo had improved the quality of it just by messing with it for a little over half an hour.

"Does that sound better?" Mumbo politely asked. "I'm afraid I'm not well-versed in this subject matter..."

"Yes, gods, this sounds great!" Scott excitedly said, testing out a few more notes. He'd readjust, anyways, and see if Gem and Impulse liked the sound of it, too, but this was far better than it'd been before.

"Glad to hear! Another job well done for me, then, and I suppose a new skill I may look into later on," Mumbo mused.

He began to get up, but Scott was still distracted. It wasn't until he'd allowed his mind to stop wandering on future performances that he realized Mumbo was heading to the exit. Quickly, he set his guitar down and grabbed some of his make-up, making a dash for the exit before Mumbo could get any further.

"Mumbo!" Scott called out, getting the other to stop just as he pushed the door open.

"Oh, yes? Did it break already?" Mumbo worriedly asked.

"No, no, you're fine, I was just wondering if I could repay you later on with dinner?" Scott asked.

Mumbo's worried expression melted away, and he said, "You don't have to do that, really, Grian will repay me just fine—"

"I don't have to, but I'd like to," Scott interrupted. "If you want to, that is. You just really caught my eye."

Mumbo's face flushed a lovely shade of pink, and quietly, he nodded. Scott grinned and held up a tube of lipstick he had. Before Mumbo could question it, Scott's gentle fingers, rough in some places from strumming guitar strings, took ahold of Mumbo's arm and turned it so the underside of it was exposed to his gaze. Then, glittery pink lipstick was gliding across his inner forearm, spelling out Scott's name and phone number in loopy symbols that ended off with a small heart.

"Text me if you're still up for that date," Scott said with a wink, and then he turned away, leaving Mumbo to dazedly stumble outside into the parking lot.

The sun was setting, warm sunshine dancing across his face and shimmering off of the pretty writing on his skin, and all he could think about was how Scott's careful touch had left goosebumps on his arms.

I guess I have a date.

Grian would never believe him.

Underrated duo (I'm delusional)

#scott smajor #mumbo jumbo #scott smajor fanart #mumbo jumbo fanart #crowsongwrites #secret life smp #trafficblr #trafficfic

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girltomboy · 1 year ago

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Last week's self help course was interesting enough but not actually super helpful. It kind of pissed me off at times because of its occasional corporate dick riding tendencies. It was a welcome break from work though (with free lunch), so that was something to appreciate it for. I finally gave M the bracelet I got for her and she loved it and thanked me and said she owes me a gift now but she doesn't 😭 I was the one who owed her a gift for her birthday plus last year's secret Santa when she got me an alien necklace even though she wasn't my Santa!

On Friday we finished early, so M and I had enough time to go to her apartment, listen to some coworkers' funny calls, make dinner and eat, go to a random concert at the Christmas fair opening, and drink mulled wine. We had Saturday plans, so we didn't stay out too long, but it was nice and fun to roam through the crowd with her and watch the concert.

On Saturday I woke up at noon so I only had enough time to eat something, take a shower, and roll 2 joints for me and M to smoke at her place 😭 the plan was to make mulled wine, but smoking together has been a long time goal of ours, and we finally had the opportunity, since her flatmate went home for like a month or two. We met up to go and buy mulled wine and Sunday breakfast supplies, mulled the wine, then her cousin came over to pick up some money she owed him. And then overstayed his welcome when he heard I was staying over AND we were gonna order food. And he also messed up our plans to order from this new fast food place we've been talking about for ages, and instead convinced us to order from the cheapest, worst place 🤮 I'm pretty sure I got some sort of skin allergy from that fake cheeseburger I had, and it wouldn't even be the first time. Like a few hours later I saw a spot near my mouth that looked like a hickey but obviously wasn't one. Idk if it's still there 🤡 but I'm never eating from that place again.

Anyway, M's cousin wasn't even getting our jokes and just spent a few hours drinking cider and eating a grilled cheese wrap, and gossiping about M's flatmate. When he finally left, M and I went out on the balcony to smoke and we couldn't stop laughing, we kept having the exact same thoughts at the exact same time, our one shared brain cell kept getting activated like a ping pong ball between our skulls. When we went back inside we had to put on the videos we'd watched with her cousin again because they were just too funny and her cousin's presence prevented us from appreciating them to the fullest extent.

So we spent like hours watching random funny videos on youtube, then we decided to watch a horror movie we'd been wanting to watch at the cinema for ages, but we could never find the right tickets for it. So we watched It Lives Inside, and it was probably the worst horror movie I've ever seen in my entire life, hands down. I will make a separate post about it, but god I don't think I've seen a GOOD like GOOD GOOD horror movie from this year so far. They've all been either just bearable or downright awful like I can't believe the current state of horror. Anyway, it was entertaining because we kept laughing at the translated captions, and it was bad enough to tire us out. Afterwards M kept asking me what else I wanted to watch, and I was already sleepy so I kept being like idk whatever you want, and we got stuck in this cycle of indecision, but we ended up going to sleep.

On Sunday we woke up at 8 then went back to sleep until 11, M scrolled through youtube looking at food and I played with her little hamster. Then we made breakfast, ate, watched some more youtube videos, and I left. I ended up smoking the second joint at home by myself, I ate some snacks I had from last week and played video games with my friends the whole evening. They pissed me off a lot, not just because of the game. At some point my bf yelled and I told him to shut up and he got more pissed off, which made me upset and I'm only gonna talk to him after he apologizes. Like I'm just not gonna accept that u yell when you're angry at a game, especially when it's your fault + you complain and hate it when other people yell. And he was like "I'm not gonna change how I react" and "expect to have other fights about this" umm I really don't think that's gonna happen lol. What do you think goes through my head when the person I'm in a relationship with says those things to me? Am I just gonna be like "okay! yay🤗" Like don't be surprised that I'm upset with you and not speaking to you if you downright refuse to work on your toddler reactions and also warn me of future conflicts? Ur gonna be fighting your own demons cause I won't be there for that

#im still not talking to him #he tried to call me this morning but im back to work and not in the mood #to delay my work just to not get an apology again #and have a strained conversation pretending that nothing happened and that im not upset #like i defend you behind your back to my family and you say this shit to me? i should tell him the opinion they have of him

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haberdashing · 4 years ago

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i’m begging of you, please...

Mid-Season 3, Martin gets suspicious of Jon’s new flatmate and investigates.

on AO3

Martin had wondered about Jon’s life outside the Institute for some time now; Jon wasn’t one to talk much about his private life in general, and the handful of tidbits he dropped just made Martin that much more curious about what else there was to know. He didn’t push Jon about it often, having learned quickly enough that Jon would sooner snap than break his self-set boundaries, but he still wondered.

Now that Martin knew Jon had found somebody to live with when he was wanted for murder without breaking a sweat, somebody whom Jon seemed to want to avoid discussing at all costs, that curiosity was beginning to harden into a cold certainty, and he felt the burning desire to learn more about the woman (one of the few things Jon had revealed about his living mate was her gender) with whom Jon was now sharing his life.

One evening spent keeping track of where Jon went after work was enough for Martin to get Jon’s new address--it wasn’t far from Martin’s own, as it turned out, making the hardest part of the night not following in Jon’s footsteps but leaving work as late as Jon did these days and then scrambling to make up for lost time once he finally got home.

It was a few days later that Martin stopped by the flat where Jon now lived well before Jon left work for the day, Martin’s heart pounding in his chest as he pounded on the front door.

“Hello?”

Martin heard the woman Jon was living with before he saw her, and neither her voice nor her appearance fit the mental picture Martin had developed for her. She was almost as chubby as Martin himself was, with short black curls and umber skin underneath her oversized dark hoodie, and her voice was friendly without being overly sweet.

Martin didn’t hesitate. “Are you the woman Jon’s been living with this whole time?”

The woman put one hand on her hip. “I prefer to be called Georgie, thanks, but that works too. Who’s asking?”

“I’m, uh, Martin. Martin Blackwood. Nice to meet you.” Martin extended his hand, and Georgie shook it, but between her removing her hand quickly and the strange look in her eyes, Martin could tell Georgie’s heart wasn’t in it.

“Ah, you’re Martin. What brings you here, then? If you’re looking for Jon, I was under the impression he was work today...”

“He is, yeah. It’s you I wanted to talk to, actually.”

“Oh?” Georgie looked Martin over for a long moment before opening her door wider and stepping back so that he could enter. “Well, c’mon in, I suppose. No need to stand out here making a scene, pretty sure my neighbors gossip about me plenty already...”

“R-right, sorry.”

Georgie’s flat was... small. Cozy. A little messy, with stray papers and books and cat hair covering almost every surface, but in a comfortable sort of way. Honestly, it reminded Martin a bit of his own more than anything.

“Go ahead and make yourself at home, there’s plenty of seats to go around.”

Martin nodded numbly and sat down on Georgie’s couch; Georgie took a seat in a chair opposite him before speaking up again.

“So what did you come to talk to me about, hmm?”

It was a lot easier to envision this conversation in the abstract than it was to engage in it here, now, while he was already sitting on Georgie’s surprisingly comfortable couch as she stared him down with an unwavering gaze. The words didn’t come as easily as Martin had hoped they would.

“I was wondering, uh... are you and Jon... together?”

Georgie’s laughter was sharp and sudden, enough that Martin jumped a little in his seat at the sound of it.

“God, no! Not since uni--and trust me, I have no intention of changing that. He’s just a friend now, that’s all.”

“Oh!” All the threads that had seemed to tie up so neatly in this one theory were unraveling in front of Martin’s eyes. “I, I just thought...”

“Nope. Not even a little bit.”

Then Martin remembered someone else that had raised his suspicions before, the one that Jon had used to access the Institute when he was still wanted for murder. Georgie must have been their go-between, so she had to know why Jon trusted her more than the rest of his employees, right?

“Is he with Melanie, then? Is that why...?”

Georgie’s laughter startled Martin only slightly less the second time around, and it proved no less boisterous than before.

“Oh, definitely not. I’m pretty sure Melanie has zero interest in the man. Not like that, anyway... actually, no, I was right the first time, I don’t think she cares about him in any way right about now.”

“Oh, I see.” Martin could feel his face heating up, though as the two denials synced up, two pieces of a puzzle fitting together in his head, he couldn’t stop himself from making one more assumption, though the possibility of Georgie laughing in his face again was clear enough in his mind. “The two of you then? You and, and Melanie, is that it?”

Martin wasn’t faced with laughter this time, though, only a thoughtful humming before Georgie responded.

“...maybe. It’s not official yet, we haven’t really talked about where we stand yet, but... I’m hopeful.”

“Ah, I see! Good for you. I wish you both well.”

“Thanks.” Georgie shot Martin a quick, toothy smile. “But you didn’t come here to talk about me and Melanie, right? You came to talk about Jon. So.” Georgie drummed her fingers on the side of her chair. “Why are you so concerned about who he’s with?”

“I, uh...” Martin’s face heated up again, and he wondered faintly if his face was even redder than his hair was now. “I just... I care about him.”

Georgie raised an eyebrow, and Martin remembered, belatedly, how she had referenced Melanie not caring about Jon earlier. “In what sense of the word?”

Oh, his face was definitely bright red now. “E-every sense?”

“...I see.”

Georgie stood up, and Martin’s pace quickened. Was she about to throw him out, to tell him why he wasn’t good enough for Jon? Because he was well aware of his own flaws and failures already without a lecture on the matter from someone he barely knew...

“I’m glad to hear that. From what he’s said about you, I’m pretty sure Jon cares about you too. So, good luck to the two of you as well.”

Martin didn’t know what to say to that, so he just sat in place silently, one arm gripping the couch’s armrest as if for dear life as his mouth went dry.

“Fancy a cuppa?”

Martin let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Absolutely.”

#personal #tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #jonmartin #jmart

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narcissasdaffodil · 4 years ago

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Flufftober 2020

Day 10: Cooking

Writing this one from the same uni verse as two of these are currently.

“Hi, I was wondering if you would want to come over for food? It’s fine if you’re busy, but most of my flatmates are out so pretty much got the kitchen to myself.” Alecto read aloud the text in front of her, checking it through before she sent it off to Marisol, and sent it. She sat on the sofa, trying to find something to watch and ultimately failing. Why is there absolutely nothing on certain days of the week, anyway?

“Thank you, you’ve saved me from dealing with the state the kitchen is currently. Abby and I are the only people who clean up after ourselves, the rest of my flatmates are animals. I’ll be over in 10 ish minutes and let you know when I’m outside.” Marisol sent her a text back very quickly, which caused Alecto to laugh slightly. Wow. Both her and Abby have definitely drawn the short straw in terms of flatmates. You’re lucky, you mostly get along with everyone in your flat.

The kitchen was pretty quiet, meaning that Alecto jumped when she heard voices coming down the hallway. The door opened and someone flopped down next to her. She looked up to spot her flatmate Olivia.

“Still nothing on, then? Maybe try Netflix or watching a film? Also I bumped into Marisol as I was coming back, as you can probably tell.” Olivia grinned, curling up her long limbs into a ball and resting her chin on her knees. “Wait, did I make you jump? Oops.” She tapped the sofa, looking up at Marisol, who was still standing and moving from foot to foot, looking uneasy. “You can sit down if you want, we don’t bite or anything.”

Alecto put the remote down on the coffee table and put her other stuff in a neat stack on it, making her way to her feet and struggling slightly to get out of the low brown sofa. “Maybe you’ll have a bit more luck than me? Also you made me jump, but everyone does! It’s not just you doing that. Is pasta fine? Got pasta sauce I need to finish somehow. Also, Marisol, you can sit down, just relax. You’re a guest here,and guests don’t have to do the cooking. I don’t mind doing the cooking, I’ve been very bored the entire day so I need to do something to save me going crazy.” She retrieved pasta sauce from the fridge, setting it on the counter and putting the kettle on to boil for pasta. She found herself humming slightly as she waited, eventually retrieving her phone and a speaker and putting music on low, putting her playlist on shuffle. She went to her room to retrieve her pasta, making Olivia laugh when she came back with the massive bag.

“There’s still a pasta thief hanging about, then? How much food do you have stored in your room, anyway?” Olivia teased her slightly, flashing her a bright grin.

“Hmm, that would be telling. You’ll forever live in suspense regarding the amount of food in my room. As for the pasta thief, definitely. Keep your pasta in your room, otherwise don’t come complaining to me if it goes on a walk!” She smiled back, her grin reaching her eyes. She tapped her nose and promptly winked, pouring the water into a saucepan with 3 portions of pasta. Wait, Marisol’s a little quiet. Which is a bit off, she’s not usually this quiet.

She finishes sorting out the pasta and jumps out of her skin when Marisol appears beside her. She felt her feet leave the floor for a little bit, literally making herself jump, and she placed a hand to her heart, which was racing. “Wow, you scared me! Are you okay, you seem a bit quieter than usual.” Her tone turned serious, and she rested her arm around Marisol’s shoulders.

“It’s nothing much, just flatmate stuff. If I wasn’t with Abby, I’d ask for a room move, but I don’t want to leave her, that wouldn’t be nice. They keep having late night parties and I have the bad luck of the room right next to the kitchen, so it’s hard to sleep, which isn’t helpful when I have a 9am lecture. I hear them gossiping about me and Abby a lot, and it’s wrong. It’s not like any of them even tried to get to know either of us before they judged us. I don’t understand how partying this often is enjoyable and how they can attend lectures after drinking the night before. On top of that, they leave the kitchen in a state after parties and they don’t listen when we ask them to clean up. It keeps getting worse also.” Her voice was soft and she stared at the floor in front of her.

“Hang on. Liv, is there still two free rooms next to you? As we had people move rooms in the first two weeks. If so, we could try asking if both of you could switch floors. That might solve the issue.” Alecto’s eyes lit up as she had a brain wave, and called over to Olivia.

“You...you’d do that? Why? We don’t even know each other that well.” Marisol looked back at her, looking a little confused.

“Abby’s my best friend. And she’s very picky with people she chooses to befriend and I like you. I do see you as a friend, Abby has definitely talked to me about you a lot. I do accidentally scare people off with the way I am naturally and it does take a lot for me to befriend people too, but I like you. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t mean it, anyway.” She turned to the pasta, stirring it with a fork to stop it sticking, then transferred the sauce to a bowl and warming it up in the microwave.

“Yep, there’s definitely two free rooms. It would be nice to have an even number of girls and guys to be honest, 5 guys to 3 girls can get a bit overwhelming at times. We do all get on, mostly anyway, which is a slight miracle.” Olivia called back from her position in front of the TV.

“Liv, could you get all of your crap off the table please? We kind of need that to eat.” Alecto called over. Marisol nearly went to help, until Alecto grabbed her hand gently.

“You’re a guest. Guests don’t have to do anything. All I want you to do is just stay with me here. Even if some of it is yours, Livia is very much capable of moving it herself.” Alecto said, her voice gentle and she smiled at Marisol, her heart fluttering slightly when the other girl returned the smile for the first time this evening.

She drained the pasta and served it into bowls, topping it with sauce, and putting cutlery neatly in each. She tried to balance all 3 bowls, but Marisol grabbed one before she could.

“Dont overload yourself, you’ve only got two hands. Let me help just this much.” Marisol said. To Alecto’s surprise, Marisol’s cheeks were slightly flushed. She ignored it, moving towards the table and setting down the bowls. Hang on! Drinks! Oh dear, can’t believe you forgot those. She stood up again, just as Olivia retrieved a giant Coke bottle and 3 glasses from behind the sofa, and opened the fizzy drink, pouring it into glasses. Alecto found herself staring at the bottle.

“How did you know that was there?” She was more than a little bit confused.

“That’s where I left it after my lecture. I was planning to move it when I got back, but forgot. I don’t know why I thought behind the sofa would be a good spot for it, but oh well. It doesn’t really matter, right?” Olivia laughed and nudged her gently to sit down again. Okaayy. That’s definitely odd, but don’t comment further on it. “I can practically see the cogs in your brain turning around. Don’t overthink it, it’s only a bottle behind the sofa.” Olivia laughed again.

To prevent further comments, Alecto readied a spoonful of the pasta, hoping she wasn’t blushing too much about the situation. She blew on it, and tried it. It was great, especially after accidentally skipping lunch. Everyone around the table fell silent, transfixed by the food in front of them. There was no sound apart from music.

“This is amazing! It’s obvious why I didn’t put up a fight about you taking over.” Olivia winked.

“Well...you’re the one who messed up while cooking popcorn in the microwave at 2am, and caused the fire alarm to go off. And you’ve nearly blew it up twice! So it’s not hard to be a better cook than you.” Alecto teased her slightly. It was no secret how hopeless Olivia was in the kitchen.

“That was you? That night was one of the only nights there was no party on my floor, but after the fire alarm went off I couldn’t sleep, which was hard considering the fact I had a 9am class that day! I had to survive off 2 hours of sleep, 5 cups of coffee and 2 naps, that wasn’t fun at all.” Marisol gasped, promptly glaring at Olivia.

“Oops. I’m hopeless, what can I say. I can offer you a free room, if that makes things better. We can talk with the accommodation people and ask Abby too, so you can have better flatmates and can sleep better. I’m definitely super serious about that, by the way.” Olivia reached out and squeezed Marisol’s hand gently.

Alecto looked out of the window, feeling herself zone out slightly. She was happy in a way she hadn’t experienced in a while, and she wanted more.

#litg #love island the game #litg marisol #litg fanfic #litgs2 #bubblelaureno #marisol x mc

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dalamjisung · 4 years ago

Text

nothing complicated ✾ jeon jungkook

word count: 5418

genre: fluff, neighbors!AU

pairing: reader x Jeon Jungkook

description: you just moved in and Jungkook really makes you feel welcome.

Moving is never easy. There is always too much to do in too little time; boxing, carrying, building, settling. Thankfully, you aren’t alone, and your best friend– now your flatmate– is there to help you. She works on organizing the kitchen as you focus on building the shelves; she changes the old lamps for new ones as you put your room together; she works on her room and you clean the bathroom– like this, you two finish the whole place in a week. It is only once you two sit down on your new couch to watch a movie that it hits you: you’re home.

“What are you feeling like today?” Your friend asks. “The Greek place around the corner is doing delivery, if you’re into that… or we can order from that same Korean place? The one we had last week?”

You groan, frustrated with your own stupidity.

“Why didn’t we buy pans yet?” You ask, sighing. It’s been a week of delivery and you are not sure how much longer you can put up with this. “At this point, I don’t want to eat at all…”

“I know, babes,” She says. “But they arrive tomorrow, so choose something delicious today cause that’s the last delivery we’ll order for a while.”

“Hm,” You try to remember all the options. “How about that Italian place? The one a few blocks away? I think they deliver here.”

“Perfect,” She taps away on her phone, excited to make the order after another day of hard work in the apartment. Everything was spot clean now, and you feel as exhausted as she does, after having to deal with your landlord about the broken boiler. “I just want to sit outside and enjoy the cold afternoon weather as much as we can… God knows tomorrow might be radioactively hot again.”

Laughing, she orders the food and helps you bring everything to the terrace you two fought so hard to have; an outside space is a must, she said as the apartment hunting continued, arguing that her dog needed a place to feel more comfortable around the house, but you knew it was just an excuse to be able to have a cute hang out spot that is not the living room. You agreed, though, and now there you are– sitting on your wooden furniture with fairy light that don’t do much besides upping the electricity bill. You love it, though; the wind dries your recently washed hair and makes you shiver, and you smile.

You’re home.

Home is peaceful, you can’t help but notice. The first floor seems to be empty, as you haven’t heard a single thing ever since you moved in a week ago; and the floor above you is where two women live– they came over to introduce themselves and invite you and your friend for a bottle of wine. The house to your right, one which you can see their garden from the left end of your terrace, is where a family lives, their six-year-old daughter, Lucy, having already gotten acquainted with Koya, your house dog.

“Wine or beer?” She shouts from the kitchen, and before you can answer, someone does it for you.

“Beer!”

Your eyes go wide, and your friend comes back running, beers in hand and mouth agape.

“That was definitely not you,” She whispers, shocked.

“Nope,” You chuckle, still confused. Clearing your throat, you call out a bit louder. “Hello?”

“Hello!”

“Who- Who is this?” You laugh, getting up and walking to the metal railing that offers protection on the edge of the terrace.

“Your downstairs neighbor!” You look down, eyes on the wide outside space they have thanks to living on the ground floor, and a boy walks out of the house, next to the beaten down ping pong table they have out there. “Hi! My name is Taehyung!”

“Oh!” You look at your friend, asking with your eyes if she’s seeing the incredibly attractive boy too or are your dreaming? “Hello there! I’m Y/N, and this is my friend, Sora!”

“Hi!” She beams, a very recognizable flirting smile on her face. “Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice,” Taehyung winks and smirks. “When did you guys move?”

And just like that the afternoon wheezes by. At some point you recognize you are slightly tipsy, Sora is drunk, and Taehyung managed to get his hands on a six-pack in his kitchen. Never did you two cross the staircase to go downstairs, as much as he tried to get you two to make him company while his two flatmates are away; the distance in between your small terrace and his wide garden seems to offer you just the right amount of security to boost your confidence.

Just as Sora is laughing at yet another joke, you all hear the door slamming, and suddenly someone is loudly belting to Blackbear.

“Fuck you, and you, and you,” You snort, recognizing the song instantly. “I hate your friends and they hate me too!”

“Uh,” Taehyung laughs, a bit embarrassed. “Jungkook?”

“I’m through, I’m through, I’m through,” He continues, and you can’t help but laugh to your heart’s content. “This that hot girl bummer anthem, turn it up and throw a tantrum!”

“Ya, Jeon Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, blushing intensely. “Watch your language, dude!”

“What?” The voice calls from inside. “I can’t hear you, hyung.”

“Watch your motherfucking language!” Taehyung shouts back, clearly frustrated. “You’re gonna make a bad impression with the new neighbors!”

“Oh, no,” You wave your hand, enjoying the show. “Please don’t stop on our account. We love a good show.”

“Neighbors?” Another voice asks, and soon you see another guy coming out. As soon as he spots you he is smiling, and you feel like you could melt with house sweet he looks. “Ah, hello girls!”

“This is Jimin,” Tae explains, rolling his eyes. “And the idiot that now is too embarrassed to come out is Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Sora shouts so that Jungkook can hear too.

“Same here,” Jimin says, sitting down and opening a bottle. “So, where were we?”

The night ends with the four of you going to buy some more beer at the nearby convenience store. You don’t miss the curious eyes looking at you two through the window, though, shooting him a kind smile and hoping that one day you’ll be able to tell him you absolutely love Blackbear.

——————————

Almost a month passes before you get to finally meet Jungkook. You are on your way out to go to the gym you’ve been attending ever since moving– a boxing gym about thirty minutes away,– when you remember you forgot your keys. Going back would make you late for your training session, but there is nothing you can do and you start running back the same way you came from, until you spot him locking the door, and before you can back out, you poke his shoulder, breathing harsh and fast.

“Excuse me,” You smile, trying your best not to startle him. “Jungkook, right?”

His eyes, still wide and so, so kind looking, focus on you and he just nods, slowly pulling his large headset down. “Yeah…”

“Oh thank god,” You mumble, and you are sure he heard you. “Stupid me forgot my keys inside and I’m already running late so could you maybe–“

“Oh!” He shouts, a little too suddenly, and you jump a bit. “Yeah, of course! Go ahead!”

He opens the door for you and you run up to your apartment, banging on the door with no avail; after a couple of minutes, you remember that Sora left for a date and wouldn’t be back for a while. You walk back down, defeated and accepting that you would be late and locked out.

“Is everything alright?”

Your head snaps to your left, where Jungkook is leaning on the wall, waiting for you.

“Oh, yeah,” You smile. “My friend is not in, so I’m just going to have to wait when I come back…”

“Where are you going?” He squints his eyes at your tote bag, where the end of your boxing gloves are peeking out.

“Uh… there is a boxing gym nearby I go a few times a week,” You scratch your head, suddenly embarrassed.

“The one next to the main road?” He asks, pointing to its general direction.

“You know the place?” You ask looking up at him, and that’s when you realize you two started walking together.

“I’m going there right now,” He smiles and oh god, his smile. His teeth show and his cheeks puff in a way that reminds you of a bunny. “I train there too. I can just wait for you to be done and we come back together, this way you at least wait for your friend inside.”

“That’d be great, to be honest,” You smile, relieved. “Thank you so much, Jungkook.”

“No problem, Y/N,” He chuckles at your surprised face. “Jimin told me you guys’ names… I’m sorry, by the way, about that day.”

This was your chance. “No problem, I love Blackbear.”

His cheeks grow redder and redder, but the smile stays. “Well, I’m sorry anyways. I didn’t even go outside to say hi…”

“Ah,” You frown, pretending to be stern. “Yes, you should be very apologetic about that.”

He looks at you with a mix of suspicion and humor. “Oh, really?”

“Absolutely,” You nod.

“How can I be forgiven?” He follows along.

“Uhm…” You tap your finger on your finger, thinking. “Only one way.”

“Tell me,” He dramatizes. “I’d do anything.”

“Coffee,” You say, looking at him. Goddammit those eyes…

“Coffee?” He chuckles, and you shiver.

“Coffee.”

“Alright then,” He shrugs, laughing to himself. “Coffee it is.”

The walk seems shorter today, Jungkook proving himself to be a much more enjoyable company then your usual iTunes playlist. He tells you the neighborhood gossip, joking about your landlord’s wife trying to steal Koya away since she’s obsessed with dogs. You learn that he is a Game Designer, working with your favorite company; he sings on his spare time, but you already knew that, always hearing him through your thin bathroom walls. And he apparently boxes, enjoying the strength that the physical activity gives him.

“What about you?”

And now it’s your turn to tell him all about you; how you are pursuing your masters on Social and Cultural Psychology, a subject most people don’t pay the proper attention to, and how you’ve just started playing Zelda: Breath of the Wild, which is, coincidently, produced by his main competitor.

“I can’t believe this,” Jungkook groans once you compliment the game’s graphics. “This is treason!”

“I’m sorry,” You laugh. “But it’s so good!”

“Ours is better,” He says pointedly. “And I’ll prove it.”

“How?”

“You’ll see,” He says mysteriously, and you leave it at that, already arriving at the gym.

Saying your temporary farewell, you walk into the ring, apologizing to your trainer profusely. The session is weird, today; your eyes focused on your trainer, but mind wandering to the lone boy at the punching bag.

“Come on, Y/N, focus!” Your trainer shouts, and you are back at punching, and punching, and punching until. “Time!”

You collapse on the floor, body exhausted; however you still hear the adorable chuckle echoing in the empty gym.

“Are you ready to go?” You turn your head to the side and see Jungkook smiling. “I can wait a bit more if you’re still finishing–“

“We’re done,” You decree, sending your trainer a pointed look. “I’m dead. You might have to carry my home.”

His nose crinkles with his wide smile. “No way, you are sweaty.”

“You’re not much better,” You deadpan. “Give me five seconds to get my jacket and we’ll go.”

“Y/N,” The trainer calls back. “I really can’t convince you?”

“No way,” You laugh, putting the jacket on even though your body feels like it’s melting. “Not my thing, Coach. But thanks for the consideration.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks at you with inquiring eyes.

“Can’t convince this girl to go competitive,” Coach laughs, shaking his head in disappointment. “She got here a month ago, but we all really think she has potential.”

You shake your head again. “Thank Coach, but no thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, once you are walking back home. “It’s a huge opportunity!”

“Yeah, but it would also demand a lot of my time,” You shrug. “With getting my Masters and trying to find a job, I don’t think I’d have the time or energy to try and go pro.”

He nods, understanding. “I get that. Good thing you found time to just train and enjoy it, then.”

“Yeah, specially since now the company just got better,” You wink, making him blush.

You check your phone once you two are close to the building but there’s still no news from Sora. You groan, desperately wanting to shower.

“Is she home?” Jungkook asks, already knowing the answer considering your frustrated reaction.

“No… and I don’t think she’s coming home anytime soon,” You mumble, sighing. “I’ll just wait outside my door. The carpet seems comfortable.”

Jungkook scoffs. “No way, you’re waiting inside. You must be dying to shower… I can lend you some clothes and you can use my bathroom.”

“Oh, I don’t want to–“

“Come on, Y/N,” He jokingly elbows you. “I’m trying to be a good neighbor.”

“When you put it like that,” You roll your eyes. “I can’t say no, now, can I?”

“Never,” He opens the door and walks to his apartment. “After you, ma’am.”

It feels weird to not just walk up the stairs to your floor, but you also enjoy the excitement rushing through your veins; you’ve crossed the imaginary line of your terrace… would that be okay?

“Y/N!” Jimin shouts happily from the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Hey Jimin,” You wave and allow yourself to be pulled by your hood to Jungkook’s room. “Got locked out after the gym and Jung–“

“She’s showering in my bathroom, no one goes in there,” Jungkook basically growls at his flatmates. “I’ll come help with dinner while she does her thing.”

“We were thinking of ordering today, actually,” Tae says from his spot on the couch. “You like pepperoni pizza, Y/N?”

“Love it,” You smile. “I’m down.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook says, still pulling you. “Now go shower, you smell.”

You give him the finger. “You smell, too, you know?”

“I’m very much aware,” He laughs. “I’ll shower in Jimin hyung’s bathroom.”

He picks up a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, shoving them towards you and leaving the room. It’s only when the door closes that you allow yourself some time to look around, noticing how similar his room is to yours; blue bedsheets and pillows, a large, two screen computer with, and you’ve guessed this before, a classic gamer chair in the corner. Some trophies stand in a shelf and you smile at a younger picture of him, wearing a black taekwondo belt and holding a medal. Making some mental reminders, you go to the bathroom, basking under the warm water softening your tired muscles.

You wash your hair and smile, noticing how everything smells like him. Shampoo, conditioner, clothes. It takes over your sense and you close your eyes, summoning the cute smile and kind eyes. Almost like magic, and just as you raised the color of his t-shirt away from your neck and to your nose, the door opens and Jungkook looks at you.

“Ready?” You nod, pretending nothing happened while wanting to bury yourself six feet under. “Pizza’s already here– didn’t want you taking too long and risking Taehyung hyung eating all of it.”

“He wouldn’t!” You gasp, following him to the living room.

“Oh he would,” Jungkook scoffs. “Actually, he did! Many times before.”

“But I’m special,” You joke. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You are 100% right,” Tae catches on. “I will always wait for you, Y/N.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook sits next to his flatmate and pulls you down next to him, and you have to wonder what is up with this boy and pulling you places. He gives you a slice and digs in after you start eating, always eyeing the other boys to make sure they leave you at least another slice. You all have fun, but you start to grow anxious as Jimin goes to sleep, and Taehyung follows. It’s getting late and all that Sora sent you was a wink face, and from that you had many, many interpretations to follow.

“Okay,” Jungkook sighs, getting up. “Are you ready?”

“W-what?” You look at him, furrowing your brows. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you are ready, Y/N?”

“Uh, I think so? Sora is not coming home, I think, but if you want to go to sleep I can wait in the hallway and–“

“What? No, you’re sleeping over,” He waves his hand as if that had been already settled. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What are you talking about then?”

He moves towards the TV, clicking some buttons and opening some drawers. He comes back with a pile of game boxes. “Chose one.”

“Are these–“

“Yes,” He says and there is determination in his voice. “Now choose one and let’s do this shit.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

The night is not long enough for the two of you. Game after game, Jungkook keeps his promise– his games are better. The graphics, the storyline, the worlds; everything.

“This one was the best,” You gush, dropping the control with a yawn. It’s now six in the morning and you two have not taken a break since you started. “It’s my new favorite, 100%. Where can I buy it, Kook?”

The nickname comes out naturally and you two smile at it; he leans forward, grabbing the disk from his console and puts it back in the box, giving it to you without hesitation.

“This is my game,” He smiles. “They are all from my company, but this is my game. I pitched it, and it was my first project of many. I’m glad you liked it, Y/N. You can have it.”

“Wha- No!” You push it away. “You need to keep it!”

“I can just get another copy from the office,” He shrugs. “Keep this one. You can play again anytime.”

“Thank, Kook,” You whisper, truly touched with his actions. “Really, thank you for everything.”

“Nah,” He chuckles. “It’s nothing.” “Don’t say that,” You frown.

Does he know? Doesn’t it show?How much this means to me?

——————————

Waking up is not as graceful as it was falling asleep. You are not sure when you two lay down in the couch, but you wake up barely able to breath and feeling way too hot to be normal. You look at the man laying behind you with his heavy arm and leg tossed over you and huff, trying to move away from him, but turns out Jungkook is a cuddler.

“Just roll away,” Taehyung says, walking straight to the kitchen. “He does that in his sleep, so it’s easier to just roll away.”

The loud thud is not enough to wake your friend and you are thankful, wishing he’d sleep as much as he can, considering it’s the weekend.

“Good morning,” You say, trying to pretend nothing’s happened.

“Nu-uh,” Taehyung smiles cheekily. “Not how I roll. What’s happening there, huh?”

“Nothing,” You roll your eyes. “We spent the whole night playing games and fell asleep. You said it yourself, he does that in his sleep.”

“Yeah, he does,” Tae shrug. “But I saw the way you two clicked… Jungkook is a really shy kid, you know? He doesn’t open up easily, not like that.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice,” You smile but it comes out forced. You really want to believe Taehyung’s words, but you literally met Jungkook less than 24 hours ago. “Have you heard Sora come back?”

“I’ll tell you if you give me her number,” Tae offers you his best boxy smile. “Your friend is… something else.”

“Believe me, I know,” You don’t even hesitate, pulling your phone out and texting him her contact. “She thinks you’re hot, by the way.”

“Wow,” His eyes are wide. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m helping a friend out,” You roll your eyes. “You like her, she likes you; there’s nothing complicated there. Just know that if you hurt her, I’ll murder you in your sleep.” You finish off with a bright smile.

“Well, in that case, let me help you too,” Tae chuckles. “Kookie likes you. Thought you were beautiful the first time he saw you. And Sora got home hours ago.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“He likes you, you like him,” He repeats, walking away. “Nothing complicated there.”

Mumbling to yourself, you go to your apartment only to be face to face with your flatmate.

“Now, now,” Sora asks, pretending to not be wearing the same clothes as the day before. “Where were you, young lady?”

“I should be the one asking that question!” You shout. “I got locked out!”

“I told you I was going out,” Sora shrugs. “Now tell me why Taehyung has my number and what happened when you slept over there?”

“Nothing happened, and because he likes you,” You yawn, going straight to your room.

“That’s not what he said,” She taunts. “He said something about a certain Jungkook liking you?”

“How would he know?” You ask her. “We just met! Yesterday!”

“That’s all it takes and you know it,” She says pointedly. “Or did you forget about he who shall not be named?”

“That’s different,” You frown, suddenly remembering your ex. “In the end, I didn’t know him at all. I don’t want to make the same mistake… you know why.”

“I do,” She sighs. “But not everyone is him. Jungkook is definitely not him… something about Jungkook is much more innocent.”

“I know, I know,” You yawn. “He’s great, but… it’s too soon. I need time. That’s what I came here for.”

“You’ll have as much time as you need,” She promises. “Even if I have to ward Taehyung and Jimin off your case.��

You nod because you trust her. Sora has always and will always be by your side, just like you will be by hers. After you broke-up with your ex, she was the only one that stayed by you, instead of criticizing you for being an inconsiderate asshole. You left him when he needed you the most, people said, but they didn’t even know half of it. He’d always need you, is what you concluded. He was just one of those people that demand too much emotional support that they don’t even know how to give it back; and if you kept going– if you kept supporting him on your back like it was your duty,– you’d disappear. When you left, you barely knew who you were… and that’s when Sora came into action. She pushed you beyond your limitations and reminded you of everything– how you like spicy food, and how you actually hate the smell of roses, and she reminded you of how much, just how much you love playing video games; all things your ex fought so hard to have you forget. It was the small things, and right now, as you stand proud and happy, those are the things you hang onto the most.

——————————

It takes about a month to finally happen. The kiss, you mean.

For the next 30 days or so, you and Jungkook proceed to deepen a connection that had been there since day one. It is over games that he tells you about his college experience– not terrible, but not great, he says. He was too shy. Over drinks, you tell him about your ex. Friend chicken late at night is for lighter subjects, like how he met the boys and his other hyungs or how Sora and Taehyung had been ‘sneaking’ around as if no one knows. Things with him are easy, light.

Nothing complicated, Taehyung’s voice echoes in your head just as you sit down in their couch. Tonight is movie night, a tradition established since Taehyung started going upstairs every Thursday to have sex with your flatmate, and since Jimin had work until late hours, Jungkook always invited you over. As per usual, he makes the snacks while you figure the movie out, choosing one of his favorites, as always. You like to see the surprised and excited smile in his face when the title flashes by.

“What are we watching?” He asks, handing you the Pringles he keeps just for when you’re over.

“Iron Man,” You say and there it is. The excitement.

To say you are paying attention to the movie is a lie– all you can do is pretend to watch and laugh at appropriate parts ad your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss Jungkook? For a while you’ve been thinking about it; dreaming about it, even. You woke scared and horny the first time it happened, but after that it became routine. From then on, things that are supposed to be normal and common, like him pushing his hair back, or him boxing in the gym, start to… inspire you.

“What?” He asks, breaking you from your day dream.

“Oh,” You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one,” He snorts, scooting closer to you. “Tell me. You were staring at me pretty intensely, I’m curious.”

“It’s nothing, Kook,” You laugh and you can feel yourself getting nervous by the minute.

“Lie,” He mumbles, face getting closer and closer. “Are you sweating? Wow, what is it that you’re so nervous about? It’s just me.”

That’s just it, you think, smiling at him. It’s you.

“Jungkook, just leave it,” You push him back and get up. “I’m tired, so I’ll go ahead and go to sleep.”

“What?” His pout almost breaks you. “No, please! I’ll stop interrogating, stay!”

“I’m sleepy,” You whine. “I wanna lay down.”

“You can use my shoulder,” He whines too. “I don’t want to watch the movie alone. I’ve seen this a thousand times already, I wanted to watch you watching it.”

“Watch me?”

“Uh, yeah,” He realizes what he said and startles himself. “I… I just wanted to know if you’d like it.”

“Oh, I love Iron Man,” You explain, watching him get up and go to his room. “I’ve seen it before.”

“Okay.”

After that awkward conversation it’s as if you two are walking on eggshells. He doesn’t joke around as you two brush your teeth, or instantly hugs you when you lay down next to him. He just stares at you.

“Okay, this is weird,” You say, a bit too loudly. “What’s up with you? You’re staring.”

“It’s nothing,” He says, almost mocking you as he acts like you did before. “Leave it.”

“If you say so,” You mumble, ignoring his stiff posture and cuddling closer to him. “Night, Kook.”

And that’s when it happens, his lips on yours, very softly, brushing almost too lightly.

“Good night, Y/N.”

——————————

Pretending nothing happened in the morning was impossible. You didn’t even want to, anyways, but Jungkook wouldn’t even allow the thought to brew in your mind.

He kisses you good morning, waking you up. He has coffee, something he’s been doing for a while now, always buying you coffee whenever he’d think of you, and he also makes you breakfast, eyes trained on you as you stand still in the kitchen, the surprise too much to even move. When you finally get to go home, after many kisses goodbye, you slide down the door, shouting for your friend as soon as you regain a bit of your sanity.

“He what?”

“Kissed me,” You repeat, not really believing it. “Again, and again, and again. Last night and this morning and right now, before I came up here. And he won’t stop. And I like it. I love it, actually. I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” She shouts. “Don’t stop! He obviously likes you! And you obviously like him!”

“Don’t shout!” You whisper, looking at her open window. “They can hear you.” “Y/N,” She sighs, summoning all of her patience to deal with you. “This is not complicated. You’re the one making it so.”

“I know, I know,” You grumble. You are frustrated and Sora knows. “It just feels too easy… like something might go wrong any time now!”

“Maybe you two should talk,” She suggests. “I’ll text Taehyung I’m going down there and for him to send Jungkook over.”

“Don’t you dare!” You shout, leaping for her phone, but she is too quick.

“Done,” She winks. “You’ll thank me later, babes.”

You have a minute and nothing else before he knocks on your door– it is just enough to put your hair up in a way that didn’t make you look like a crazy woman.

“You called?” He smiles, moving forward to kiss you, but you stop him.

“Yeah, I think we need to talk,” You say, chuckling in the most awkward way possible. Looking back up at him, you see his smile falter, doubt invading his eyes. “It’s not bad!”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” He is now uncomfortable and you want to punch yourself. You could’ve led it with another phrase… “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” You basically shout. “Everything’s a-okay. We just need to talk about it.”

“Why?” He pouts a bit, clearly confused and you can’t help it. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him, deep and fast. “Wha–“

“Just so that this can keep happening,” You explain, voice airless. He nods and you guide him to your room, sitting him down on your bed while you pace from one side to the other. “Okay. Great. Alright, let’s talk. Let’s do this. We’re good.”

“Are you nervous?” He asks, and you know he’s not teasing. More so he is surprised. “Y/N? Why are you nervous?”

“I like you!” You blurt out, hands wailing around and a grimace on your face. “I actually like you a lot. And I know Taehyung said you like me too, but for some reason I just can’t believe him. But then you kissed me and I start to believe him, and for some reason, something that is supposed to be easy, is super complicated.”

“There’s nothing complicated here,” Jungkook smiles. It’s different this time round, though; his smile is wide and true, and although his cheeks are red with embarrassment and his eye glisten with hope, you can feel just how nervous is. “I like you, you like me. What’s so complicated about this?”

“I don’t know,” You groan. “It feels too easy, Kook! Nothing is ever this easy!”

“Well, everything has a first,” He jokes. “This is easy, Y/N. Let it be easy. Please. I can’t handle complicated.”

“Me neither,” You bite your nails, nervously waiting for something to go wrong. After a couple of minutes, you look back at him. He tries to hold his laughter in, but it comes out anyways. “So this is it?”

“Yeah, this is it,” Jungkook shrugs, opening his arms for you, and you know just what he wants.

“Just like this?”

He nods. “Just like this.”

“Are you–“

“Goddammit woman, just come here.”

The way he kisses you once you jump into his open arms is how you hope to be kissed everyday. He falls back with you on top of him but his arms hold you steady, bringing you closer but leaving enough space so you could swing your legs to both sides of him. This is passionate, you conclude, but the word sounds too robotic to truly describe it.

Hunger, is more like it. Need. Want.

Want. There it is. This is pure want. Pure wish, and hope, and it is happening. And you meet him halfway, allowing him to feel the want and hope you have accumulated as well.

“Is Sora coming back anytime soon?” He whispers in your ear, mouth making a scorching trail down your throat.

“Doubt it,” You breath out, moaning in sequence as he bites a particularly sensitive spot. “She’s with Tae.”

His eyes shine in a way you’ve never seen before, but it makes you smile. He is right, in the end– this is nothing complicated.

“Good.”

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

and here is our next member of BTS! What’d you think? Let me know! Like, share, comment, help a writer out :) it means the world when you do it ❤️

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hardforbenhardy · 5 years ago

Text

the show must go on

scandal pt. 2 | rogerxreader

it was requested as therefore you shall receive! it may not be my best writing because i wasn’t super expecting to have to write a part 2, so its also a little mismatched, so i apologise if it doesn’t really make sense or there’s bits that might seem unrealistic. i’d kinda like to do a second ending that’s completely different to this one, because i have a little idea, so that may possibly come if this can get to 100 notes? but i got a lot of requests for part 2 of scandal, so here it is and i hope you enjoy :)

it’s set in 1991 so you can kinda guess what’s going to happen... :(

summary: you had divorced your husband of 10 years, and had not seen him for the past 2 years due to excommunication. though, when a rather tragic experience brings you back together, you can’t figure out how to react.

warnings: mentions of death, super sad, angsty, lil fluff at the end

word count: 5.1k (oops)

part 1 here (if you haven’t read it yet, you should before this one for context!)

taglist: @imjustboredso @greenprisca @ilostmydeacy

Queen vocalist, Freddie Mercury, dies of Aids.

The words struck you silent. Your best friend, your confidante, your once-flatmate; a man you considered as one of your closest companions for 15 years of your life. Had gone. No longer a living, breathing human being, but rather now just a mere memory for you to reminisce on. It almost didn’t seem real, like this was all just a practical joke on you, that you would blink and those haunting letters on that page would just re-jumble to reveal a much more inviting headline. Queen vocalist, Freddie Mercury, has got a new cat. That, well admittedly that would make you laugh, but that would be much more gratifying for you to read. But no, it wasn’t that at all.

And the way you found out, of course, was from a newspaper. Funny; it seemed like newspapers were just out to get you and ruin your life any way they could. First, you find out your husband is cheating on you. Then, you find out one of your previous closest friends had passed away. And the way they word it; so blunt, it makes you almost physically sick. This man was a legend; an idol too many, in both the music industry and in the gay community, people looked up to him. And they decide to announce that he had simply ‘died of Aids’. Not to mention, a second newspaper placed on your doorstop simply stated ‘Freddie is dead’; how desensitised did the media have to be?

You could barely breath; you felt as if a rope had been double knotted around your neck and someone was gradually tightening it more and more. Your eyes had begun watering without you even noticing, the hot tears allowing themselves to cascade down your cheeks. Cheeks red and nose running, you couldn’t do anything but stand there. Repeating the words in your head. “Died of Aids”

“Mum, what’s going on?” you heard the voice of your 11-year-old son, Felix, from behind you. You have to explain to your children that their uncle Fred had passed away, when you could barely even comprehend it yourself. That also reminded you, Roger. You had no idea how he was coping right now; if you were Freddie’s close friend, Roger was Freddie’s bestest friend. You didn’t know a closer relationship than the one between Freddie and Roger; so you couldn’t help but sympathise his position right now. Brian. John. Jim. Mary. They must all be grieving so badly.

“Felix, hunny, go get your sister and Mike; I have some bad news” you whispered, squatting down to his level and seeing his face drop as he saw your dishevelled appearance. He ran off to retrieve Rory from her bedroom, and your friend Mike, and you tried to figure out what you’d do next. Should you call one of the boys? See how they’re doing? Then again, you haven’t seen them in 2 whole years and only just contacting them at a time like this may just seem like you are being insensitive. You had a lot to consider.

*****

You found yourself having trouble sleeping the night following considering the recent news, and you wondered whether contacting someone about it may have put you in some relief. Of course, your best friend comforted you, he spent the days doing his best to do ensure you were eating, drinking, and getting some fresh air instead of sticking around your bed all day. You had only been close friends with Mike for only a few months; you had met him at your work, as he was a customer who began to come in more and more regularly. He had ended up moving in with you, as he needed a place to stay and you needed help with the children. He was amazing with the children as well; they saw him as a father figure, even if that wasn’t your relationship at all.

Lay in your bed, you were crying once again; not having really stopped properly. Everything reminded you of him, no matter how simple it was. Taking your children to music lessons reminded you of, obviously, his music career and the effect it had had on the world. Eggs for breakfast reminded you of the time you got a phone call off Roger and Freddie asking how to boil an egg. Rory had a pair of maracas which reminded you of when Freddie took Rogers already stolen maracas and threw them into the audience. You had so many memories, but that’s all they were now and all they would ever be. And those were the only memories you had; you couldn’t make any more. The deafening silence of the room was broken by the ringing of the phone on the other side of the room, and you wondered who would be calling you; you debated whether you should even bother picking it up because it probably wasn’t important. However, when the phone rang a second time, you got out of bed and rushed over to the phone, assuming it must have been important for them to call a second time.

“Hello?” you groaned, rubbing the tears and sleep out of your vision as you yawned a little. You were only tired because of the fact you hadn’t slept for the past few day, but that was the least of your worries.

“H-hey. It’s Bri- I, I uh didn’t know if you got the news but uh...” he mumbled, and you could barely make out his words, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You could hear very clearly that he too was crying, the sounds of sniffles and his voice breaking being muffled as he tried to conceal them. Your heart broke to hear his voice sound so discouraged. He could barely end his sentence, he couldn’t cope to say the words, so you put him out of the misery.

“I did. I, uh, I read it in the newspaper; ironic.” you sniffles, letting a breathy but humourless laugh, hoping he would return one. But he didn’t. “How are you... coping”

“I’m going to be honest Y/N, I’m not. I-I can’t. I just, he’s gone...” he cried, letting out a loud sob at the last words. You knew. You didn’t need reminding that one of your best friends had gone; but he was grieving, and by the sound of it, a lot worse that you.

“I could, um, come over? We could both do with some comfort.” you suggested, your voice small and gentle because you didn’t want to make him any worse that he already was. Thankfully, you were still living quite close to the boys, despite the divorce, due to the fact the children were in school and you had a job close by that you had been in for the past 20 years. You didn’t hear him agree, just a small ‘mhm’ was enough for you to hang up and rush over to his.

Deciding to walk, you headed over to Brian in the hope that you wouldn’t run into any journalists on the way over. You weren’t particularly famous; but you were well known in the music industry due to being so involved with Queen, meaning it wasn’t uncommon for people to crowd you with constant questions of the boys, even after 2 years of sparse contact. Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid them; even at 11 at night. Paparazzi left right and centre following you as walked with your head hung low; it was more that usual, but that was only due to the context of interest.

“Have you heard the news of Freddie’s death?”

“What are the boys plans for Queen now that Freddie is dead?”

“Are the boys going to recruit a new lead singer for Queen?”

“Are you and Roger Taylor going to the funeral together?”

You scoffed in disgust at the absolute insensitivity of the media; you found it absolutely vile that people had such a crass and heartless reaction to Freddie’s passing. All they cared about was gossip; if Queen would last, if your relationship would respark, if the boys would replace Freddie. No thought of consideration for your feelings, your privacy. You simply told them all to fuck off, and that being such cold hearted wankers wouldn’t get them anywhere in life.

When you had arrived at Brian’s, you began to realise what you were actually doing; you hadn’t seen him in years, you blocked him out, and now your turning up at his house. You had every reason to at the time, but it still felt a little strange. You never really considered the effect of blocking out all 4 of them; they were all your closest friends and you spent a majority of your life with them. The only reason you avoided them all was because you didn’t want them to have to choose between friendship and their career; though, you were sure that they would’ve sided with Roger anyway. As you knocked on the door, you felt your heart start racing; your mind was still pinned on Freddie, just clouded with a bunch of other worries and fears as well.

“Hey” you heard Bri mumble, which made your head shoot up; you didn’t even notice the door had opened. The sight before you broke your heart; you thought you were a mess recently but you were nothing compared to Brian. He had bags under his eyes, his face pale and washed out making you believe he hadn’t left his house the past few days. “H-how have you been doing?”

“Honestly, I feel shit. But that’s probably nothing compared to how you have been feeling, Bri. I’m so sorry, for everything. I know what Roger did was wrong; but that didn’t mean I should’ve blocked and the rest of the boys as well. I just... I never thought that this would be way we reunite.” you lamented, pulling Brian in to a hug which you thought would never end with how tight you each were squeezing.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologise; you did nothing wrong. You had no reason to believe this would-“

“I did, Brian. Freddie had already told me. But I didn’t want to believe it was true so I didn’t; and then I ended up just forgetting. I’m a shit friend I know.” you whimpered, feeling your knees buckle underneath your weight as you fell to your knees. Brian rushed to help you back up, pulling you to your feet and dragging you over to his bed. As you were laid down, you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Love, when was the last time you ate? Or slept?” Brian concerned, pouring you a glass of water from the sink of his en-suite bathroom, and handing it over to you. You found it a little amusing; five seconds ago Brian could barely cope with himself, yet now here he was, caring for you like his child.

“I-I don’t know. I couldn't sleep last night, and I suppose I haven’t eaten in a few days; but that wasn’t anything to do with Freddie. I was like this after the whole Roger thing, and have been since, i-it’s nothing. What about you? I haven’t let you get a word in edge ways about how you’ve felt”

“T-that’s not important right now, besides, this is kind of taking my mind off things. You should get some rest, it’s not healthy to be getting this little sleep. A-and when you wake up, Anita and I were planning on getting some food ordered, if you’d want to join” he offered, helping you into his bed properly and pulling the covers over your body so you could properly rest. You didn’t answer, just nodded your head slightly to take up his offer before easily drifting off into slumber.

*****

“Why the fuck is she even here?” a muffled voice almost yelled, waking you from your previous sleep. You recognised it, it was too familiar.

“She needed some comfort, okay, and so did I! I called her to see if she had got the news, and she offered to come over - when she got here, she nearly fainted so I let her sleep in my bed. She hasn’t slept in days!” you knew that voice was Brian’s, obviously, you had only heard it an hour or two ago. That didn’t mean you could place the other voice yet, however. You pulled yourself out the bed, walking slowly towards the door to get more of a hint of who Brian was arguing with.

“She blocked everyone out Brian, why are you so forgiving?”

“Because she had every reason to, Roger! You were the one who cheated on her! She took it badly, extremely badly; I don’t know if you noticed, but she had lost a lot of weight since we last saw her, and not in a healthy way.” Brian yelled back, and you clocked onto who he was arguing with. Who was in the other room. Roger.

“I know it was my fucking fault! But she wasn’t the only one affected by it! She left, without letting me explain or anything, and now she just returns because Freddie’s dead? She didn’t even bother to visit him while he was ill!”

“Stop being so selfish Roger! She has every right to be here, and-”

“He’s not wrong.” you mumbled, making both boys turn and stare in your direction with shock plastered on their faces. Neither of them had heard you approaching the room, so of course they were startled by the rather pathetic interruption. Brian because he expected you to still be asleep, and Roger, well because he hadn’t seen you in 2 whole years. Roger couldn’t help but think how you were still the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, even if you had mascara stained eyes, and bedhead, and had lost a little weight like Brian said. “It might not justify what he did, but he’s not wrong. Hey”

“I-um, hey. L-long time no see, huh” Roger stuttered, pressing his hand to the back of his neck and rubbing lightly, looking basically anywhere but you. You didn’t blame him, but you were a little pissed that this was how he reacted to seeing you after 2 years of no contact.

“I’ll just go, Brian thank you for letting me come over, but I should probably get back to the kids” you sniffle, going to put your shoes on in an attempt to avoid looking in Roger’s direction again. It was strange; you didn’t think it would affect you to see him again after what he did to you, but it set something off. You knew you still loved him, and you knew you had loved him for the past 2 years. You didn’t know if you could say the same for him though.

“Did you leave them at home by themselves?” Roger questioned, furrowing his brows in a concerned manner. You weren’t sure if he was actually asking this, or if he was trying to insinuate something about you being a bad mother; but you scoffed and looked back at him before answering.

“No; Mike took them to their music lessons before I left, so they should be home by now. I just don’t want to leave them alone with Mike for too long” you explained, a little sarcastically. Of course, Roger’s face dropped at the mention of another mans name; were you remarried?

“M-Mike?”

“You’ll be there tomorrow, right? Fred would’ve wanted you there” Brian interrupted before you could answer Roger’s question, voice cracking a little when mentioning Freddie’s name. You nodded, sending Brian an emotionless smile; they seemed to be coming more often recently. You went to open the door, until you were stopped in your tracks by Roger again.

“W-wait. Can I... walk you home? I noticed your car wasn’t outside” he asked, looking down in shame but praying, just praying, you would say yes. You weren’t really sure why he was asking; only 5 minutes ago, he was arguing with Brian about the fact you had returned, and now he was acting all cute and friendly. But honestly, you had nothing to lose; you had really missed his company, no matter how bad his mistake was. ‘Mistake’... was it a mistake?

“Sure” you muttered, looking over to Brian who was now giving you a look of sympathy that you had to suffer through it. Roger raced to stand beside you, as if he needed to be near you to breathe, and he let out the longest breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. You wished Brian a farewell, completely forgetting to even greet Anita before leaving.

There was an deafening silence looming around you and Roger as you walked home, and you found yourself unable to even bring words to leave your lips. What was there to speak about? You couldn’t just ask how his life was, but you didn’t want to bring up what he did. You couldn’t bare to think of it; you had barely even got over the fact he had done it to you, you couldn’t do with hearing the incessant excuses pour out his mouth to get you back. But then again, maybe he had one. One valid enough that you let him back into your life. One valid enough that you open your heart to him once again. Start your relationship again. Start the family again. Love again.

But if you did that, you’d be breaking the one and only rule you made after divorcing him; do not, under any circumstances, give him the time of day. Because if he’s done it once, he could do it again. If you forgive him once, you could do it again. And he’ll use it to your advantage. It wasn’t a rule worth breaking, or was it?

“How is Felix getting along with his drumming?” Roger spoke up, coughing to clear his throat and interrupting the awkwardness. You hadn’t expected the audible, and it had admittedly stopped you in your tracks for a split second before you were brought back to earth. You decided the pity him, considering the topic of conversation was your children, and Roger hadn’t seen them in a while due to the band having recently released an album and the fact Freddie had been ill.

“Oh, erm, if I’m honest, it’s certainly not his area of expertise; he is really trying though. Just never going to be as good as his dad, and he understands that.” you chuckled, slipping your hands into the pockets of your coat and looking forward. Roger had always wanted one of his children to take after him, as in going into the music industry, but both Felix and Rory were yet to show any interest in learning an instrument. Felix had attempted to learn the drums, but only to please his father.

“I hope one of them goes into music; I’d love to have a mini me running around” he grinned, thinking of all the possibilities of a tiny-Roger creating chaos on the stage with his dad. That sure would be one heck of a concert, you thought.

“Well I’m sure their mother would definitely appreciate having multiple mini versions of her cheating ex-husband running around when she’s the one who has to care for them 24/7 because their father is too fucking busy all the time.” you snapped, not exactly sure where the words were coming from as they just spewed out your mouth. That wasn’t to say you didn’t agree with them though; Roger hadn’t exactly cared for the children the past few months. But you knew why he hadn’t, and now you felt like a bitch. Now was not the time and place to start an argument. Roger didn’t really react, in fact he responded in the exact opposite way that you expected him to.

“I know, I haven’t been a good father. I promise I’ll try better.” he mumbled, looking towards the floor with an almost disquieted tone. You expect him to be angry, to fight back at your words. But he wasn’t at all, because you were right; instead, he just felt guilty. Really fucking guilty for everything he had put you through.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. Well, I did but I worded it awfully and I was not thinking about what I was saying. I swear it just... came out” you tried to make the situation better, but you admittedly only made it worse. It was once again silence as you arrived at your door, and it was still completely locked up and lights off. You walked in, Roger waiting outside in reluctance to head any further than his welcome, but you gestured for him to come in in the hopes of having a proper conversation. You decided it was worth breaking the rule after all.

He was looking around at the house that was once his, where he lived with you, Felix and Rory. He missed it, so much. He missed waking up every morning in your bed and being faced with the angel of his wife. He missed coming downstairs to Felix helping his little sister to get dressed in her school clothes, because she always struggled with pulling on her tights. He missed the cuddles and kisses he’d receive from you everyday before he left for work and when he got back. He missed coming home from work to see you helping Felix with his maths homework, or doing craft with Rory. He missed spending his evenings cuddled up on the sofa as a family, as you watched The Little Mermaid for the 50th time (because Rory refused to watch anything else). He missed his family.

“Take a seat, do you want a drink? Coffee? Tea?” you asked, grabbing two mugs out of the kitchen cupboard and setting the kettle to boil.

“I’m okay, thank you. In fact, I should probably get going, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Rog, you’re not overstaying your welcome, I invited you in” you emphasised, placing down the steaming mug in front of him, even though he didn’t ask for one. You knew him, and you knew he’d end up taking sips out of your mug anyway. He gave you an understanding look, and took a gulp from the mug before sitting back into the couch, legs spread and hand on his knee; he looked rather uncomfortable, and you understood. You too were rather uncomfortable. “I also, uhm, I wanted to talk.”

“About what?” he questioned, and he was scared for your answer. Not that he didn’t want the chance to redeem himself, that’s all he wanted, he just wasn’t in a release-all-our-emotions kind of place right now. He wasn’t sure if he had any tears left to cry. Not after Freddie.

“Roger, stop acting oblivious. Before I... blocked everyone out, Freddie made me promise that when the day came, I’d talk to you. Give you a second chance. A chance to explain. And I don’t want to break that promise. So please, can we talk?”

“I-well, I’m not really sure what you want me to say.” you noticed Roger had started tearing up when you said Fred’s name. He was taking it so harshly, and you could tell; he looked like Brian had when you opened the door, but 10x worse.

“Just answer me this; why did you do it? After 10 years of marriage, why did you do that to me?” you asked, hearing your voice crack. You found it strange that you weren’t crying yet; in fact, it was Roger that was tearing up. You guessed that maybe you had ran out of tears, or perhaps the resentment you had felt when you first found out had returned so you weren’t even sad. Roger didn’t know how to answer, he really couldn’t, because he didn’t know why. Why had he done it? Had he even done it? The answer was no, nothing had happened that night. He had left the club, and the girl ran after him in an attempt to get him to sleep with her. He, obviously, turned her down, explaining that he had a wife and no interest at all in having sex with the German prostitute. But he wasn’t sure you would believe him - “Was it because you didn’t love me anymore? B-because you should’ve said. Obviously I wouldn’t have taken it well, but I’d have taken it better than finding out you cheated on me.”

“No, I promise you, I never ever fell out of love with you. Never have, never will. You won’t believe me when I say it, but nothing even happened. I swear, we didn’t sleep together-“

“Roger, I’m not in the mood to listen to your lies and fake excuses. Tell the truth”

“I am Y/N. I know it sounds fake but I promise you, I didn’t sleep with her. When I left the club, she chased after me and was begging me to sleep with her; that’s what the photos were, she even tried kissing me at one point. But I told her, I said I had a wife and I had no interest in having sex with her. She accepted it, as far as I knew, but I offered to pay for a hotel room at the place I was staying, because she seemed extremely drunk and like she could barely walk. I suppose people saw us in the car together and entering the hotel together and just assumed I was cheating on you. I promise you, I’m not lying.” he explained, trying his best to make you believe that he was telling the truth. And you knew he was because whenever he lied, he would scrunch his nose a little; this was something you had picked up on during your marriage. You couldn’t quite comprehend it; you had thrown away the best 10 years of your life because you trusted the media over your own husband.

“Why did she make that statement then?” you remembered the words ‘he lived up to the expectations of the nickname’ stained in ink on the paper, that fucking paper.

“I don’t know, I honestly have no idea; she seemed a bit pissed off I had turned her down, so maybe she made it up to mess up my life, I don’t know YN.” he insisted, praying that you would just listen to what he was saying. He wasn’t lying, and he wished he had the chance to explain this 2 years ago. “But I promise you, I never cheated on you. I tried telling you, but you wouldn’t let me explain-”

“Fuck.” you whispered, feeling your heart sinking. You had thrown away 10 years of marriage over a lie. And now you were finding out, with no idea how to take the information or what to do next. “I- Rog. I am so sorry.”

“No, Y/N, the only person who should be sorry is the media and that woman. I just wish I had the chance to explain before we split”

“I know. I wish I gave you the chance, I-I don’t know what to say. 10 years, thrown away.” you tried to put sentences together, but you were left speechless. On the brim of tears, you tried to hold them back but you just felt so stupid. It all made sense.

“I-I missed you so much, YN, I never stopped loving you. I wish I could say I was happy for you with Mike, but I still love you-“

“Hold on, you think I’m married to Mike? N-no, Roger, hunny. H-he just lives with me, he’s a close friend who offered to help look after the kids after I started struggling. I swear, I tried so hard to move on, but I haven’t. I cant. I hate to admit it, but I still love you; far more than I maybe should after what I believed.” you admitted, letting the tears spill down your cheeks in defeat. What were you to do now? Was it as easy as just getting back together? What do you tell the children; they’re father didn’t actually do anything wrong? “I- what do we do?”

“You mentioned that Freddie told you to give me a chance to explain. Well, Freddie made me promise to try, no matter how hard I had to, try and fix what went wrong. Take every chance I could to reignite the relationship. So, if you’ll let me, I want to try again; we can go slow, just a few dates to try and restart everything, and work towards it. But I love you, YN, and we can make this work again” he sounded so confident, sure that it would work. And maybe you were a bit reluctant to try again, what if it happened again and that time it was true. But it didn’t matter, you both still loved each other too much to dismiss this. You promised Freddie, and restarting your relationship with Roger may change your life for the better; since you had divorced, you had suffered some awful experiences. Roger could bring back the old you.

“I-uh, I think I’d like that.” you grinned, releasing yourself from the pain that had been holding you back all these years. It couldn’t hurt to just go on a date with him. He took you into his arms, holding your whole body close to his, so close that you could feel his heart beating rapidly. Rogers face came close to yours, his breath warm against your skin as you kept eye contact. His enticing, blue eyes flicked up and down, landing on your lips every now and again, moving his hand to place it flush against your reddened cheek.

“C-can I kiss you?” he whispered, praying you would say yes. He’d missed your touch so much, he wasn’t sure if he could wait and longer. And you didn’t leave him waiting; you connected your lips to his immediately, pressing them flush against his plump, slightly chapped lips. It was as if your whole body was set alight, heat and passion spreading through your body in a rush. You felt the whole world around you fall away. It was slow and gentle, soothing in ways that words could never be. Yet still so erotic and passionate, after 2 years of no contact with the man who made you feel high desire. You couldn’t let him go now, your feelings of lust and infatuation confirmed with this one, single kiss.

“I promise I am never letting you go again.” he mumbled, resting his forehead gently against yours as he caught his breath. You too having to catch your breath, as you were left breathless from the sudden moment of passion.

You mentally noted that promise, because you never wanted him to let you go again. You wouldn’t let him.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen #roger #taylor #angst

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duchessofostergotlands · 5 years ago

Note

oh geez tell us about your flatmate, i need all the gossip as a distraction from corona

I’m scared to ask what your roommate did when you were staying at a hotel for the week but I guess I’ll take one for the team

Ok so they were doing renovations in my room and I had to move out - with cat - for a week. I came back on the Saturday, they hadn’t really finished my room so I sat in the kitchen with the cat. I couldn’t see my flatmate around which isn’t unusual for a Saturday as he’s a vibrant social butterfly. But I heard some moving around so I wasn’t sure if he was in or not. I think he expected me back on the Sunday so I thought maybe he was just chilling. Anyway I just carried on with my business, no big deal. I was sitting there and suddenly this guy comes out of my flatmate’s room. He can get lucky, not my life. The guy freaked out because my cat ran up to him and he was like “I don’t like cats” and I just said “ok” because otherwise I would have said “he doesn’t like strangers in his house.” Guy left, no biggie. But then the door opened like ten minutes later and this other guy walks out and uses the bathroom - clear walk of shame - and then leaves. Fast forward another twenty minutes and a THIRD GUY LEAVES THE ROOM! So basically while I was away my flatmate had a straight up orgy with three dudes.

#ask #anon #non royal #personal

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (15) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: oh u thought the worst of the angst was over? it’s only just begun. apologies in advance hnggggggg. love is always appreciated here or over on my blog! love and hugs xxxxxxxxx

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Scarlet helped Vanessa deal with the aftermath of the breakup, aided by lecture-skipping and the prospect of a pink-haired rebound. Monet was gearing up to ask Nina to be her girlfriend in the most elaborate of ways, and Scarlet and Yvie finally said the most important three words to each other since “let’s get takeaway”.

this chapter: it’s Valentine’s Day, Brooke is a living flip flop, and something happens that nobody saw coming.

***

“Ayo. We’ve got a mouse.”

Brooke finally got her jacket off that she’d been struggling with and faced Yvie, who was lounging on the sofa in their little living room in front of the TV. “Well isn’t that a romantic Valentine’s Day greeting.”

“Well we do,” Yvie shrugged, Brooke leaving her bag on the kitchen table and joining Yvie in front of Coronation Street. “This storyline has been going for about a year, I swear to God.”

“Should you not be out doing romantic shit with Scarlet?” Brooke asked, hearing how monotone her voice was but unable to take it back now. Yvie looked across at her and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s got uni. I’m picking her up from her flat at five, we’re going for drinks and then out to the restaurant.”

“Picking her up with what, your bare hands?” Brooke let out a small laugh, Yvie chucking a couch cushion at her and snorting.

“Shut up. I’ll get an uber. I might even get an uber exec, really push the boat out,” she quipped, Brooke laughing again. As her laughter died down, Yvie tilted her head. “So what’re your plans for tonight?”

Brooke groaned and tilted her head to the ceiling. “I’ll be fine. I’ll stick on some films, eat some chocolate. Maybe skype my parents. I’ll be fine.”

“You said that twice.”

“Well I will be.”

Yvie made a click with her tongue. “And we all know the hallmark of a person who’s fine is if they have to repeat it about twenty billion times.”

“Yvie Oddly, ladies and gentlemen, queen of exaggeration,” Brooke said sarcastically, Yvie giving a sarcastic flourish of her hand right back at her. In the conversational lull, Brooke checked her phone. All over her instagram page there were couples; disgusting, happy couples who really were just making an embarrassment of themselves with their totally cringeworthy captions. “Happy Valentine’s Day to my number one” with every heart emoji under the sun, “happy vday baby i love u” beneath a picture of someone’s boyfriend pulling a silly face, and the worst, “he’s ok”, the understated caption contrasted by the horrendously soppy picture of a couple that Brooke knew from back home kissing for the camera.

Brooke had a cheek, she supposed. She’d made her bed- breaking up with Vanessa, as difficult as it was, was supposed to make her happier and make everything go back to normal. But it hadn’t. Knowing how much she’d hurt Vanessa brought no happiness to her at all, nor did it make her life any easier. Seeing her post sad, slow R&B song after sad, slow R&B song to her instagram story didn’t alleviate her guilt, nor did her radio silence on the group chat. Brooke had seen her only once since the breakup- across the square on campus when Vanessa didn’t realise Brooke could see her, flanked by Silky and Akeria, wearing baggy clothes and not a scrap of makeup, her face and eyes puffy and red. There was nothing about Brooke that was relieved; she desperately wanted to be there for Vanessa, to dry her tears and talk shit about herself. She had the deepest desire to be a friend to her through the breakup she had been the cause of, because ultimately she still cared about her. Brooke didn’t know if that was normal or not. She was past caring or trying to figure it out.

What was she going to do tonight? Yvie was out with Scarlet, Nina was at Monet’s right that minute. Plastique had told her in the library the other day that she was going for drinks with Ariel (“the most casual of drinks”, she’d said, although Brooke knew it would be anything but casual). She didn’t know what the others would be doing. Akeria would probably drag Vanessa on a night out and Silky wouldn’t need much encouragement to go either. It looked like Brooke was in for a night by herself after all.

Mid-scroll, one of the uploads caught Brooke’s eye- a photo from months back at Vanessa’s birthday night out of all eight of them together, dressed up and smiling with their arms around each other. It was only a few seconds later that Brooke realised she was smiling at it, completely unaware that her facial expression had changed. She wished they could all go back to October. She would exchange all the hurt and the guilt and the sadness that she’d caused in exchange for pining for Vanessa for the rest of her days. Her eyes drifted down to the caption, and her stomach plummeted when she realised who it was posted by.

missvanjiemissvanjie Happy Valentine’s Day to my day ones! Best bitches I could ask for in my life. Love you!! 💓

Brooke scanned the photo again. She hadn’t been cropped out, even though she was on the edge of the photo- the curse of being tall, Nina had called it. Her heart began to spring to life. This was a good sign. Vanessa clearly didn’t hate her, and somewhere deep inside her was a want to be friends again and go back to how things used to be. Injected with optimism, Brooke clicked on Vanessa’s messages. She paused for a moment, looking back at the last ones they’d sent- the day of the breakup, Brooke asking to talk, Vanessa wondering if everything was alright. It felt like a harpoon to her stomach.

Trying to stay positive, Brooke typed out a message.

B: Hey. Hope you’re doing okay. I know we said we still wanted to try and be friends so I was wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out tonight? Just as friends obviously. Since everyone else will be busy. Let me know.

Brooke’s finger hovered over the “x”. She decided against it. Hitting send, she found herself waiting anxiously for a reply.

“How do you know we have a mouse anyway?” Brooke asked Yvie, her words suddenly registering. Yvie shrugged.

“Ran across the worktop about five minutes before you came in.”

“What the hell are we going to do about it, then? I don’t want to even imagine what Nina’s reaction’s going to be if she sees it,” Brooke shuddered.

Yvie laughed. “No, Scarlet’s going to be the same. I don’t know, she looked like a nice lil’ fucker. I think we should get a cage. Put a block of cheese in it and then keep her as a pet."

Brooke felt her phone vibrate twice. Picking it up to check it and seeing that both the messages were from Vanessa, she nonchalantly carried on the conversation. "So Scarlet would be fine with that, would she?”

“Scarlet isn’t here all the time.”

“No, just 99% of it,” Brooke raised her eyebrows, opening Vanessa’s messages.

V: lmao

V: Are you on crack. You broke my heart two weeks ago and now you’re trying to be my friend already. Have you never heard of a thing called a healing process?

Brooke felt her stomach tense. She hovered her thumbs over her screen to reply, but nothing she thought of seemed to make sense or be the slightest bit appropriate. Despondent, she was about to close her phone when another message shot through.

V: And I’m busy anyway. So it still would have been a no.

Well, that was that. Vanessa was out with Silky and Akeria, and clearly she wasn’t invited. That was fine. Brooke could have kicked herself. She instantly wished she’d never been so tone-deaf. It had been a stupid suggestion. Of course Vanessa wasn’t going to be best friends with her a fortnight after they’d broken up.

Brooke couldn’t help the fact that she missed her, though. Even just as a friend.

“Hey, panini head? Are you listening to me?” Yvie suddenly yelled, her best Gordon Ramsay impersonation catching Brooke off-guard.

“What?”

“I said, would you look after Mrs Tibbs if I went home for the weekend?”

Brooke rubbed her temples in confusion. “Who’s Mrs-”

“The mouse! Jesus, Brooke, have you been on this earth for the past five minutes?” Yvie laughed, then gradually a frown spread onto her face. “What’s wrong?”

Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been showing her guilt and disappointment on her face. She sighed. “It’s nothing. I just still feel bad. About Vanessa, you know.”

Yvie furrowed her brow. “Listen, girl, I know dumping someone is hard and it’s unpleasant. Shit, I would know, I’ve had to do it enough times. But there comes a point where you’ve got to stop beating yourself up about it. I mean you ultimately did what was best for the pair of you. It wasn’t fair to string her along if you didn’t want to be with her. It hurts her now, but it’s better in the long run.”

Brooke nodded. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder…

…it didn’t matter.

Brooke’s phone vibrated again. She hoped and prayed it wasn’t another text from Vanessa to berate her for her shitty idea. What was to come would actually make her feel a hundred times worse.

Okay Then: happy valentines day fuckers!!!!!!! even though im out being soppy tonight i still want u all to know that ur my main bitches and number ones and i love u all sm 💖💖💖

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: You’re disgusting. Love you too hoe xxxxxx

Yvie’s Bitch: Awwwwwww Plastique!!!!! We love you too!!!!

Yvie’s Bitch: What’re everyone’s plans for Valentine’s Day?????

Scarlet’s Bitch: i don’t know i’ve got plans with this weird girl called……Scarface? idk i’ll probs cancel on her

Yvie’s Bitch: Suck my clit x

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag For Life: Children PLEASE

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: HAPPY INTERNATIONAL DAY OF FUCKING

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ME N KIKI GOING OUT ON THE TOWN LOOKING FOR THIRD DIVISION FOOTBALL PLAYERS

Okay Then: oh bitch aim high? second division xo

Brooke’s heart dropped twenty storeys when she saw who was typing. Their names on the chat had been quietly changed back, but Brooke still knew who it was.

cursed SatNav voice: Happy Valentine’s Day hoes 💓💓💓

cursed SatNav voice: Even though all you couples can suck a bag of dicks

Scarlet’s bitch: gladly, bitch 💜

Okay Then: Vanj are u not going out with Silk n Kiki?? bc if not ur welcome to join me n Ariel!! it’s just casual!!

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YES PLASTIQUE IM SURE SHED LOVE TO THIRD WHEEL U AND UR HONEYMOON PHASE FLATMATE

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: anna ou

cursed SatNav voice: 💓 That’s sweet but I’m busy tonight!! Thanks though boo

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: SHE GOT A DATE ANYWAY

Time seemed to freeze. Brooke couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe. All she was able to do was blink at her phone screen as the chat blew up around her. It was only after a few moments that she realised Yvie was looking at her.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Um. Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Brooke stammered, nodding and putting her phone down in a futile effort to seem relaxed. Yvie gave a laugh.

“Brooke, you can’t break up with her and then get mad she’s going on a date with someone else.”

Brooke bristled. “No, that’s not it, that’s not it at all.”

There was a small silence as Yvie typed away at her screen, her eyebrows raised in a defiant show of disbelief. In the silence, Brooke gathered her thoughts.

“I’m just kinda…I don’t know. Not hurt, but…I mean I thought she cared about me a bit more than to be over me in the space of two weeks.”

Yvie gave a gasp, clutching at her heart. “Oh! The fragile ego of Miss Brooke Lynn Hytes. The wings of a moth cannot compare, nor the web of a spider!”

“You know, you can be a really shit friend when you want to be,” Brooke spat, getting up without a second thought and storming through to her bedroom. She threw herself down on her bed and curled up into a small ball, wishing the world would give her a break.

Her ego was hurt. Her pride was battered and bruised. She supposed she’d been so used to being revered and cared for in the eyes of Vanessa that she found it odd for that to no longer be the case. Brooke sighed. Yvie was right- she wasn’t supposed to care this much, she was supposed to be happy. Fuck, shouldn’t this have been the ideal outcome? Vanessa had moved on already.

So why did Brooke feel absolutely gutted?

She sat on her bed in the cold of her room, stewing in her thoughts, trying to figure them out and failing. She didn’t know how long she’d been there for but it had clearly been enough time for Yvie to make a cup of tea, as Brooke found when her flatmate gave a gentle knock on her door and shuffled in with the Sports Direct mug in her hand.

“Hey,” Yvie began, crossing the room and putting the mug down on Brooke’s cluttered bedside table. She sighed and lay down on top of Brooke in what could have been a cuddle or an attempt at smothering her to death. “Brooky, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. She used to call me that and…” Brooke began, sighing when she couldn’t figure out why she had an issue with it. “I don’t know.”

Brooke wrestled an arm free from under Yvie’s stomach and brought it to rest over her back. It felt more like a cuddle now.

“I knew she was going on a date, by the way. Scarlet told me the other day. I just didn’t think you’d give a fuck,” Yvie said quietly. Brooke exhaled and felt her ribcage deflate.

“I didn’t think I would either,” she said, feeling small. There was a pause. “What’s her name?”

“Monique. The girl from Monet’s party with the purple hair,” Yvie said. It felt like a stab through Brooke’s chest. She remembered Monique, she remembered the way Vanessa had laughed at her stories and the way Monique had looked at her and the obvious chemistry between them. “If it helps, Brooke, I don’t think it’s going to be anything serious. Scarlet said that apparently she literally gave Vanjie her number and was like ‘In case you ever want a rebound’. They’ve been messaging all week. Tonight’s more of a 'fuck Valentine’s Day’ drink than anything else.”

Brooke thought about Vanessa’s perfect body, about her touching Monique the way she used to touch Brooke, talking to her like she used to talk to Brooke, someone else making her come apart the way Brooke used to. Brooke rolled out from under Yvie, grabbed her pillow, and buried her face in it, letting out a long, loud groan.

“Do you feel like you fucked it?” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice ask matter-of-factly. Brooke brought the pillow off her face and whined.

“No! No, I made the right decision. I didn’t want to be Vanessa’s girlfriend. It’s just fucking…weird. It doesn’t exactly fill me with glee thinking of her with somebody else, you know?”

Yvie smirked. “Because you know Monique’s going to fuck her better?”

Brooke launched the pillow at her flatmate, Yvie giggling. “Sorry! Sorry! Fuck, okay, point taken. Inappropriate.”

There was a silence. Yvie’s joke still hung in the air.

“Well, as long as you feel like your decision was correct,” Yvie smiled gently, patting Brooke’s thigh. “Then that’s the main thing. And it’s natural to get a little jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, Jan,” Yvie raised her eyebrows and began to slide off Brooke’s bed. “Look, I’ve got to go get ready for dinner. You sure you’ll be fine?”

“Well I said it about twenty billion times, remember?” Brooke deadpanned, earning her a laugh from Yvie. “Just go. Go have fun. Have the best night, baby. You two deserve it.”

Yvie leant down and gave Brooke one last little squeeze before leaving her bedroom and going back into her own. Now she was alone with her thoughts Brooke wanted desperately to silence them so she grabbed her laptop and shoved on the least romantic film she could think of- Kingsman. As she sipped her tea and watched a man get completely sliced in half from skull to anus, she thought that would only be slightly less painful than what her emotions were currently putting her through.

As Taron Egerton refused to kill his dog, Yvie shouted a goodbye to Brooke.

As Colin Firth went absolutely mental in a church and killed everybody single-handedly, Brooke grabbed her phone and deleted all of her messages with Vanessa.

As the end credits rolled, Brooke wondered what the fuck she’d done. Two and a half years of friendship gone and deleted in the blink of an eye. But maybe it was for the best.

Brooke had been scrolling Netflix searching for something else to watch for what could have been an entire hour when she heard four things in rapid succession- the heavy bang of the front door, a scurry of hurried footsteps across the hall, the bang of Nina’s fire door and then a rapid sobbing that poured out of whoever was in the room and through Brooke’s wall. Brooke’s previously lethargic body sprang to life and she shot off her bed, took three quick steps to her door and hurried out into the hallway where she knocked on Nina’s.

“Nina? What’s happened?”

The sobbing continued from inside, Brooke unsure if the girl had even heard anything. Hesitantly, she pushed on the door.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

With no response other than more sobbing and a snuffle, Brooke entered Nina’s room. There was her usual organised dressing table with her makeup strewn all over it, indicative of a rushed getting-ready process. On her usually tidy floor was a mess of tried-on-and-rejected clothes, and there on the Aristocats-patterned duvet curled up with her stuffed teddy was Nina, absolutely crying her eyes out. Brooke practically vaulted the end of her bed to get to her flatmate who was squashed in between her pillows and the wall in the foetal position.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong?” Brooke asked her, pulling her close and wrapping her arms around her. Nina batted her away weakly.

“Don’t, Brooke, don’t, fuck, getting held is just going to remind me of her and I don’t-” Nina descended into another burst of sobs, Brooke completely and utterly confused.

“Monet? I thought you guys were fine? Oh my God, Nina, she didn’t break up with you?!” Brooke asked, scared and trying to fight the sinking feeling taking root in her chest. Nina elegantly wiped her nose on her teddy and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, rubbing harshly and leaving her looking like a human panda.

“She didn’t break up with me,” Nina sniffed, finally seeming to calm down.

“Oh, thank fuck.”

“I broke up with her.”

This was at least twenty times worse than what Brooke had feared. Pulling away, she fixed Nina with a look of complete incredulity. “You did what?!”

Nina rubbed at her eyes again, this time with her fingers. “Yeah, because obviously I can’t have anything fucking half-decent in my life without completely sabotaging it or making it go to shit, can I? I broke up with her, I’m a fucking idiot. Happy?”

Brooke could only blink in response as Nina leaned back and let her head hit the pillow, her stare boring into the ceiling. Her thoughts were all colliding. This was the most sudden and unexpected event, and it had completely knocked her for six. “Rewind. I thought you and Monet were fine?”

“We were fine,” Nina sighed so deeply that Brooke wasn’t sure she would have any air left in her lungs. “I was so fucking happy, Jesus. But there’s always a catch, right? Nobody can stay that happy forever, it’s always got to come to an end at some point.”

She stopped and sat up, propping her head against the headboard. Not looking Brooke in the eye, Nina continued. “She started being really distant with me. Not replying to texts for ages, being really deep in thought when we were together. I’d ask her what was wrong, but…she’d just always say nothing was. I was over at her flat the other night, we’d had a nap together and I woke up and she wasn’t there. I went into her living room and she was there with two of her flatmates. They stopped talking the second I got in, honestly I might as well have caught them all in the middle of a massive fucking orgy,” Nina laughed humourlessly. “And then it clicked. It all started after I told Monet about you and Vanessa. Nothing bad…just about how you weren’t sure, and how it’s better to just break up with somebody if you’re having second thoughts about them. It all made sense. Her being distant, always seeming off, obviously talking to her flatmates about it and having to stop because I came in. She didn’t fucking want me anymore, Brooke.”

Shocked, Brooke could only put her arms around her friend as she leaned into her chest and began to cry again. Nothing about it seemed to fit. Monet was absolutely head over heels for Nina, anyone could have seen it. It all seemed so out of the blue and sudden. Brooke tried to think about the last time Monet had been over at the flat. It had been about a week ago and Monet had seemed fine- although, now that Brooke thought about it, Monet had seemed a little quiet. Almost nervous, Brooke considered. But she was still cuddling Nina and giving her small kisses and paying her attention. It didn’t make any sense. Brooke frowned. “Nina, are you sure she actually wanted to break up with you?”

“I wondered it too. Because I didn’t want to believe it, of course. But then yesterday we were just lying in bed doing nothing. She was on her phone and my head was on her chest. I saw what was on her screen just for a second and she’d fucking-” Nina sighed, cutting herself off. “- typed this guy’s name into Google. Obviously some guy she’s met and she’s trying to find him on social media. I actually felt like I’d been stabbed, Brooke. Obviously she saw me, because she only got as far as the first name and then closed her phone. But I know what I saw, you know?”

Brooke’s frown only got deeper. “But that makes no sense. Why would she look someone up on Google, what is this, the fucking 90’s?”

“Brooke, you weren’t there. You should have seen how quickly she shut her phone off, and she was instantly all over me and telling me how lucky she was and-” Nina’s speech was interrupted by a bubble of a sob. “Oh fuck, it hurt so much. And today she woke up with me and was all "Happy Valentine’s Day!” and all that shit. I couldn’t do it, Brooke. I couldn’t make myself look like an idiot any longer. I suggested going for coffee and while we were out I just…I just fucking did it. Oh my God, it was so so bad, Brooke. She looked so fucking destroyed and she was so pissed off with me that I thought it was all a mistake but…fuck, I didn’t know what to believe. I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’ve done.“

Brooke sighed, desperately not wanting to believe it was over between the two girls. "But didn’t she explain herself? I mean what did you actually say to her? Did you confront her?”

“Jesus, no! No, I didn’t want to make it look like I was this poor, lovesick, pining idiot who was making a fool of herself over her! I jumped before I was pushed. I pretended I was the one whose feelings had changed, that it wasn’t working for me anymore. It was all a crock of shit, but she obviously believed it.”

Brooke bit the skin at the side of her thumb. There was a silence. “But didn’t she try to make you stay? Didn’t she fight for you?”

“She-” Nina cut herself off. Brooke looked down and saw tears pouring down her face, and her heart broke. “- she just sat and looked at me. Something in her eyes just…shut down. They just went all glassy, like those black marbles you got as a kid, remember? Anyway I said my piece and she just…ugh, she just nodded. She just nodded and went "Right. Got it.” in the most cold voice and then she got up, put on her coat and left. And I let her.“

With that, Nina swept her hands under her eyes and heaved a gut-wrenching shudder of a sigh. Brooke was at a loss of what to say. She had thought Nina and Monet were made for each other, and the fact that Nina had thrown it away for the sake of what Brooke was sure had to be a misunderstanding was gutting. She heaved a similar sigh to Nina’s.

"Look at us. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’re both single, we’re both here regretting breaking up with someone-”

“Wait what?” Nina asked suddenly, eyeing Brooke with suspicion. It was only then that Brooke had realised what she’d said. Startled, she backtracked.

“Well, I mean, not regretting breaking up with her, just regretting causing her hurt,” she said, Nina nodding quietly. Although Brooke was still spooked. Why had that thought popped into her head, let alone out of her mouth? She didn’t regret breaking up with Vanessa. It was the ick, just like Plastique had said. She had changed her mind. She couldn’t exactly change it back.

Could she?

“Why don’t we watch a film? I’ll bring my laptop through, get snacks from the kitchen. You don’t even need to move from this room. Or this bed,” Brooke suggested, ignoring the dangerous thoughts swirling round her mind. Nina gave a sniff and a silent nod.

“21 Jump Street?” she offered hopefully, Brooke unable to help the small laugh that escaped her mouth at the suggestion.

“This from the queen of Disney?”

“Disney’s too happy for me right now,” Nina moped, wiggling underneath her duvet cover. Brooke screwed up her face.

“Too happy? C’mon, you’ve seen Bambi. And Lion King. And Big Hero 6. And-”

“Brooke I swear to God if you don’t go get your laptop and stick on 21 Jump Street,” Nina warned, not finishing the empty threat. Laughing, Brooke did as she was told. She could only hope that the film would be enough of a distraction to her and to Nina for the next two hours.

She had no idea what they’d do once those two hours were up.

71 notes · View notes

hogwartsfirebolt · 6 years ago

Note

Number 12 please!! For the prompt thingy x

Thank you for the prompt ❤️

Drarry + 12: Roommates AU (omg they were roommates)

This is how it goes: Ron and Hermione are together, Neville and Hannah are together, Luna and that guy Rolf are together, Ginny and Cho are together—which is just hilarious, honestly, Harry finds it simply hysterical— and now they’ve got their sharp little eye on Harry.

This is how it goes: Pansy and Anthony are together, Greg and Millie are together, Daphne and Theo are together, Blaise and that older girl are together —Draco isn’t even sure she exists, he thinks it might just be Blaise’s reflection in drag— and now they’ve got their sharp little eye on Draco.

And well, thanks, but NO thanks. Friday night drinks are already damn uncomfortable when everybody is getting cozy with their partner and Harry and Draco end up pressed together at the end of the booth, trying to pretend that their, dare I call it friendship —more like past enmity that they shoved underneath the rug when their friends suddenly befriended each other— isn’t awkward as fuuuuck. (“So, uh, you opened a bookstore. That going well?” “Yes. Heard you left the Aurors to write memoirs. That going well?” “Sure is.”) They don’t need the added stress of their friends wanting to send them on blind dates with randos.

Yeah. Yeah. Thanks, but NO thanks.

This is how it goes: their friends confess they hate seeing them lonely, they hate knowing that each of them goes home at the end of the day to an empty bed, they’re 30, and are they really going to spend their sexiest years alone?

This is how it goes: Draco has just opened a bookstore and, coincidentally, Harry lives across the street from it. It’s not like they’re friends, but their friends are friends, and so Harry invites him to his flat for a drink one night after Draco closes the shop. It’s not so bad. It’s easier to talk to each other when they don’t have to yell over pub music —there’s only so many things you can talk about while Britney sings Toxic— and, actually, they sort of have a lot in common? They work with words, they love that cheap white rum they sell in corner shops, and they went through some pretty dense stuff as teenagers. And their friends are being unbearable about setting them up.

Pfft. They’re mental. I’m not lonely! I’m happy living here, and I have a cat.

I’m not lonely either! Sure, the Manor is a little big for me these days, and it takes a long floo jump to get to work every morning, but it’s not so bad.

And anyway, we don’t even need to be dating someone to not be lonely. That’s the whole point of having friends.

Definitely. And platonic roommates exist.

Roommates!!! A friend you live with. Not an empty home! Not an empty … — Malfoy. Malfoy I have an idea.

And so, there’s a contract that goes like this: they can never (underlined and circled in red) eat each other’s food, use each other’s shampoo or shaving cream —Not like you need it for that peach fuzz, Malfoy— let their one-night stands stay for breakfast, have sex in communal areas, skip the chores marked on the calendar pinned to the fridge and, especially, let their friends forget about the fact that they’re not living alone anymore.

Boy does it backfire.

Harry uses Draco’s shampoo. Draco uses Harry’s shaving cream for the two hairs on his chin. Harry eats Draco’s quail eggs. Draco eats Harry’s shakshouka. Draco begins to wear soft jumpers that belong to Harry around the house. Harry steals Draco’s shirts when he has to meet a potential agent. Each of their sex dates sometimes stay way, way past breakfast —Draco, I have to do my yoga in half an hour, tell that dude to fucking leave already— way, way past the afternoon —Harry, I swear if this girl isn’t out of the house by the time I come back from the bookshop, I will have your head.

They fight. They fight so much. It’s “I told you not to use my shampoo!” at night and “There’s no shaving cream left. Why the fuck is there no shaving cream left” in the morning. It’s “I told you I was taking this lunch to work and you ate it anyway, do you even listen to me when I talk to you?” and “I was gonna bring curry to Ron and Hermione’s, but you and your stupid fuck friend ate all of it.”

They fight everyday, it’s so exhausting, every single day — except for Mondays, that is. Mondays are sacred. On Mondays their friends visit, and Harry and Draco are the perfect flatmates, the perfect friends, they are happier than ever, guys, can you believe how happy they are? Until the others leave, of course, but by then it’s usually past midnight and does it even count as Monday anymore? Nope, I don’t think so.

This is how it goes: one morning, on the very long walk Draco takes across the street to work, he is hit by a stray curse. Yeah, I know, right? That is so weird, that there was someone throwing curses at random at 9am on a Wednesday. That is so weird, that it hit a guy who used to be a Death Eater. Such a coincidence.

He ends up in Mungo’s. They reconstruct all of his thoracic vertebrae and tell him not to leave his bed for four weeks until he adjusts, and then to start walking little by little. He might have a limp forever, they say. He might have back pain forever, they say. He might have died if he hadn’t gotten to the hospital on time, they say.

Four weeks in bed are kind of a lot, especially for someone who lives on his own and has to do everything for himself, except Draco is not such a person, and he does have someone to help him at home. And Harry takes on that role the way he does everything in his life: taking the bull by the horns. He cleans the flat and does their laundry, he cooks for Draco and spoon-feeds him, he sits next to him for hours watching the cartoons and Mexican telenovelas Draco enjoys —“How do you even like these? They all have the same plot line and Teresa is kind of a really bad person” “Excuse you? Teresa is my role model. I don’t expect a brute like you to understand”— he helps him get to the toilet —“Merlin, this is so embarrassing” “You have nothing I haven’t seen, Malfoy, get on with it”— he sponge-bathes him and dresses and undresses him. He holds his arm when he begins to walk again. He goes with him the first time he’s back to the bookstore.

He writes about him, when he has time to sit in front of his typewriter again.

He thinks about him when he goes out one night after Pansy visits them and —You’ve been helping him non-stop for five weeks. You need to go out and relax! I’ll look after him tonight— He thinks about him as he apparates to the club, as he dances with a dark haired man, as he makes out with him out back, as they kiss and Will you take me home? He thinks about him when he says no.

The thing is. The thing is, their fights are not really that serious. The thing is, sometimes their arguments end up with them doubled over laughing because of some insult Draco came up with and It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll cook some more and I’ll pack it so you can take it to the bookstore tomorrow for lunch. The thing is, it becomes increasingly easier to behave on Mondays, and, without noticing, they’ve began to develop some other routines too. Pancake Thursday, post-Friday-night-drinks Monopoly —every time, Draco cheats every time— Sunday night Quidditch sitting in front of the TV and eating their weight in fish and chips, Draco sitting Harry down and taming his hair and choosing one of his own shirts to give to him before he meets a potential agent, a consultant, a representative of a publishing house. Harry folding one of his own jumpers after laundry day and putting it in Draco’s closet.

Harry goes back home that night having had a realization. He says goodbye to Pansy —Harry, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost— and stares at his ceiling for hours before being able to sleep.

The next morning, he makes Draco’s favorite breakfast and tries to recall when exactly he learned it was his favorite and when it became his go-to when he’s cooking in the mornings and whether those two things are related. Draco comes out of his own room in boxers and one of Harry’s t-shirts on slightly unsteady feet but refusing Harry’s arm when —No, no, I need to walk on my own or I’ll never get better— and he makes coffee for Harry and tea for himself and Harry wonders when this became routine, too, having breakfast together in each other’s clothes, that they use as pajamas.

He wonders when he started packing Draco’s lunch in the mornings; when Draco started buying his favorite brand of shaving cream so he wouldn’t run out; when they started hanging out together at night, sitting on their couch, reading, watching TV, gossiping about their friends; when he started going to the bookstore, his typewriter in his arms, to sit by Draco as they both work.

He wonders when they stopped bringing people to have sex with.

It’s at that point that he freaks out and immediately calls Laia, his fuckbuddy.

And it happens like this: it’s raining, because of course it is, and Draco throws a fit outside the bookstore, pretending to be mad about something when really, he’s just hurt Harry called Laia again.

It’s never been easy between them, has it? Of course it comes out in the middle of an argument, in the middle of the night, standing right in the middle of the street, drenched from head to toe. Of course that’s when it comes out.

Why are you acting like this?! It’s like you’re jealous or something.

Well, no shit! I’m jealous as fuck! What did you think!

Oh.

Well, honestly, it’s not like Harry didn’t know. It’s not like he wasn’t hoping this sex date would make Draco jealous or, at least, let Harry forget about the inconvenient feelings he’s found buried in his belly.

He grins, and —Are you smiling right now? Merlin help me, Merlin help me, I hate you so much, I hate you so—

Kisses in the rain are a thing of fairy tales. A thing of romcoms. In reality, they’re inconvenient, a little disgusting, hair sticking to faces and necks and water making the slide of lips uncomfortable but. But. It doesn’t even matter.

It’s never been easy between them. But it doesn’t matter.

This is how it goes: a full-sized bed is traded for a queen-sized one, Harry’s room becomes their room, Draco’s room becomes their study. Their toothbrushes sit together in one vase. Draco uses Harry’s shaving cream and Harry uses Draco’s shampoo. They cook together, they cook for each other, they cook and they dance while they cook, they cook and they stop for a kiss. Their wardrobes blend together.

And as for sex dates. They won’t be needing any of those. This is the new contract. Underlined and circled in red three times.

And so!!!! That’s how I would write this trope (which is one of my absolute FAVORITES)

SEND ME TWO TROPES AND I’LL TELL YOU HOW I’D WRITE THEM

#drarry #drarry drabble #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #mine #ask games #prompt #mywriting

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theasstour · 6 years ago

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0107. Lento assai.

Friday, 6 February 2015

FIC PAGE | CHAPTER SYMPHONY | WORD COUNT: 8k

NB: explicit language, alcohol

Storming out of the building, Y/N tried to calm herself down so she wouldn’t cry in public, as she was humiliated enough as it was. So humiliated in fact, that she wasn’t sure she could ever show her face to anyone ever again. That job interview had been so bad that she felt like throwing up, and she had no doubt that would be exactly what she would do when she got back to the flat. With all the jobs she had applied for she’d only hear back from a small handful, where one of those had been at Primark. And that was where she was sprinting out now. She zig-zagged her way through the horde of people, hoping all of them were having a better day than she was having. All Y/N wanted now was to get back to the flat, lay down in her bed, and forget this day ever happened.

On the tube on the way home, Y/N did what she was best at: thought about all the different ways she could have better her job interview. This always happened. She would make a complete twit of herself because she was so nervous, so the right words never entered her mind, and when she couldn’t speak properly it was kind of hard to answer someone as words were essential when you were being interviewed. All the four job interviews she had been to this last month had gone to complete poo, and she hated that she wasn’t able to control her emotions, her anxiety.

Walking into the flat, she could hear Tiana, Spencer and Finn in the kitchen. As much as she wanted to be in her room and cry to herself, she knew Tiana would sense something was wrong and would do anything in her power to make Y/N smile again. So, changing out of her interview clothes and into comfortable lounge wear, Y/N put her slippers on and walked into the kitchen.

“Hello, babes.” Tiana said, grinning. “You alright?”

Y/N only smiled and sat down beside Tiana who threw an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.

“Want to talk about the interview?” Finn asked, eyebrows raised in question.

Y/N shook her head.

“Okay,” Finn clapped his hands together. “Hope you girls are going to wear something slutty tonight, because I want nothing but the best for my best mate on his birthday.”

“Wasn’t his birthday on the 1st? Last Sunday?” Spencer asked.

“So?” Finn shrugged. “The geezer needs a distraction. He’s so stressed about uni.”

“Isn’t everyone, though?” Tiana chirped in, still rubbing Y/N’s upper arm and holding her close.

“Yea, but Harry is Harry.” Finn said. “If I was a girl, I’d dress so slutty for him I would’ve ended up standing on a street corner in-“

“-Piss off, Finn!” Tiana said, making both Spencer and Y/N chuckle. “I’m sure Y/N will wear something nice for him, won’t you, doll?”

“Sure, she will.” Finn nodded. “And what about you, Ti?”

“I’m not going.”

“Because of Danny?”

Tiana nodded.

“Don’t let that toss ruin everything. We want you there tonight.” Finn reasoned, sounding genuinely sad that Tiana might not come along tonight.

“Yea, I know, but at the same time I really don’t want to see him, you know what I mean? Like, I want to go, but I don’t.” Tiana removed her arm from around Y/N’s shoulders, and now it was Y/N’s turn to comfort her friend. Placing a hand on her thigh, she took Tiana’s hand in hers, reassuring her that whether she wanted to come tonight or not, it was fine.

“What happened between you two anyway?” Spencer seemed oblivious to the way Tiana tensed up, and Y/N squeezed her friend’s hand. “You never said.”

“She didn’t want to, Spenc.” Y/N answered, making Spencer look up from his phone where he was texting someone.

“We won’t talk about that. Sorry, Ti.” Finn said, looking at Spencer and then Tiana again. “How about I stay by your side all night, yea? Won’t let him get anywhere near you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want him anywhere near me, it’s just that-“ Tiana stopped herself, biting her lips together as she tried to form coherent sentences in her head. “Seeing him will make me cry.”

Y/N leaned into Tiana who leaned back, needing someone to carry her weight for her a little bit. Y/N would never make Tiana speak about anything she wasn’t ready to, and though she adored Spencer and everything about him, she found herself a little annoyed at how unobservant he had been asking Tiana that question. But by the way he was looking at Tiana now, like he knew he had been wrong bringing it up, she knew he wouldn’t ever speak about it again. It was no one’s place, and Tiana was clearly not happy talking about any of it.

“We won’t force you into anything, okay?” Y/N assured her. “If you feel like tagging along, you’re free to. And if you don’t want to, then that’s fine, too. Whatever you feel comfortable with, just know that no matter what, the whole flat will gladly scissor Danny’s balls off if he even glanced in your direction.”

Finn gasped, and Y/N looked over. “Y/N,” he said, hand on his heart. “I have never heard you talk like that before, mate.”

She laughed.

“Never heard you talk about balls before, didn’t know if you knew what they were.”

She laughed again, and so did Tiana and Spencer. Finn got up, walking over to the fridge to get the pizza he’d have for dinner, putting the oven on as he read on the back of the package.

“You guys reckon I could be blessed enough to shag tonight?” Finn asked, getting the baking paper out.

“You’re going on the pull?” Spencer grinned, putting his phone away. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting about that? I’m a peng geez, ain’t I?” Finn pointed at himself, rolling his hips. “I’m big with the ladies.”

“Oh God.” Tiana covered her eyes. “How I wish I had bad eyesight so I wouldn’t have witnessed that.”

“It turned you on, queen Ti, admit it.” Finn giggled, opening the pizza and putting it on the trey.

“So you’re going to go for it tonight?” Y/N smiled at her flatmate how smiled back, giving her a wink.

“I will try not to be loud if I bring the bird back here, lads. But no promises.” He said. “They agree with me a lot.”

“Jesus Christ!” Tiana made a grimace. “Can you not be a dog?”

“Not being a dog, just being truthful!” Finn defended himself, not being able to help his smile. “Who doesn’t like an honest man?”

“You’re being too open and too honest.” Tiana giggled, and so did Y/N. “But, mate, if you’re not taking the piss and you actually will go on the pull, then I might just come along just to watch that.”

Finn looked up from where he was hunched before the oven, a beam on his face. “Are you being for real? You’ll come?”

“Only if you make a complete ass of yourself trying to pull.”

Finn ran over to Tiana, picking her up and out of her chair. With his arms wrapped around her torso, and a screaming Tiana against him, he ran around the kitchen singing along to a Chainsmokers song Y/N didn’t know the name of. Spencer got his phone out, laughing at the two, and took a video, saving the happy moment on his phone so they could remember it forever.

“You always look so fit, Y/N.” Tiana said, putting on lipstick before she thought herself ready to go out.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror of Tiana’s room to check if her blue, vanilla and yellow checked mini shirt wasn’t too short. She wasn’t wearing tights underneath, so if her bum showed, so would her knickers, and she wasn’t too keen on that happening. Tucked into the skirt was a black turtleneck, on her feet a pair of Tiana’s black Dr Martens, and just at the top, some of her long white socks were showing. Along with her black leather Y/Net and a purse to match, Y/N was set to go.

“You sure the skirt won’t ride up and my bullocks will show?”

“Just make sure Harry’s around when that happens, babes, and you’re golden.” Tiana said, making Y/N blush.

When they were both done, they walked out into the kitchen where all their other flatmates were waiting, and then flat 34 was on their way again. Tiana and Y/N holding hands while in Tiana’s other was a Sainsbury’s bag with two bottles of wine; one for her and one for Y/N. In the front walked Finn and Ian, joking around, and Becky walked alone, texting on her phone with El and Blessing, Y/N guessed. Spencer and Annie walked in the back, talking about something Y/N couldn’t hear, and beside her Tiana was humming. It took them about 15 minutes to walk to Cotton Row Halls, the most expensive of the four student accommodations at Battersea Uni. Y/N had never been there before, but as she stood outside the all-white building, she knew it would she would be very overwhelmed when she walked inside.

Sending Wade a message, Finn put his phone back in his pocket and waited until his friend opened the front door, grinning at all of them. Instead of taking the lift, they all walked up to flat 8, Finn and Wade talking excitedly in the front. The rest of flat 34 had been here for predrinks during Freshers Week, but this was Y/N’s first time in flat 8, and for some reason this had her very nervous. She shimmied her skirt down as they reached the flat, making sure it wasn’t too far up, and tried to ignore Tiana giggling at her.

“Flat 34, boys!” Finn shouted as they strolled through the door, walking straight into a white communal area. “Let’s get drinking!”

Y/N let Tiana walk in front of her, though they were still holding tightly onto one another as Danny came into view, sitting beside El and Blessing. Becky instantly walked over to them, sitting down and gossiped right away, clearly having a lot on her heart. Ian placed a hand on Tiana’s shoulder as they found a place around the dining table. Everything was white, Y/N noticed, and everything looked so incredibly clean compared to Westbridge. The kitchen counters weren’t filled with dirty dishes, packs of mouldy bread, and crumbs. Their walls were smeared with questionable substances, bumps and ants. The floor wasn’t carpeted, but it wasn’t dirty either, it was literally shining straight up at Y/N when she examined it. Cotton Row was everything Westbridge wasn’t, and somehow Y/N didn’t mind that. Westbridge had grown on her. And no matter how much she hated it at times, she had also had the time of her life there so far.

After looking at the flat, Y/N hated herself for searching the room. Hated herself for letting her heart race a little. Hating herself for feeling disappointed when she couldn’t find him.

“How much have you lot had to drink?” Finn asked from Y/N’s left, sitting beside Danny so neither Y/N nor Tiana had to.

“None, bruv.” Wade said. “Waiting for Harry. Takes fucking ages to get ready, so far up his own arse when it comes to clothes.”

“I think that’s hot.” Becky said, opening her Malibu and pouting some into a plastic cup. “Not enough blokes care how they dress.”

“Oh, hold on, Becky, that’s not true!” Ian said, face in an offended furrow. “I care how I dress!”

“But you don’t dress like Harry, do ya?” She cocked her head, making El and Blessing giggle, and Tiana roll her eyes a little.

“Birthday boy’s gotta look lush, yea?” Harry walked out of one of the two corridors, smiling like he always did. Y/N almost gasped as he walked out, looking so good something inside her brain shifted. The green jumper he was wearing brought out the green in his eyes, and the white collar by his neck emphasised just how sharp his jawline was. With a pair of dark grey trousers, a black belt holding them up and a silver chain hanging down from the right side of his hips, Harry looked absolutely stunning. He strode over to the table, sitting down between Becky and Wade, leaning across the table to shake Finn’s hand, only for a single second locking eyes with Y/N before he looked away, smile widening.

“Can we start drinking now?” El asked, putting some of her blonde hair behind her ears. “I want to get hammered.”

“Haven’t shown Y/N around the flat yet.” Harry said, making Y/N blink and look right across the table at him. “Doesn’t know where the loo is-“

“-It’s that way.” El said, pointing to the corridor behind her and Y/N looked, a little confused as to which door it was but she didn’t voice her concern. “Now let’s get drinking.”

Y/N glanced back at Harry who seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek while looking at El, not a very fond expression on his face before he looked back at Y/N. She knew Harry had a small – or a very big – difficulty living with El and Blessing, something that had started the second they moved in together, and that had only grown since then, especially when they had a party and completely trashed his room. And to be quite honest, because of this Y/N wasn’t too big of a fan of them either. They had never done anything to her, but they had hurt Harry’s feelings and that was enough for her to not feel good about them. She bit her lip as Harry’s eyes really settled on her, doing the thing where he looked between them a few times before he focused on one of them. The pair stared at each other for a bit, and the hard look on Harry’s face slowly faded away, turning into the smallest of smiles. When his dimples started to show, a curl falling into his forehead, Y/N could feel absolutely everything about her melt. She wasn’t usually a melt, didn’t know how to properly act around someone she was infatuated with, but with Harry it seemed she didn’t know how to control herself. Didn’t know the right answers, or how to breathe without feeling like oxygen somehow wasn’t enough to keep her alive. She looked away, feeling a blush creep on. Harry chuckled from across the table.

“Alright, boys,” Finn said, getting his phone out. “Someone put on some music and I’ll find Shots.”

“On it.” Danny said, reaching for the speaker, putting on some The Weeknd.

“Shots?” Y/N whispered to Finn, and he tilted the phone in her direction to show her the drinking game app on his phone. She nodded, smiling at Tiana as she gave her the wine bottle and a plastic cup.

“Most Likely To anyone?” Finn asked, and grinned at the hoots around the table. “Okay, first one: Most likely to win a Theresa May lookalike competition.”

Y/N laughed along with everyone else, pouring some wine into her cup just as Tiana did the same beside her. Giving her a quick look to make sure she was okay, that she wasn’t too uncomfortable and sad being in the same room as Danny, Y/N looked back at her wine as she saw the coast to be clear.

“Everyone point in three, yea?” Finn said, getting ready to do just that. “Three, two, one-“

Fingers were pointed all over the table, but most were in Ian’s direction, who seemed so incredibly shocked and offended that everyone had to laugh once again.

“What?!” He shouted. “Are you all completely mad?! Fucking twats!” Taking a grip of his cup he sipped his vodka lemonade, shaking his head as it undoubtably was a bit strong.

Finn slapped his hand against the table, grinning madly. “Most likely to give the best oral sex.”

Everyone around the table whistled under their breaths, looking at all the faces to make up their minds. Always incredibly unsure and a little uncomfortable when anything sexual was brought up, Y/N bit her lip and held onto her own hands tightly, not having a single idea as to who she should point to. She could go for a safe option and just point to Tiana who would most likely laugh, or joke around and point to Finn or Ian who would both flirt, but then be over it.

“Three!” Finn said, hand read for pointing. Y/N felt her heart racing. She hadn’t made a decision yet.

“Two!” Who would be best? Who would make most sense?

“One!”

Fingers were pointed and loud laughter and hoots sounded again. Y/N looked at Tiana who was pointing across the table, and when she followed her finger in the direction it was pointed at, Y/N’s mouth fell a bit open when she saw Harry. Multiple people seemed to be pointing at him, and he was grinning hugely, clearly satisfied.

“Harryyyy!” Wade sang, cackling afterwards. “It’s you, mate!”

Harry shrugged, letting his hand who was pointing at Wade fall to the table.

“I mean,” Harry leaned his elbows on the table, shrugging his shoulders again. “You’re not wrong.”

Finn clapped his hands while the rest of the room either shouted in surprise or laughed. As Harry chuckled, Y/N looked around the table at who else had pointed at Harry, and found that all the girls had, as well as Wade and Finn, though Y/N was 100% sure they were taking the piss. Harry gripped his cup, about to say something when Becky interrupted him.

“Of course, it’s him.” She said. “Just look at those lips.”

Harry laughed and everyone else howled low ‘oooh’s that made Becky grin at him, happy with the reaction. She watched him as he took his sip, eyes falling to his very pink and full lips. Y/N felt a pang of something inside her then; something she wasn’t sure she liked. Seeing Becky so unapologetically flirt and stare at him made something possessive take over inside Y/N. Harry wasn’t by any means her boyfriend, so she didn’t have any right feeling the way she was feeling, but at the same time she didn’t want anyone to flirt with him. It was weird, Y/N thought, because she had no right or reason for feeling this way, and yet she did.

“Y/N,” Finn said. “You didn’t point at anyone.”

Y/N froze, looking at him with wide eyes. “I, uhm…” She swallowed. “I couldn’t make up my mind.”

“Just-“

“-It’s obviously me.” Tiana said, taking one of Y/N’s hands and pointing it at herself.

Finn grinned and looked down at his phone before speaking the next assumption to point for. When she looked away from Tiana, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes from across the table. He mouthed a quick ‘you okay’, to which Y/N nodded. That alone made her feel better than anything had done all night. But then she locked eyes with Becky, and the single second they were looking at each other, her stomach turned to ice and everything she had felt only moments earlier vanished.

They continued to play Most Likely To until everyone was piss drunk, the laughter was loud, and the temperature inside the flat was a little too high. Wade opened the windows to let some fresh air in, and almost fell to the floor when Finn pretended to yank his chair out from under him when he was on the way to the loo. Sai and some other of Harry’s course mates showed up as a surprise, though Wade and Finn had clearly set it up. Putting a Tesco carrot cake down in front of Harry with 20 lit and crammed candles on top, everyone sang the birthday song for him. The claps were loud as Harry blew out all the candles on his first try. Everyone got a piece and Y/N tried not to look too much across the table now that the alcohol started to kick in and her ability to fight her initial instincts were failing her. So, instead she chatted to Annie and Tiana about nothing in particular, feeling a little dizzy as she ate up her piece of the carrot cake.

“Harry,” Becky said. “Mind showing me around the flat? Haven’t really been here before. Or not really that I can remember anyway.”

The chatter was loud, and Y/N didn’t know why she had heard this exact conversation out of the many going on, but she had. And she felt incredibly shitty for it. It took everything in her power not to scream at the top of her lungs as Harry said his yes; to look away from Tiana as Harry walked down the corridor towards his bedroom with Becky following; and to not feel incredibly sad because she didn’t know how to properly handle the situation. However, Y/N managed to control herself and not cry. Focusing on the conversation she was having with Tiana and Annie, she somehow forgot about Harry and Becky altogether. Her attention span was very short when she was drunk, she started to realise, and tonight that was a very good thing. Y/N didn’t really want to think about Harry. Didn’t want to admit to herself or anyone else that she really, really liked him. Didn’t want to open up about the fact that she was very sure he would most likely break her heart, but she was still talking to him and hanging out with him because she wanted to. It was just a crush after all, nothing serious could come of it.

This all reassured Y/N, because she knew getting involved with someone while at university would only complicate things. She would lose focus, find new priorities she did not need to be finding, start thinking differently, and so on. The only thing Y/N needed was to focus on her degree and nothing but. She knew her and Harry would never happen, but it was fun to imagine it to; it was fun having a crush because it made every day, every interaction with them a little more special. It was something innocent to look forward to.

As Harry and Becky came walking back into the kitchen, talking to each other, Y/N had to pinch herself so she wouldn’t look at them. She had no idea it would ever be this hard to be ignoring someone in the same room as her, especially when all she wanted to do was look at him, study him and watch as he moved, smiled, and breathed. Y/N, Tiana and Annie all finished their bottles of wine, all pretty pissed once the time came to leave for the club. It took them some time to get down the stairs as they were adamant on walking down and not taking the lift, even though Finn tried to drag them in with him. He waited for them downstairs, though.

It took them around 20 minutes to walk to The Grand, a nightclub in Clapham. Y/N had never been to a nightclub before, and she was both very eager and very anxious to go to one. But with Tiana, Annie, and Finn joining her, she knew she would be fine. They would never leave her as all of them knew just how much she dreaded being alone in huge crowds of people.

In the queue outside The Grand, Sai slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders and started singing, at the top of his lungs, Bromance by Chester See and Ryan Higa. Wade quickly joined in, singing it to Harry whose cheeks were reddening. Y/N looked away when she realised she was staring a little too intently. Harry was just so insanely cute when he was flustered or blushing, which didn’t usually happen, and Y/N found herself thinking and hoping to one day be able to do it. Once they got inside the club, it was very hard for the whole group to stick together. Tiana, Annie and Y/N all managed to, but everyone else kind of fell away from them.

For some reason, Y/N was thankful for that. She had no idea why, but she was a little mad at Harry. She knew she had no right to be, but she was angry at him for giving in to Becky and giving her what she wanted. Never had he voiced his dislike for Becky, but Y/N knew he didn’t like Blessing and El, though he never talked about Becky. Never. Whenever Becky talked to him or wanted his attention, he seemed to give her what she wanted. This made Y/N doubt everything she had ever thought about her and Harry, because maybe, at the end of the day, all he wanted was to spend time with her so he could sneakily make a move on Becky. Y/N didn’t know how boys worked. How their thought process worked or if they even felt the same way she did. But she could not help feeling a little hopeless as Harry disappeared from view, Becky beside him and the loud music and crowd of the club completely devouring her and her two friends.

Y/N soon lost herself in the madness of the club. Dancing the night away with Tiana and Annie, there was nothing on her mind but the song playing loudly over the speakers, the bass moving the rhythm of her heart, and the droplets of sweat running down her back. Only a handful of times did Y/N see Harry. He was with Sai, Wade and Finn, dancing along to the music as well. Every time their eyes met they would both kind of stop moving for a bit, losing themselves in the sight of the other; entranced. And after a few second of that, Harry would push through his little circle of friends to get to her. And each time, Y/N would pull Tiana and Annie away to dance somewhere else out of sight of Harry. Harry would look over again only to find the spot taken by someone else, and when searching the room for her, would wind up not finding Y/N or any of her mates.

After three times of this happening, Y/N knew Harry would question her about it later. It wasn’t normal behaviour for her to avoid someone, but she for some reason did not want to talk to Harry. Talking to him would remind her of him and Becky in the flat earlier, and that would only make her very sad. So, instead of confronting Harry about this she opted for keeping quiet and pushing him away. Tiana was starting to catch on after a while but didn’t say anything. She knew Y/N well enough to know when to push for information and when to not. So, the three girls just danced together and had fun like they always did when they hung out together, making the most of the night.

“I need a wee!” Y/N shouted between Tiana and Annie, who both nodded and motioned they would stay where they were until she came back. Making her way through the crowd, Y/N got to one of the girl loos. The queue was horrendous, so she decided to try the other one by the bar. Walking there it was impossible not to notice Harry where he stood leaning against the counter with his mates. Their eyes met, and Y/N sped up past him and in the direction of the toilets.

“Later, lads.” Harry said before following Y/N. “Y/N!”

She ignored him, walking up the stairs to the toilets.

“Y/N!”

There were next to no one here. Y/N thanked herself for being observant when they walked in and seeing this hidden loo. Opening the door into the women’s toilet, she was happy to see no one else in there. Thinking herself safe from Harry following her now, she just about screamed when the door into the toilet opened and Harry stepped inside. With a hand to her heart, she watched Harry run a hand through his hair before pointing at her, panting slightly.

“What’s going on?”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, no words forming.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I have not!”

“Oh, yea sure!” Harry seemed very annoyed, the frown in his forehead deeper than Y/N had ever seen it before. “Every time I’ve talked toward you tonight on the dancefloor to dance with you, you’ve walked right off!”

“Well…!” Y/N gestured wildly with her hands. “Maybe I didn’t want you to dance with me!”

Harry blinked, taking a step back. “What?”

Y/N nodded.

“Why?”

Y/N shrugged.

“Y/N, talk to me. Why didn’t you want me close to you? Have I done something to upset you?” He seemed so desperate Y/N almost felt sorry for him. “Please tell me. I don’t want…” He sighed. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “You never said anything about her.”

Harry frowned again. “About who?”

“Becky.”

Harry inhaled sharply. “You’re… You’re mad at me because of Becky?”

“Well…” Y/N tightened her grip on her arms. “Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because you… you gave up straight away on showing me around your flat, but jumped at the opportunity to show Becky!” Y/N felt her heart racing, realising Harry might like Becky better than her and not crying at the thought of that was very hard. “You always talk about how much you dislike Blessing and El, but never Becky!”

“Don’t know her well enough to have an opinion on her!”

“I feel so stupid bringing it up, but I-“

Y/N stopped talking as she heard someone talking loudly on their way up the stairs to the girl’s toilet.

“But you what, Y/N?!”

Harry heard them too then, the girls outside laughing loudly at something, and he looked over his shoulder at the door that would soon open up. Quickly, he took a grip of Y/N’s wrist and walked into a random stall, locking it just as the girls entered, talking at an inhuman volume and howling with laughter at the same time.

“But you what?” Harry repeated.

It was only then Y/N noticed how close they were standing. Harry’s breath hit her nose as she looked up at him, his eyes looking into hers like they would give him the answer if her lips didn’t. They had never been standing this close to one another. Y/N had never seen Harry on the brink of blurriness; never needed for him to move closer and get blurrier as much as right now. She was desperate for him. Desperate for everything about him; for his hands, his eyes, his breath, his lips, his words, his time, his body. Desperation was a taste that would linger; like a sweet you wish you’d never have eaten but you were stuck with the taste of it in your mouth now after a little taste. Y/N knew that the minute Harry kissed her, he would only make that desperation worse, but she craved for him to. It was like nothing could ever be enough. Y/N could never get enough of him.

“Y/N?” Harry whispered, the girls outside and inside some of the stalls talking over their hushed voices. “Talk to me.”

Her eyes fell to his lips, trying to hide her swallowing at the sight of them. When she looked up at him, she could tell by the way his eyelids had lowered over his eyes that he had noticed her staring. It was impossible for him not to have caught her looking, but she still felt a little embarrassed about him maybe knowing she wanted him to kiss her.

“Why are you talking about Becky?” He asked again, this time a little louder.

“I just…” Y/N shrugged. “I…”

Harry shifted, somehow getting closer to her. “You what?”

“I don’t like her.”

Harry put the toilet seat down and sat on it, looking up at her as she leaned against the wall of the stall. “Why?”

Y/N shrugged, listening as the girls outside started making their way out into the club again.

“Y/N, please talk to me.”

She looked way.

“Y/N-“

“-She’s not afraid to ask for your attention.”

Harry blinked.

“Whenever I want you to pay attention to me, she gets it because she makes you pay attention to her.” She shook her head. “I don’t have the guts to do that.”

Harry just looked at Y/N, a little shocked because she was never upfront about anything. Y/N never spoke freely like this about anything, so hearing her actually voice her concern was new to him. Hadn’t she been drunk, she probably would not have said anything, they both knew that. The terror of having Harry know exactly how she felt made everything inside Y/N turn with mortification. She turned for the door, about to unlock it when Harry took a grip of her hand. Yanking her toward him, he noticed he put a little too much force into it, because she lost her balance and fell on top of him. Both of her legs were on either side of his left thigh, her torso flat against his chest, and her hands pushing her back so she could look at him.

Neither of them laughed. Y/N was shocked, mouth open as she stared down at Harry who was looking quite seriously right up at her. That teasing smile he usually had lingering on his lips wasn’t there anymore. As both of his hands rested on her hip, holding her loosely in place, Y/N felt everything inside her scream. Harry’s hands were on her hips. And it felt like they were burning holes through her skirt. They felt so warm.

“You have my attention now.” Harry said, voice low as his fell to her lips and then to her eyes again. “You always have it, Y/N. No one else. Always you.”

Harry drew her closer to him. Y/N gasped as her centre rubbed against Harry’s thigh. Harry’s grip tightened a bit as he realised what he had done. How he had made her feel. Their eyes met, understanding dawning on both of them. Again, Y/N felt ashamed of showing just how much everything about Harry got to her. It was impossible for her to hide when all her guards were down it seemed, as everything she felt was doubled when she was drunk. She tried to push away from him again, knowing that if she was close to him like this for any longer, she would undoubtably lean in herself.

“Y/N.”

Harry whispered as he drew her to him again, and Y/N couldn’t help the small whimper leaving her lips, her sensitive bud rubbing against him again.

“You have me.” He said. “With everything I am and ever will be; you have me.”

She placed her hands on either of his shoulders, looking down at him.

“I am at your complete disposal.” He leaned forward, moving his chest so Y/N moved her body, more specifically her hips. “Always have been.”

He sat back and Y/N moved her hips on her own this time, the grasp she had on his shoulders tightening.

“Becky might have asked for my attention,” he continued, green eyes turning a shade darker as Y/N rocked her hips back and forth once again, very slowly. “But you never have to.”

Y/N let out a breathy moan, the feeling of Harry’s strong leg against her sensitive bud better than she ever would have thought it to. Knowing he felt the same way she did, that he was only ever giving Becky the time of day because she made him, made her feel so incredibly happy that the butterflies in her tummy went crazy. They flew into her core, flying in a circle so fast and creating a low hum of pleasure. She closed her eyes, feeling out Harry’s muscled leg. When she opened her eyes, looking straight into his, she could tell he hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a single second. He had watched her get acquainted with him; gotten familiar with the places to press down to get that spark of pleasure and where his muscles were defined.

As his mouth fell open at the sight of her, Y/N suddenly became very aware of how wet she actually was. Her cunt was slick and very hot as she drove it across Harry. He no doubt felt her. Staring at her the way he did, Y/N was somehow sure he didn’t mind wet marks up and down his thigh for later. Being wet like this, every little sensation she felt was heightened, especially her clit. The first audible moan left her lips, small like a loud whimper.

“Yea?” He whispered, voice coated in lust. “Does that feel good?”

Y/N closed her eyes, Harry’s hands roaming higher up her sides. The more pressure she was putting on her clit, the more pleasure she felt. Y/N didn’t masturbate often, so when she did, she usually came pretty fast. However, she was suddenly very scared Harry would think she was weird for coming too fast. She didn’t want him to think she’d never done anything before. She didn’t want him to think she was as pure as everyone thought her to be. Not him. But as she felt his thumbs skim the underside of her breasts, his hands moving to caress down her back, she suddenly lost all sense of anything but the feeling of her building orgasm. Another moan; this one louder and breathy.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

She opened her eyes, taking a bit more effort now that she was so close. She started moving her hips harder and faster. Harry’s hands on her hips, squeezed her a little as he noticed how close she was.

“Go on.” Harry said. “Come on me.”

Just then, another gang of girls walked in, talking amongst themselves. Y/N stopped for a bit, but Harry squeezed her hip. Their eyes met once again, and she started rocking. Looking into his eyes alone, when he was below her like this, not even caring about himself but only her, his green eyes were enough to make her come alone. Harry placed a hand in her hair, gently pushing her ear close to his mouth.

“Come on me, baby.” He whispered again, voice rasping.

Y/N’s grip on Harry’s shoulders tightened once again as the tension in her core did the same. Her movements were frantic, needing the friction to increase and the fire in her lower stomach to build up into a bonfire of pleasure. Y/N bit down hard on her lip so she wouldn’t moan now that other people were in the room with them. All her nerves perked up, a climax not far away.

“Y/N?!”

Y/N sat upright faster than she thought possible, stopping as she was pressed flush against Harry’s torso.

“Y/N, you in here?!”

Tiana.

Y/N looked back at Harry who was just as shocked as she was. She had been gone for a while now so it made sense for Tiana to come looking for her. Didn’t mean she wanted her to right now. As Tiana started asking everyone by the sinks if they had seen her, Harry had thought of a solution.

“Your feet,” he whispered. “Put them around my waist.”

Y/N frowned, but Harry completely ignored her. He got her into a standing position, and gestured for her to straddle his lap. Once she had done that, lowered herself till her thighs were around him, Harry sat a little further out on the seat so she could put her legs behind him. To the outside world, it now only seemed like one person was using that stall as only Harry’s feet were showing. Like this, however, both of them knew Y/N couldn’t get off. The disappointment must have been transparent on Y/N’s face, because Harry moved his hand from where it rested at her lower back and onto her exposed thigh.

“I could…” Harry whispered, voice trailing off.

Once again it dawned on Y/N that they had never been closer than this. Harry’s breath met her lips now, heat from his body mingling with hers. She could smell the beer he’d had earlier and see that spec of brown in his left iris. Harry’s hand trailed upward, the tips of his fingers under Y/N’s skirt that was resting very far up on her thighs.

“Y/N, you have to tell me if you want me to or not.” He whispered, he rested his forehead against hers, and her heart picked up speed. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

“I do.” She whispered back. “I do.”

“Y/N?!” Tiana shouted again, making both of them jump a bit and giggle. Y/N felt bad for not telling Tiana where she was, but she was sure her best friend would be okay once she told her what had happened with Harry.

Harry’s hand trailed up Y/N’s thigh, skimming the inside of it. His middle finger stroked up and down her knickers, feeling the wetness of them and driving Y/N completely mad. She bit her lip, watching as he sat back to admire her. Putting a little more pressure on her, Harry watched as Y/N let go of her lip, mouth falling open as he rubbed her bud. It was like it was impossible to take her eyes off him when he touched her like this, like every single movement started from somewhere deep in his eyes and then he touched her. He pulled her knickers aside, index and middle finger stroking between her folds, feeling very little inch of her exposed cunt. They rested at her hole, and Y/N swallowed, gasping a little for breath.

“This okay?” Harry whispered. “You okay with me doing this?”

Y/N nodded. And Harry pushed his fingers inside her. Y/N’s head fell back, mouth open as Harry drove them in and out of her. She hadn’t been far from an orgasm when she rode his thigh, but she knew without a doubt she would come quicker and harder with Harry fingering her like this. Curling his fingers, he pounded them harder and faster as he felt her hands on his shoulders grip so hard her nails almost pierced through his jumper and shirt. He was hitting that exact spot that was like throwing fuel into a flame, because Y/N felt nothing but her climax just then. A bubble that was about to burst, the pleasure inside of her was like white noise in her ears. Nothing but the feeling of Harry’s fingers, his hot body between her thighs, and his other hand on her lower back; nothing but that meant anything.

She looked at him again, frantic because the orgasm she was about to have would undoubtably make her legs shake. She leaned her forehead against his, the left side of her nose resting against his, and her eyes shut.

“That’s it.” Harry said, lips just barely moving.

Someone was blowing their hands dry. Someone else laughed. The bass from downstairs was shaking up the entire bathroom. But Y/N only cared about Harry’s fingers as they pounded her faster. She breathed harshly and maybe a bit too loudly, but she could not control herself. Harry’s eyes were open as he watched the bubble of Y/N’s orgasm burst. She gasped. It ran up her spine, her torso, down her thighs, and to her fingertips. She felt it everywhere, like it radiated off her entire body. It was like magic had found a place to hide inside of her, running through her like every incredible sensation the world had to offer. The orgasm toned down in waves and Y/N only realised once she opened her eyes again that her legs had been shaking. Harry smiled up at her, putting her knickers back in place and sitting back.

They stared at each other for a while, like nether could believe what had just happened. It wasn’t meant to happen. Neither had planned for it to. But it had. And Y/N didn’t feel ashamed, didn’t regret it, didn’t feel like apologising in the slightest. She was glad it had happened, in fact. Now she knew how Harry felt.

“Best fucking birthday gift I’ve ever gotten.” He said, voice still as husky as it had been when she had talked to her during.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling back at him. She could feel herself blushing. “This wasn’t your birthday gift.”

“No?”

She shook her head.

“But you didn’t give me one.”

Y/N put her feet on the floor again, getting up. “I won’t give you my… my… my below for your birthday.”

“Not what I meant, darling.” Harry said. “Watching you come was a cinematic masterpiece. And something I’ve wanted to see for a while now.”

Y/N bit her lip, and the two of them laughed. They agreed on Harry leaving the stall and the loo first, then Y/N would follow after she cleaned herself up. Once everyone who had been in there with them went out into the club again, Harry did the same, making Y/N promise not to avoid him down there later. She promised. After cleaning herself up and looking herself in the mirror afterward, making sure she didn’t look like a complete knob, she walked out of the toilet only to run straight into someone.

“Y/N!”

Tiana hugged her tight, but quickly pushed away, slapping her shoulder.

“You got me worried mad!”

“Sorry.”

Tiana looked at her for a while, then over her shoulder, then back again. “Just met Harry on the way up here.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“Yea.”

“He must’ve been to the loo then.”

“Just like you.”

Y/N nodded. “Just like me, yea.”

Tiana smiled a little, cocking her head to the side. For some reason, she had always been good at reading situations, an ability that had always come in handy whenever the two of them wanted to be nosy together, but not now. Y/N sensed Tiana putting two and two together. So, raising her eyebrows, Y/N cocked her head back at her best friend.

“Have a bad stomach.” Y/N explained.

Tina raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Yea.”

“So, if I walk in that bathroom right now it’ll smell like shite?”

“Ti!”

“What?!” She grinned. “Just a question!”

“Can we leave, please? I’m tired.” Y/N sighed, knowing that the only way to make her story somewhat believable was for them to head back to Westbridge, even though her drunk self wanted to go downstairs and find Harry so they could dance together. Besides, she was wondering how he was… managing… after the episode they had just had. And she wanted to ask him how he had kept himself under control enough to go downstairs straight afterwards.

Tiana shrugged her shoulder, offering her hand to Y/N. “As you please, my lady.”

Y/N took Tiana’s hand, and the two went back downstairs to where Annie was waiting, relieved to see Y/N as well. All the girls got their coats, and then braved the coldness of the February night together. Arms linked and with Tiana singing a Rita Ora song they had played a remix of earlier while they were dancing, they strolled back to the flat together. But Y/N’s mind, and piece of her heart, was left somewhere by the bar in The Grand.

TAGLIST

@swayingnoodlelove @littlestyles @showk1ndness @sydneysuit @hallwayharry @emotionally-imbruised @fuckyeahimahobbit @beksjewels @harryisadogperson @harryrocksagoodsuit @ifiwereaboy2323 @tiostyles @maroonmolly @harrysroguecurl @awomanindeniall @justsaying20 @ot4narrie @miss-nxvxcaine @sunflowersandrockstars @hard-on-harry @emma070900 @shitibitmytonge @my--heroine @rainbowbutterflyboy @shegotthesalt @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss @mleestiles @bloodcastle30155 @harryskiwi2 @brielyse11 @for-fucks-sake-h @treat-harry-with-love @permanentllyharry @flooome @harryfeatcalum @mykissyharry @hydra-barnes @violets-parma @shadowsndaisies @messyherz

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #het fic #1dff #:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD #COME FREAK BROTHERS

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heyyyharry · 7 years ago

Text

Neighbor

(from the Flatmate Series)

…in which Y/N likes their new neighbor, but Harry does not.

Wattpad link

Harry was making his brunch in the kitchen when he heard his flatmate's voice echoing in the hallway. Apparently, Y/N had just come back from the ten o'clock class which he also had to attend, but this morning he overslept and decided not to show up at all.

He did find it weird that she was having a conversation with someone in the hallway, if not with herself (then it'd be kind of creepy). She had never socialized with any of their neighbors since the people around here weren't that friendly. Curious, Harry had to walk out to see who it was, just in time Y/N closed the front door on her way in.

"Oh, you're up early," she said while kicking off her shoes. The sarcasm made Harry roll his eyes but he had seen it coming.

"Did the professor check for attendance?" He asked.

"Nope. But if you want to pass this subject, I recommend you attend the classes."

"I never fail, okay? Failing is not for me," Harry said with a slice of bread in his mouth, and heard the girl mumble something about how impressed she was. But this time he wasn't sure if it was also sarcasm.

Leaning one shoulder against the kitchen doorway, he watched her throw herself on their sofa, subconsciously smiling for no particular reason, none that he knew of. So he assumed it had something to do with her conversation earlier, and asked her who she was talking to.

Y/N's face almost lit up, as if she'd been waiting for him to ask that question ever since she walked in, just so she could rant about what just happened.

"Oh, didn't you know?" She said. "We've got a new neighbor."

Harry took another bite of his sandwich to continue speaking with his mouth full, "someone finally moved into the flat next door? Isn't that place haunted or something?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that Mrs. Benson only moved away? She didn't die."

"That's what they wanted us to believe," Harry said with certainty, only to receive a facepalm from Y/N as a reaction.

"So what's with the new neighbor then?" He switched back to their initial topic, and Y/N didn't even hesitate when she frankly told him, "he's hot."

Those two words nearly had Harry choke on his sandwich, which he was glad didn't happen, because there was no way he could die before seeing this guy next door that she thought was hot. He couldn't come up with anything to reply to her, and apparently, he didn't even have to. The look on his face had already done the job.

"What?" Y/N snorted. "You're allowed to say that about a girl, and when I say that about a guy, I'm a horrible person?"

Harry didn't get why she could even come up with that comparison. It was normal for him to come back from the gym and tell her about the hot girl he had just met. He did it all the time. But this was actually the first time he'd ever heard her call someone hot. Someone not him. So yes, Harry was offended.

"Whatever," he said, trying to act normal and cool, anything but intimidated. "I bet he's not that hot."

Unfortunately for Harry, he was that hot.

Harry saw him for the first time in the evening when Y/N told him to take out the trash. Though the two men didn't exchange a verbal conversation or make eye-contact, Harry still remembered his face. He looked more mature than Harry, which made sense because he was around five years older. The guy was tall and tanned. He had a defined and structured face, dark hair pushed back, blue eyes. No wonder he was a part-time model. But what made him more than just a handsome face was that, he was also a lawyer, and he was living alone.

Harry heard it all from the gossip lady downstairs, a very reliable source in this building. So it must be true. Normally, Harry was confident about his appearance. He wasn't self-absorbed, but he knew he was blessed with good looks, and him being a flirt just made it easier to get girls. That was why it would be unbelievable if he told anyone he felt intimidated by his new neighbor, all just because Y/N, his flatmate, thought the guy was hot.

The next morning, Harry woke up before his alarm, before Y/N even. He wanted to go to class with her, just in case she ran into that guy and lost her ability to think, again. But the most shocking thing that happened that day wasn't Harry deciding to attend a class, it was what Y/N decided to wear to go out. And his jaw dropped as soon as she emerged from her room.

This was not the Y/N he knew. She was wearing a skirt which barely covered her ass, it was so tight that he wondered how she could even move in it. She didn't let her long hair down like she always did, but put it in a high ponytail. And she also had makeup on. She probably did every day, but it was never noticeable. That day she went all the way with the cherry red lips, and Harry couldn't help it, he was gawking at the girl.

"I know what you're going to say so just shut up." She squinted her eyes at him while fixing her skirt, which had risen up as she walked out from her room.

It would be a lie to say Harry wasn't slightly turned on by Y/N's new look, and not thinking about bending her over the table over there, and making sure she screamed out his name when he made her cum. However, he didn't feel okay with her walking outside in a skirt that short, for everyone to see what only he had the privilege to see!

"And what did you paint on your face?" He scoffed, crouching down so his face was at the same level as hers.

"It's called 'makeup'. Look it up." She put a hand on his chest and pushed him away in annoyance.

"You look ridiculous," he said. It wasn't even half the truth, but she didn't need to know. "Are you seriously wearing this for that guy?"

"Ben. His name is Ben, and yes, what if I run into him? I need to look decent."

"Define 'decent'."

"Just shut up, and get your car keys, we're gonna be late."

Harry watched Y/N walk to the front door, and he swore he could see her ass from where he was standing. It was terrible enough that he wouldn't be able to focus on the road with her in the passenger seat, looking like that. But he also needed to worry about the other men who might get to see too much of her.

Tossing his head back, Harry cursed under his breath and grabbed his big coat on the way out. In case of an emergency, he had to make sure his flatmate was safely covered up.

It was Saturday morning, and Y/N was not in the flat. She had to spend the entire day babysitting a kid in the building, and Harry, as usual, got up late and enjoyed his precious alone time. As he returned from his run, however, he bumped into Ben, who was carrying two big grocery bags. This time, the man noticed Harry and put on a friendly smile as he said, "good morning!"

Harry said it back only because he didn't want to be rude, still, he kept a neutral expression instead of being overly nice like Ben was. But as Harry took out his keys to open the door, even with his back turned to his neighbor, he still felt the older guy sizing him up.

"You're Harry, right?"

"How do you know my name?" Harry turned around, furrowing his eyebrows at his neighbor.

"Y/N told me," Ben happily said.

Harry used to wonder if his flatmate had ever talked about him with other people when he wasn't around. Now he knew that she had, he needed to know what exactly that she'd said about him. So as much as he wanted to leave this conversation, he must stay to hear the rest from Ben.

"She mentioned a flatmate named Harry, and that you two went to the same university."

"Well, did Y/N also mention that I was her boyfriend?"

Ben seemed pretty surprised, but internally, Harry was probably more shocked by his own words. But he couldn't take them back anymore, sp he decided to just ignore the little voice inside his head screaming "NO!" and went on with this lie anyway.

"I am her boyfriend. You've been talking to my girl a lot lately, and I don't like it. All the flirting has got to stop, okay?"

"Flirting?" Ben raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I would never!"

Quickly, he showed Harry the massive ring on his left hand, which left the boy speechless. "I just got engaged last night."

Harry wished he could just dig himself a hole and hide in there for the rest of his life. He didn't know what to say or how to react to this news. The 'hot' neighbor was already engaged, which meant he wasn't after Y/N. But how was Harry going to explain if Y/N ever found out she'd got a boyfriend that she didn't even know of?!

"Congratulations..." Harry cracked an awkward smile as he avoided making eye contact with Ben at all costs. "Sorry, mate. I thought..."

"No, it's fine. I get that," said Ben. "Y/N is such a lovely girl. She's a keeper."

"She is very lovely." Harry, now smiling nonchalantly, nodding his head like he was admitting to himself, and not agreeing with Ben. It didn't take a genius to figure out how head over heels he was for his flatmate. For someone who had been in love for so long like Ben here, it couldn't be any more obvious.

"I'm sure you can trust her completely," he told Harry. "Most of our conversations were about you."

Harry's green eyes grew wide at those words. He just had to ask. "What did you guys talk about?"

Ben opened his mouth to reply, however, his phone went off, and so he quickly excused himself to take this important call. He promised to speak to Harry another time. But Harry never got to find out what Y/N had told Ben about him.

Y/N seemed quite disappointed when she heard that their neighbor was already engaged. But she wasn't devastated or anything, so Harry felt very relieved.

On Monday, she went back to her normal everyday makeup and outfit. And even though Harry had found her new look the other day overwhelmingly sexy, he still preferred the usual look on her, simply because it was more...Y/N. Awkward, simple, sweet Y/N, who never had to try hard, but always looked her best in his eyes.

When they went out that morning, the flatmates ran into Ben in the hallway. This time, he was with another man.

"Hey, neighbors!"

"Hey, mate!" Harry grinned widely as Y/N looked so confused. She was probably wondering why his attitude towards their neighbor had suddenly changed. Ben was smiling from ear to ear and so was the man he was with. Without further ado, he told them, "this is my fiancé Mark."

"Your fiancé?!" Y/N released a loud gasp whereas Harry couldn't be more thrilled. He shook Mark's hand and introduced them both, saying that they were flatmates and Ben's neighbors.

With a huge grin, Mark said, "you two must be the cute couple next door. Ben kept mentioning you guys. We should definitely go on a double date some time!"

"Ooh, that's a great idea!" Ben quickly agreed.

Harry looked at Y/N, who was already staring at him. She wasn't angry, she was actually startled, probably trying to figure out why Ben had told his fiance she and Harry were together. But Harry surely wasn't going to wait for her to discover the truth. In a rush, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her with him. They could only say a brief goodbye to the baffled couple next door.

Once they were finally alone in the lift, Y/N released a chuckle which caused Harry's heart to stop for nearly a second. "I can't believe it," she said. "They thought we were a couple."

#tell me what you think #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #flatmate!harry

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iv-kplpt · 8 years ago

Text

well that was easy

this one’s kind of hard to explain: basically one evening i came up with an idea for a college au for (telltale) oswald and charlie and (gotham) oswald and jim gordon. my gf told me to write it, so naturally... two cobblepots are cousins. their respective family tragedies never happened. this is a self indulgent base/skeleton text - an outline of sorts that’ll be expanded with some more detailed oneshots.

High above the streets of London Widowmaker was perched on a rooftop, looking for a blind spot in enemy's defenses, for a possible path for Tracer to slip through and make her way to Sombra who was hidden behind the enemy lines, waiting for her chance to disarm them, to render them helpless and defenseless.

„Try the right path.” she finally said. „I don't think they even remember it exists. Through the window and up the stairs. Mind the gap.”

„I'm there!” Tracer announced after a short while. „And I have my bomb.”

„And we all have our stuff, so let's go.” Gordon said, yawning quietly and making his Zarya jump a few times. „Hey, where's Mercy?”

„Safe and sound.” announced Charlie, who was sitting behind Louise's Widow. „And far away.”

„Then time to get our first point.” Louise said, taking a sip of her drink. „Let's go.”

Their plan worked – once Louise activated her visor, she picked the enemy team one by one, headshot after headshot, Charlie boosting her to speed up the process, making their Mercy waste her ult. Then the true fun began; Oswald jumped out of his hideout he was sharing with Vicki – they were dance emoting in the meantime – and EMPed. Gordon did his russian thing and Vicki and Oz ulted at the same time, laughing maniacally, as the enemy team was decimated.

„Works every time.” Vicki said cheerfully, dancing on the point. „Incredible.”

„Communication is the best super power.” Oswald announced, jumping around as Charlie kept trying to heal him.

It was a late Friday afternoon and they were all free, but too tired to actually hang out, so they decided to play some matches together, instead of just yelling at each other on their discord server.

(For once Oz was glad they can't hang out in person. He really didn't feel like bearing Gordon's company that day.)

At first it was just Oz and Charlie online – everyone else was either on their phones or finishing something else, so for a good hour it was just TheWizardOfOz and CherryGum.

„So, how's your week going?” Oz asked, as he was chasing down some unfortunate Genji who had the audacity to try and flank.

„Semi-decent.” she replied, damage boosting him. „I'm probably not going to sleep tonight.”

„Insomnia?”

„No, I'm home alone and I really don't like it.”

„Oh, why didn't you say so earlier?” Oswald chimed in; Oz could hear people in the background, meaning his cousin was probably still on the campus. „You should've come over!”

Yes, Oz thought to himself, she should've.

He liked being around her, seeing her, hearing her. Every little thing she did felt like magic and he loved when she'd come over to have a movie night with his cousin; because when he'd walk into the kitchen the next morning it usually meant she was there with a cup of coffee, still warm and soft from the recent sleep, her hair a mess.

(He never said anything. In fact, he talked to her way less often than he'd like to. She was his cousin's friend first, after all – and someone he was hopelessly in love with second.)

Being in love is nice. Being in love with someone who loves someone else is not nice. Being in love with someone who loves someone else who treats them like shit is fucking awful.

That was seemingly the only thing Oz Cobblepot and Jim Gordon had in common – that and great hair. And nice jawlines.

They were both in love and both of their love interests were already monogamously taken – even though it was a Pulcinella's secret of sorts that their significant others are not doing so great in terms of being decent human beings. One could even argue they weren't good at just being human.

Everybody kinda knew and everybody kinda cared – but when confronted about it, Charlie and Oswald would only roll their eyes and assure the other person everything is fine and that gossips are rarely true.

Or: that was what Charlie would do. Oswald would chuckle nervously and change topic. He was never smooth – he was the awkward Cobblepot. Oz was the charming one.

But no matter how charming he was it wasn't enough for Charlie to really open up to him – she would laugh at his jokes and reply to his messages and send him silly things on snapchat, but she never truly opened up. Never talked about anything substantial, never really talked about what's going on in her life – except for vague mentions of her boyfriend Harry being a-fucking-ok.

(Oz couldn't stand Harry. He couldn't stand him long before he met his girlfriend who quickly became the last thing on his mind before falling asleep and first thing after waking up. There were rumors going around about Harry – and Oz was smart enough to know rumors usually don't come out of nowhere.)

From what he heard, there were also rumors going around about his cousin's boyfriend, Nygma – but those rumors were going around in uncool, nerd circles Oz wasn't part of. Doesn't mean he wasn't concerned about his cousin's wellbeing – but he knew his cousin. He knew the Cobblepot blood. Despite being tiny, awkward and polite Oswald could hold a mean grudge and he sure as hell knew how to defend himself.

Or maybe Oz was just lying to himself, because he knew who's also interested in his cousin. Everybody knew Jim Gordon – a serious, utterly intolerable prep – has hots for the shorter Cobblepot. Not like Oswald's current boyfriend was perfect, no – he was weird and something about him always rubbed Oz the wrong way, but at least he wasn't Jim fucking Gordon.

Oswald's love life wasn't Oz's main concern. His main concern was his own love life – which wasn't heading in a direction he liked.

(If it was heading in any direction at all.)

They met during a lame party, one year earlier. Most of the people were either drunk or high or both and he was in the kitchen, sitting on the table and smoking a cigarette as she entered, her skin covered in glitter and her eyes oddly red.

(He knew this kind of red, he saw it a lot of times from his cousin. It was a sad kind of red. One that came with tears.)

„Oh.” she said after noticing him. „Sorry, should... Should I leave?”

„There's enough room for both of us. Are you... Okay?” he asked, staring at her face. „You've been crying. Do you need help?”

She looked surprised and he kind of regretted asking her that; maybe he shouldn't be so blunt.

„No, it'll pass.” she said finally, smiling lightly; even despite crying there was still a lot of glitter on her face and he could see a tiny foil heart on her pink bottom lip. „You can give me a cigarette though.”

He gave her one and lit it up for her, as her hands were shaking; up close he could see that her lashes were still wet and matted and that there was a small foil star on her left eyebrow. Glitter mixed up with her freckles and Oz thought – putting his lighter back in his pocket – it turns her skin into a painting of galaxies.

„So, what's your name, beautiful stranger?” he asked eventually, as she visibly calmed down.

„I'm Charlie. And you... Handsome stranger?”

He laughed and winked at her and she grinned in response. She had a beautiful smile, a very genuine, bright one that reached her eyes and lit them up.

„Oz.”

They almost kissed during their first meeting, but were interrupted by some drunk strangers. They shuffled away from each other, Charlie visibly more distraught than him; he wouldn't mind kissing her and taking her home with him and sneaking her into his bedroom and then maybe waking up next to her the next day, assuming she wasn't the sneak-out-early-in-the-morning type.

„I think I'll go home now.” he said and got off the table, stretching his legs. „You need a ride? I have a spare helmet.”

„That'd be great... My boyfriend was supposed to pick me up, but... He's not going to.” she said, averting his eyes and nervously toying with the hem of her dress.

So she had a boyfriend. That'd explain why she looked so terrified. Maybe it'd also explain why she looked so sad.

She didn't live anywhere near him and the trip was longer than he expected, but he didn't mind the time spent with her arms around him; he supposed that's the last time he's seeing her anyway, considering they didn't even exchange phone numbers.

(She did seem familiar though. Maybe she was a friend of a friend on Facebook? He couldn't tell.)

One week later his cousin Oswald – his flatmate – texted him after his cooking class, asking if he'll mind him bringing someone over for tea? Oz texted back saying no, of course he won't, as long as they'll stay clear of his bedroom.

He was sitting on the couch in a living room when the door opened and Oswald came in, excitedly talking about how good season 2 of House of Cards was.

„Well, I have to catch up then.” someone said cheerfully and Oz's heart skipped a beat as he turned around on the couch, to see the familiar mass of red waves covering the back of Charlie's head. „I like Kevin Spacey. He reminds me of my dad.”

She put her coat on a hanger and turned around and then she saw Oz on the couch, silently staring at her and her face lit up and it felt like a great weight was lifted off his shoulders.

„Small world!” she exclaimed, walking up to him.

When Oswald left them for a moment she turned around to face him.

None of them mentioned the kiss that almost happened; they did exchange phone numbers though, and Facebook accounts, and some other things.

(She was a friend of Louise. Naturally. That'd explain why she looked so familiar.)

Back to present day Oz kept mercilessly tracking down enemy team's Zenyatta and cornering him before he could do anything about the damage his team was receiving.

„Aw, let that Zen live.” Charlie said and he heard a quiet pop!, meaning she was chewing gum. „He's doing his best.”

„This map is not big enough for two good healers.” he said nonchalantly and she giggled and he could hear Louise and Gordon roll their eyes. „I'm earning you that post-game card.”

„I'm earning it myself, but thanks. Hey, Oswald, is our movie night still a thing?”

„Oh, it definitely is.” Oswald assured Charlie as he was gunning down enemy Hanzo. „Louise, are you still coming?”

„Yeah. I'll bring... Well, something.”

„Don't worry, I'll bake some muffins.” Charlie said, running – or rather flying – for her life away from Mei's Blizzard. „A lot of them.”

„Will there be any left for me?” Oz asked and he heard Vicki typing furiously and then his phone buzzed and a messanger bubble popped up on the screen; he knew what it's going to say.

„I'll save some for you.” she promised him. „Hey Jim, save some for you as well?”

„If it's not a problem.” he said solemnly and Oz winced. „Louise, you're going to bring them home, right?”

„Oh, I'll try my best. Can't promise anything though. Junkrat's sneaking behind us. Whoops. Past tense.”

After the match ended – they won 3:0 and Louise got potg as Widowmaker, prompting the enemy team to throw a hissy fit over „FUCKING ATTACK WIDOWS” - Oz finally read the message Vicki sent him during the match.

YOU THIRSTY IDIOT.

He shrugged. What could he say? She was right, there was no denying – even though he was doing his best to hide it. On good days he'd almost fool himself into thinking Charlie is just a friend of his cousin, a nice girl who sends him memes at 3 am and bakes the best damn muffins he've ever eaten.

But she was so much more than that. She was also taken; and as much as he hated her fucking Harry he never said anything out loud, knowing damn well it'd only be interpreted one way.

That night he thought of her before falling asleep. She was on his mind a lot lately; but that night it was less about the warmth she made him feel with her laughter and more about the way she tilted her head and exposed her neck when lost in thoughts. Less about wanting to make her laugh – and more about her lips parted in a moan.

That night he jacked off to the thought of his cousin's close friend, who was in a committed relationship.

*** Next evening he met her on his way to a boxing match. He was just leaving when she showed up, her cheeks red from the chilly weather and her hair a mess, thanks to wind.

„Oh! You're leaving?” she asked; was that disappointment in her voice? He hoped so.

„Yeah. Things and stuff.” he replied, putting his leather jacket on and picking his backpack up.

„How mysterious! Are you doing something illegal?”

„Very.” he blurted out; he wasn't lying. His matches were illegal.

„Then try to not get caught... Though I'm sure I'd be able to convince Harry to represent you in court!” she giggled and he pursed his lips and nodded and left, his mood completely ruined. Did she have to mention her douchebag of a boyfriend?

Vicki was waiting for him outside the – officially abandonded – building where the match was supposed to be held. She was smoking and offered him a cigarette as soon as she saw him.

„Thanks.” he muttered, lighting it. „How's your day?”

„Could be better, could be worse. How's yours?”

„I'm going to fucking deck someone tonight.”

„That bad, huh?”

She finished her cigarette and crushed under the heel of her boot.

„It's your lucky night then. You'll be fighting Napier.”

„How the fuck do you know?”

„I'm a journalism major, remember. All the right questions to all the right people.”

She crossed her arms and inhaled the cold, sharp air.

„Le's get inside, I can feel my insides freezing.”

He shrugged, got rid of his cigarette and silently followed her.

„How's your cousin?” she asked, as they were entering the building.

„He's having a movie night with Lou and Charlie.”

„Oh, so that's where your bad mood comes from. You're still not over it?”

„Looks like I'm not.”

„You never told me how you actually met her.”

The building used to be a warehouse; it was spacious and relatively well lit. The host set up a makeshift ring there; and other people were starting to slowly flow in.

„Not tonight.” he said shortly. „You have our masks?”

As instructed by the host, every contestant – as well as every spectator – was supposed to wear a mask, to conceal their identity from potential cops masquerading as... Well, not cops.

Vicky patted her stuffed bag.

„Yeah. You sure yours is even admissible? You can stab someone to death with this beak.”

„The host said I can wear it as long as I don't use it to my advantage. Meaning... No stabbing. At least not tonight.”

„Edgy.” she said dryly and he laughed in response.

They parted ways – he put his mask on and joined the other people in a makeshift locker-room, while Vicky stayed behind, as spectators were not allowed anywhere behind the scenes.

Napier – or Joker, as he demanded to be called during nights like this – was sitting on a bench, staring other people down. His skin looked unnaturally pale, as he coated himself in white paint; he never wore a proper, physical mask. Only paint.

„Penguin, my man!” Joker greeted him cheerfully, not moving from his spot. „It'll be my pleasure to destroy you on this lovely night!”

„In your dreams, you freak.” he said coldly, not even trying to hide his disdain. He knew Jack Napier – they studied at the same college, even though nobody was able to tell exactly what is Napier exactly studying. He also knew Napier has his eyes on Harleen – a very sweet, very intelligent psych major who once helped him get away with some of his illegal shenanigans, despite not even knowing what's his name. That was the type of person Harleen was – type of person that needed to be preserved and protected, for they were making the world actually habitable.

And Napier having his eyes on her meant she's about to lose some of this goodness, same way one Esme Midnight and her step-brother Rocco lost their optimism and energy.

Their fight was first that night. Once on the ring, Oz let his body take control – it wasn't his first fight in general and not his first fight with Napier. He knew the drill. He knew the tricks – even though Joker was a one trick pony, his trick being unpredactibility.

As they fought, his mind came back to Charlie, or rather her boyfriend. He was a typical – stereotypical, even – frat boy; it was a miracle his name wasn't Chad. He was a law student, came from a rich family, his parents were friends with the mayor. He was a Republican and a living embodiment of the „boys will be boys” sentiment.

And Oz absolutely, truly, madly, deeply hated his guts.

(It was not a simple jealousy. At least he hoped so.)

Thinking about Harry Spencer did help him win the fight though. Joker never stood any chance.

„Are you sure you're not trying to actually kill Napier?” Vicki asked him after they left; they were going to a bar to get a beer or five.

„I wouldn't cry if that happened.”

„You'd end up in jail. For a long time.”

„Not really, no. Remember, my family's rich. Jail's not an option for anyone with the name Cobblepot.”

„But do you think Charlie would want to hang out with a murderer?” she asked and he groaned, rolling his eyes.

„She's a woman's studies major and Napier's an alleged rapist. I think her moral code might have a blind spot for me killing him.”

„That's... One way to win a girl's heart.” Vicki said, giving him a concerned look. „And the exact reason I don't take dating tips from you.”

„Speaking of dating... How's your grand plan going?” he asked when they reached the bar and sat down in a nearly empty room. „Did you ask her out yet?”

„I did. We have a date tomorrow.”

„And do you think there will be a second one?”

„I fucking hope so, she's...”

Vicki paused and Oz reached to pat her on a shoulder.

„Take your time. I get it. I really do.”

(He meant it. They both knew how hard it can be to find the right words to describe a girl; to fully do their beauty justice. Usually they just settled on „I want to both do unspeakable things to her and make waffles with her, you feel?”.)

After he and Vicki parted ways, he tried to open the door to his flat as quietly as possible, to avoid waking anyone up – but it wasn't necessary, as nobody was asleep anyway. The lights were on and Oswald and his friends were in the living room, talking excitedly.

„Hi Oz!” Charlie said cheerfully as she noticed him walking towards his room. „Join us!”

„Depends on what are you going to be watching.” he said; he was lying. He'd join them regardless of their movie pick.

(He could see she was wearing her pink night gown that exposed her legs and arms. Naturally.)

„Jupiter Ascending! I stand by my opinion, this movie is a masterpiece.”

„And I stand by mine. It's garbage.” Louise said, not looking up from her phone. „Hurry up, Oz. And maybe take a shower. You stink.”

Charlie stopped him as he was about to leave the room.

„Are you hungry?” she asked, weirdly nervously. „I can... Make something.”

„You're a guest, I'm not going to make you cook for me. Besides... I'm a big boy.”

„But I want to cook. Plus I'm going to the kitchen anyway.”

Her insistence made his lips twitch in a poorly hidden smile and he nodded.

„Well, alright. It's a free country.”

As she left he followed her with his eyes. Louise finally looked up and shot him a disgusted, disapproving look.

„Take. A. Shower.” she repeated, accentuating every word. „You filthy bastard.”

(He wondered whether she's referring to the fact he was covered in sweat or maybe the fact he stared at Charlie's bare legs as she was walking towards the kitchen. Both were plausible options.)

When he returned – his hair dripping wet and his head a mess, despite a cold shower – they were waiting for him, the movie about to start; Charlie made him a – perfectly round, perfectly golden – omelette and Louise threw a pillow at him, telling him to at least put a shirt on, to which he flipped her off.

At some point during their third movie, around 4am, Charlie – who was seated on the floor, right next to him, close enough for him to occasionally brush her thigh with his hand on accident – dozed off, with her head leaning on his arm.

From that perspective he could see her long lashes. She looked so peaceful; and the warmth of her skin against his felt like home.

„Should... Should I wake her up?” he whispered to Louise, who was right behind him.

In response, Louise gently kicked her in the back and she woke up almost instantly, her face turning red when she noticed who was her pillow for a short while.

„I think that's it for me.” she muttered, getting up shakily and using his arm as a support. „Oswald, I'll crash in your room.”

„Goodnight!” Oswald said cheerfully, still full of energy, as Charlie left the room, yawning; and Oz remained perfectly still, his arm ridiculously hot where she put her hand.

The next morning he encountered her in the kitchen; still sleepy, not fully awake, slowly sipping her coffee. It was just the two of them; Oswald and Louise were asleep on the couch and Oz could hear their snoring.

„Morning.” he said, opening the fridge and looking inside. „Breakfast?”

„Mmm.” she muttered and he smiled to himself. „I dunno. Give me a sec.”

In soft, morning light she looked almost unreal. One of the straps of her night gown slipped down and he could see the faint outline of her breasts underneath the pastel pink fabric.

„Alright, I'm awake.” she said eventually, seemingly unaware of his wandering gaze. „Now feed me.”

„What do you want?”

„Waffles.” she said firmly. „Crispy and golden. You know how to make waffles, right?”

„Yeah. You taught me that, about... Two months ago.” he said, gathering his ingredients. „Remember?”

„I was sure you forgot.” she said softly and he fought off the urge to turn around and look at her.

The waffles turned out perfect and he found vanilla ice cream in the freezer and made her another coffee; with condensed milk and vanilla, strong and sweet, just how she liked it.

And that was the last time he saw her before everything went to shit.

*** It was a Wednesday afternoon and they were all playing together; „just one match” they kept saying for five games now. It was going well. They were having fun and even Gordon seemed to be way less annoying than usual. Oz could hear Harry in the background of everything Charlie was saying; but she seemed to be in a good mood, so that was all that mattered.

He was playing Hog that evening; he started to – very stubbornly – play him when Charlie offhandedly, jokingly mentioned Hog looks like someone who'd treat her right.

(Nobody commented on it. Nobody pointed out it probably says something disturbing about her relationship.)

She was playing Mercy and the enemy Mei was going after her like her life depended on it; at some point Oz just hooked her away, to make her fuck off.

„God, Oz, I could kiss you right now.” Charlie said, flying up to Louise who was testing out Pharah. „Thanks!”

„Everything for you.” he said nonchalantly, pretending he doesn't see the enemy Soldier sneaking around. „Pucker up, angel, I want that kiss. Or a solo rez. Both will do.”

„A kiss won't potentially ruin the game for us, so yeah. Pucker up.”

And that was the exact moment everything went to shit, meaning: Harry Spencer – Charlie's apparently-fucking-great boyfriend – threw what could only be described as a temper tantrum.

Turned out he wasn't at all a fan of Charlie joking about kissing other people – and they heard it all, because he didn't realize that even though she instantly turned the game off (leaving them hanging, but it didn't matter; they were too concerned to keep playing properly anyway and told the enemy team to do whatever they want) the discord was still running in the background, her good quality mic picking everything up.

Every insult. Every threat. Every tearful apology.

0swald

what should we do???

RaptureFucker

call the cops

WizardOfOz

they'll only make things worse for her. I'm going to pay them a visit.

victoriousvale YOU'RE going to make things worse for her, wtf, stay where you are!

gourdon I'm with him on this one though. Cops won't do any good. Cobblepot, you still there?

0swald

yes

gourdon ...not you. The other one.

0swald

he just left. i can hear his bike, i think he's serious.

victoriousvale he's going to get them both killed!!!!!!

RaptureFucker

vicki

did you know?

victoriousvale about what

RaptureFucker harry being like this

did anyone know?

anyone?

victoriousvale no, i didn't!!! but you heard him!!! if oz will show up at their doorstep now it's going to end up in a fucking bloody mess!!

gourdon

Fine. I'm on it. I'll be there before him. I'll stop him.

0swald

don't kill my cousin!

gourdon I'm not going to fight him, I'm going to talk some sense into him. Gordon out.

When Oz stopped his bike in front of the building where Charlie and Harry lived, Gordon was waiting for him on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets.

„What the fuck are you doing here?!” Oz snarled at him, trying to get past. „I'm going in.”

„No, you're not. You're going to calm down. And then, you and I... Then we're going to talk.”

Gordon's grip on his shoulder was surprisingly firm. Blinded by fury, Oz grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close, staring into his infuriatingly calm eyes.

„I'm going in.” he repeated.

„I texted her right before you showed up.” Gordon said, still staring at Oz. „I asked her if everything's alright, because she suddenly logged off. She texted back. Meaning she's alive. And you can't just barge in.”

„Why?”

„What makes you think she wants your help?” Jim finally blurted out. „Do you think that was the first time it happened? Do you really believe it?”

His thoughts came back to the first time he saw her, to the redness around her eyes and the way their lips almost met, the way she put her fingers on his shoulders.

„No.” he finally replied. „No, I don't think that was the first time.”

„Do you want her to leave him, Cobblepot?”

„That's none of your business.”

„Oh but it is. It is my business.”

„What the fuck do you want, Gordon?”

„For you to hear me out.” Gordon replied stoically, still staring him down. „We can help each other.”

„I don't want your help.”

„No, but you need it. And because I don't need yours... This is my first and last offer. Hear. Me. Out.”

„Fuck. Fine.” Oz said, giving up. „The fuck you want?”

„Are you in love with Charlie, Cobblepot?”

„That's none of your fucking business, Gordon.”

„You are then. So obviously, you want to help her, because... She's too good for this situation, right? She doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve her. You want to help her out, maybe you're even hoping she'll leave him for you...”

„What's your point?”, Oz interrupted him, feeling way more uneasy than he'd like to admit.

„I'll be blunt: we both want the same things for two very different people. I'm of course talking... About Oswald.” Gordon finally announced, his voice cracking just a bit. „I love your cousin, Cobblepot. And he's in the same exact shit as Charlie, it's just... A bit less obvious. And I want you to help me get him out of it. In exchange... I can help you with Charlie. I have classes with Spencer. I can work him. Get a confession out of him.”

„And what if I refuse? Will you just... Leave Charlie? In this bullshit?”

„She still has you, doesn't she? But the question is... If your gentle pushes will be enough to wake her up.”

„Are you expecting me to befriend Nygma?”

„What? No, this is out of question. He knows you're Oswald's cousin, he'll never open up to you. No, I want you to employ your less personal skills. Oh, stop making that face, of course everyone knows you've been stealing files.”

They were standing on the empty sidewalk, facing each other; Gordon seemed to be perfectly, unnaturally calm and Oz was still shaking from thinly veiled fury that was making his blood boil.

„We can get confessions out of Spencer and Nygma. We can make Charlie and Oswald face the facts. We can help them make the right decision. We can... We can help them. Ruin the illusion.”

„Fuck. Fine.” Oz repeated, feeling infuriatingly helpless. „Fine. Deal. I'll see what I can find. Maybe he said something to one of his weird friends. I'm still going to try to talk some sense into Charlie though.”

„She won't listen, but fine, have it your way.” Gordon said politely and turned around, ready to leave.

„Hey, Gordon.”

„Yeah?”

„I'm not doing this for you, yeah? I'm only doing this for her.”

„And here I thought you actually care about your cousin.” Jim said mockingly, walking away. „Go home, Cobblepot. Oswald's worried sick.”

He disappeared behind the corner, leaving Oz alone with his thoughts and an overwhelming desire to spill some blood.

*** He next saw Charlie next week, when he was paying Vicki a visit with some beer and sadness. Charlie was there and she was about to leave and he really, really wished she'd stay.

She looked as chipper as always and seemed to be genuinely surprised when he put his hand on her shoulder when they were in the corridor.

„Is everything alright, Charlie?” he asked, looking into her – blue, blue, blue – eyes.

„What do you mean?” she nervously replied, nervously pressing her bag to her chest.

„With you and Harry. Is everything okay? Because I'm here if you need to vent. If he's... Not treating you right.”

For a moment he was sure she's going to crack. That she's going to let her feelings out. That this was all it took to solve the problem-

but instead she only furrowed her brows and pursed her lips.

„My relationship is my own, Oz.” she said sharply. „Mind your business.”

And just like that she turned around and left, leaving him alone and heartbroken.

„Wow. Real smooth.” Vicki said mockingly, walking out of the kitchen. „See? That's why I don't take dating tips from you.”

„I just want to help her.” he said, setting his beer-filled bag down.

„Then at least be smart about it. Have you talked to Gordon?”

„Yeah. And he told me the same exact thing.”

„But you're not going to listen since it's coming from him, so let me be your voice of reason. Be smart about it, Oz. She doesn't want your help. Make her want it. Make her realize she needs it.”

It all sounded simple and doable, but the truth was – he had no idea how to get around to doing it. How could she not see everything's wrong? How could she not see this is not how she should be treated?

(Even putting his own way of treating her aside – there were still other people. Oswald. Louise. Her other friends he didn't really know all that well. They were all treating her with kindness, because she never did anything to deserve anything less – so why couldn't she see Harry isn't giving her what she deserves?)

But, alas – he tried. Next time he saw her neither of them mentioned her sudden, short-lived outburst; she was all smiles and oh!s again, all charm and bubbliness. He learned his lesson from that one time though, and didn't try to openly talk about it again – at least not with her.

(He talked about her a lot behind her back, mostly with Vicki and Oswald; and Oswald seemed to agree that this situation is bullshit. He even promised to try to talk sense into her, as a friend, as someone who knew her considerably better than Oz.)

Watching Charlie – and remembering every fucking word Harry said to her – made Oz notice a few things about his cousin. He always knew something is up with Nygma; but he never really thought about it, believing his cousin knows what's best for him. He was of Cobblepot bloodline, after all – but their frequent night discussions almost made him look at Oswald the same way Gordon was probably looking at him.

(He and Gordon were in touch, which was weird and felt wrong, but they had to. One time, when Gordon was being particularly annoying with his pestering Oz over his lack of progress in going through Nygma's files, Oz outright asked him what does he see in his cousin?

„I don't know. What do you see in Charlie?” Jim then asked in return.

„She's just... Good. She's gentle. And beautiful.” he said, not sure why is he being so honest with Gordon of all people.

„Here's your answer then.”

For once in his life Oz felt like he has something in common with Jim Gordon.)

Not even once did Oz as much as consider confessing his feelings to Charlie. There was no point in doing so – he was damn sure only she only sees him platonically. The almost-kiss was often on his mind; but that night she was distraught. Maybe slightly drunk (though her breath didn't smell of alcohol and her eyes were clear); and she never sygnalized any attraction to him.

(He knew damn well he's handsome and he knew damn well about his bad boy charm. Didn't seem to be working on her though.)

*** Two months had passed since his late-night conversation with Gordon. Their weird pact was seemingly going nowhere – Oz couldn't find anything on Nygma's drive and Gordon couldn't get anything out of Harry Spencer, despite putting his best douchebag face on.

(Louise, who was also a law student and saw this first-hand confirmed Gordon is really trying to befriend Harry for some reason. His efforts weren't entirely futile – Spencer did seem to be comfortable around Jim, comfortable enough for rape jokes and some slut shaming; but not comfortable enough for truth about his girlfriend. Not comfortable for anything Gordon didn't already know about.)

Oz was alone that night; Oswald was studying with Louise and Gordon at their place and Vicki was writing three papers at the same time. He was alone that night and only had his thoughts to accompany him and – as usual – Charlie entered the picture, all soft and pink and beautiful.

He was just indulging some of his wants (her skin under his fingers her fingers in his hair their breaths tangled together) when his phone buzzed on the table and he blindly picked up, sure it was Oswald with an emergency.

„Oz.” he heard Charlie say, and she sounded so tense and awkward and sad. „Am I interrupting?”

„...no.” he muttered, his hand still moving. „What's up?”

„Can... Can I come over?” she asked hesitantly. „I'm sorry, I know it's so sudden and you probably have plans, but-”

„No, it's not a problem. You can come.” he interrupted her hastily. „Oswald's not home though.”

„I know. I just... Want some company.”

(It almost sounded like she's settling for something less, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind being something less, if it meant being anything at all to her.)

„I can bring some muffins.” she added after a moment. „I'll be there... In an hour.”

„Sure.” he said, closing his eyes. „See you.”

(He had no remorse for jacking off during the call. She didn't know. It didn't influence her life in any way.)

When she showed up he was on the couch in the living room, reading. He took a shower and put on clean clothes; just for her.

„You hair's wet. Did you shower just for me?” she asked, entering the room. „I'm touched.”

„Everything for you.” he said, forcing himself to not look up from his book. „What brings you here?”

„Harry's out and I'm feeling lonely.” she said, sitting down in Oswald's favorite chair. „Are you sure I'm not interrupting anything?”

„You spend so much time here it doesn't even count as coming over anymore, you know. So no. You're not interrupting anything.”

He finally put his book down and looked at her; she looked sad.

„What's eating you?” he asked and she blinked at looked at him.

„What?”

„You look sad. What's eating you?”

„I guess I'm just tired. Long week.”

She wasn't telling him the truth, and he knew that; she was hiding something. But fine. He decided he's not going to push.

They ordered some food; he convinced her to give his favorite place – a small takeout bar ran by a very jolly, very Slavic family – a chance and she seemed to genuinely enjoy the bizzarre wonders of East European food. They binged Brooklyn 99 together – her choice, not his.

About halfway through the second season she turned around to face him. He only had a chance to notice her fingers trembling slightly, before she suddenly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

That night she tasted like a weird mix of bubblegum, cherry coke and pierogi; and he didn't want to push her away, even though he knew he should. He didn't want the moment to stop.

He was on his back and she was on top of him, still kissing him, her fingers still trembling; and he could feel something warm and wet on his face.

Tears.

„Charlie?” he muttered, finally breaking the kiss. „You're crying.”

„I know, dumbass.” she said, tears still streaming down her face and falling on his. „Sorry.”

„Hey.” he said softly, slowly sitting up, forcing her to back up a bit. „We should talk.”

„No, I should leave.” she said, averting his eyes. „I... I don't know what happened. Sorry.”

„Don't lie to me.” he blurted out without thinking. „Please. Not to me.”

She finally looked at him and he handed her a tissue and she wiped her tears and then... Then she started talking.

„I'm sorry.” was the first thing she said. „This isn't right. This isn't right, but it's just how I feel. I know a person can love two people at once, I know, but you and Harry... You two are so different.”

(Yeah, obviously – Oz thought – one's not a COMPLETE douchebag.)

„I just... I don't know. Can I be blunt?”

„Of course.”

„You're on my mind a lot lately.” she blurted out, looking embarassed. „When I'm alone. Or not. I think you're hot. And it's been on my mind... A lot. When I'm around you... I feel things I don't feel when I'm around Harry.”

„What do you feel around him?” he asked quietly and she only smiled and shook her head.

„My relationship's my own, Oz. Remember?”

„Yeah, well, it seems like I just became a part of it, want it or not.”

She closed her eyes and sighed and when she opened them again, she looked surprisingly peaceful, even though there were still faint trails of tears on her cheeks.

„Do you think Harry's bad for me?” she finally asked and his heart stopped for a moment.

„Is that a trick question?” he asked carefully.

„Maybe.”

„And do you want me to be honest?”

„I'm not expecting anything less. Not from you. You've always been honest with me.”

„Then yes.” he said finally, giving up on trying to uphold the facade. „I think he's bad for you.”

„Funny thing... I've been thinking exactly the same.”

„Wait, what?” he asked, not fully comprehending what just happened.

She gave him a sad smile and shook her head.

„I love him, but I don't think he loves me. I don't feel loved. I don't feel appreciated. I don't feel wanted. I only feel... Lonely. Useless. Like a prop. A thing. And do you know on whose attention I always could count? Who never failed to make me feel less terrible, who complimented me on my cooking, who kept their eyes on me?”

„No.” he said softly, despite already knowing the answer.

„You. You did. All this time, all these months... You've been filling this void. Just because. Without asking for anything in return.”

(She wasn't entirely right, but he wasn't going to correct her.)

„But why me, specifically? There are other people. You and Oswald seem close.”

„Oz, don't play dumb. I know the truth. Oswald told me.”

„WHAT?”

„We got sad drunk once. I said... I said I wish you saw me the way I see you. And Oswald... Oswald then just looked me, his eyes wide open, like he just heard the most outrageous thing ever, and just said YOU DON'T KNOW?”

(How did his cousin know? How did he figure it out?)

„I know you have feelings for me.” she whispered, putting her hand on his. „I know. And I think... This is what kept me going.”

„Are you going to break up with Harry?”

„I can't.” she replied after a long silence. „I... I don't know how. I don't know if I want to. I keep telling myself... He'll change. For the better.”

„How many times, Charlie? How many times have you told yourself that?”

„I lost count.” she said quietly. „After every argument. Every... Every threat. Every word. But I still love him. I can't just leave him. But I also... I think I also love you. Will you judge me if I stay with him?”

„It's not safe for you. If he'll find out...”

„He won't. Besides... I know I can count on you. Right?”

She brushed his knuckles with her index finger.

„Right.” he said quietly. „So... What about us? What does it make me?”

„Kiss me.” she said instead of actually answering. „It's been so long... Kiss me. Kiss me like I've been imagining you would.”

„Yeah? How exactly?” he asked, giving in, pulling her closer. „Do you want me to be gentle? Rough?”

„Take your pick.” she muttered in response. „Both will work.”

He kissed her gently, tenderly; he could feel her fingers in his hair, on his back, on his shoulders. He didn't want to let her go, not after all these months. And he didn't want to think about what will happen when the sun rises and she'll come back home, to Harry; he was sure they'll find a way to fix this mess, to get her out of it.

(He wanted to message Gordon right here, right now, to tell him Charlie's been aware of everything, to tell him all his efforts to befriend Spencer were actually for nothing).

They only kissed that night, but it was enough. They had time.

*** It took her a month to break up with Harry Spencer, a long, surprisingly painful month. They never mentioned anything to other people; no pet names, no small, casual displays of affection. Just in case. Just to be careful. They were doing a great job at hiding, at only brushing lips when no one was around, at only calling each other „love” when nobody could hear it – but eventually, the truth came out.

Thankfully, it came out to their friends at first. She asked him if he can pick her from appointment at a tattoo parlor and drop her off at a cafe, where she was going to meet Louise; he naturally agreed, saying she can repay him in kisses or muffins, because good god, he loved her muffins.

But she never showed up and wasn't picking up her phone; and when he called Louise to ask if she has any idea what's going on he heard Charlie's in Gordon's room. She showed up on their doorstep, crying, sobbing, and refused to say what's going on, so they wrapped her in a blanket and waited for her to calm down a bit.

„At some point she just... Dozed off.” Louise muttered to him. „And now she's sleeptalking. Something about Harry... And something about you. Jim asks if there's something you want to tell us.”

There was nothing he wanted to tell them – but there was something he had to tell them.

That was the first time he heard Jim Gordon lose his composure.

„ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Gordon roared at him through the phone. „FUCK!”

„Hey, our arrangement's still a thing. I'm keeping my end of the deal.”

„How could you do this to her?! Do you have ANY IDEA what kind of danger you're putting her in?!”

„She initiated everything!”

„And you're a grown ass man! Why didn't you just say no?!”

„Oh, fuck off, you hypocrite, don't think I didn't see you and Oswald making out in the kitchen two weeks ago. You're the last person who has any right to judge me. Now give Louise her phone back.”

„You made out with her?” Louise said immediately after getting her phone back. „Wow, Cobblepot. Just wow.”

„Look, as for now I'm her side boyfriend. That's just the way things are. How is she?”

„Bad. That was a regular breakdown.”

„Any idea what triggered it?”

„I have two theories. One – Harry threw a hissy fit again. Two – she feels like she's using you.”

„Both equally grim. Should I come over?”

„Heavens, no. She's in good hands. You... Just go home. Oz!”

„What?”

„You're not going to cheat on her, are you?”

„I'm going to say it once. I've been stuck with a serious fucking case of emotional blueballs for months. Months. I'm not going to fuck this up. Have some faith in me, wouldn't you?”

„Fine. I'm calling Vicki.”

(Vicki called him twenty minutes later, but he was on his bike, so he called her back after reaching his building. She picked up and the first thing he heard was her laughter.

„You fucker!” she eventually said. „I knew you'd do it!”

„Always glad to hear how supportive you are.” he said dryly, looking for his keys. „What did Louise tell you?”

„Everything, Oz. Everything, you little homewrecker.”)

All in all, they took it rather well – especially Oswald, who seemed to be genuinely happy for them and very concerned about Charlie's situation.

(When listening to his cousin's excited chatter he kept wondering if Jim already heard what he heard. If Oswald told him about not feeling loved and about Jim filling some void.)

But their friends knowing wasn't an issue. He knew their friends and he knew nothing will get back to Harry – especially not from Gordon, who was suffering through every minute of trying to get closer to Spencer. No, the truth came out in a way nobody expected – Spencer figured it out by itself.

It was a late Saturday evening when Oswald's phone rang.

„Oh! Charlie's calling.” he said an Oz only muttered something in response, busy fixing a paragraph in a paper he was supposed to submit in few hours.

Few moments later Oswald – even more pale than usual – shook Oz's arm violently, turning his phone's volume all the way up.

„What?!” Oz asked with annoyance, but quickly understood. Charlie called Oswald during an argument with Harry – and things were getting ugly.

He went through her phone when she wasn't looking. He went through her phone and found her texts and their discord chat and Oz thanked god Charlie was sensible enough to delete the photo she sent him earlier that week; her freckled skin looked beautiful in the morning sunlight and her black lace bra almost costed him his good composure in class.

„I'm going there.” he said shortly, getting up, walking towards the door. „Call Gordon. Tell him to get a car ready.”

Just like last time, Gordon was waiting for him on the street; but this time he didn't stop him.

„What is going on?” he asked instead. „Oswald didn't give me any details.”

„I'm getting Charlie out of here. And I need you... To stop me from killing Harry Spencer.”

„You picked a wrong man for the job, mate. I want to kill him myself.”

„Tough shit.” Oz said, entering the building. „You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. I can stop you from killing Nygma.”

„What, you found something on him?”

„I've been tracking his online activity and I got something Oswald's definitely not gonna like. It might open his eyes though.”

„Great. But now, let's focus on why we're here.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened and they were standing right in front of the door leading to Charlie and Harry's place.

„Use that stick you got up your ass as a moral compass, Gordon.” Oz said, opening the door without knocking. „Anyone home?”

Spencer wasn't expecting them, they took him by surprise; after a moment he was lying on the floor and Oz was on top of him, his fingers around Spencer's neck.

„Cobblepot, this is enough.” Gordon said eventually, pushing him away. „Leave him to me. You go get her.”

Charlie locked herself in a bathroom and Oz could hear her muffled sobs from behind the door.

„Babe?” he asked carefully, not sure what to do. „Can I come in?”

„Is Harry alive?” she asked in return and he sighed and glanced at a – seemingly unconcious – Spencer, guarded by slighly annoyed Jim Gordon.

„Yeah.” he said. „What, do you want me to change that? It can be arranged.”

„No!” she replied instantly and he heard her unlocking the door. „I don't want you to get in trouble.”

The door opened and he took a step back and she left the bathroom and he instantly felt his blood boil at the sight of her giant black eye.

„Don't kill him.” she repeated, awkwardly trying to cover the mark with her hair. „Don't... Don't look at me.”

„Can I take you home?” he asked, his fists shaking. „I'm not leaving you with him.”

„Can I pack my stuff? He's... He's going to wreck it. I know it. He told me.”

„Take your time.” Gordon said, still sitting next to Spencer. „If you go with him, I'm sure everything will fit inside my car.”

They hastily packed her things – mostly books and clothes and an outstanding amount of kitchen utensils – and put them all in Gordon's car.

In the meantime, Harry Spencer was slowly starting to wake up.

„What the...” he muttered, trying to get up, but was instantly and firmly stopped by Gordon.

„You fucked up.” Gordon told him calmly, despite not being calm at all. „Big time.”

„Gordon?” Spencer muttered, trying to figure out what's going on. „Bro. What the fuck?”

„I'm not your bro, Spencer. Never was. You guys done?” he asked, looking up at Charlie and Oz, who were moving another bag full of stuff.

„Almost.” Oz replied, effortlessly lifting the heavy bag off the floor and in the background Charlie laughed quietly and asked if he's going to pick her up as well.

„Anytime, babe. Anytime.” he then said nonchalantly and walked past Spencer who was slowly piecing things together.

„You fucking cunt.” he said quietly, angrily as Charlie was walking past him.

„If I were you, I'd watch your tongue, Spencer.” Oz said calmly, squatting next to him with a knife in his hand. „You might lose it.”

„You wouldn't dare.”

„Oh, but I would. And it'd be the greatest pleasure, to cut you into small pieces. But Charlie asked me to not hurt you, so...”

„Do you think she's in love with you, Cobblepot?”

„Doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm going to keep an eye on you, Spencer. So you better watch yourself.”

„Are we done here?” Gordon asked, getting up.

„Almost.” Oz said, not taking his eyes away from Harry's face. „Wait for me outside.”

„What? No! I have one job here and I'm not going to fuck it up.”

„I'm not going to kill him, Gordon. I just want to have a friendly little chat with him. Imagine... There's someone else on the floor.”

„You know damn well that if it was Nygma I'd be the one with the knife. But fine. Have it your way.”

Oz joined them a few minutes later, putting his knife back in his pocket. Charlie didn't notice it, as she was facing the other way; Gordon only raised his eyebrows and shook his head with solemn disapproval.

„So, let's go. We need to put some ice on this eye.”

„You can always kiss it better.” Charlie said hesitantly. „I guess... This is the end.”

„I hope so. You're not going back to him, are you?”

„He hit me. He... He tried to...”

„Do you want me to chop his dick off? It can be arranged.”

„I just want to go home. Can I stay with you and Oswald for a while? I need to call my parents. Figure it out with them.”

„You can stay as long as you want to.” he said softly, handing her his spare helmet. „You can stay forever. We'll figure it out. It's not like money's any problem for any of us.”

„Can we go now?” Gordon asked impatiently, ruining the mood. „I have some stuff to do.”

Back home – where Oswald was waiting, all anxiety and stress and questions – he made her waffles, just the way she liked them. He – gently, carefully – kissed her black eye and put some cold compress on it.

„Hey, Oz?” she said eventually, as they were on a couch, her head on his lap, his fingers in her hair. „I love you.”

„And I love you, beautiful stranger.”

She laughed and he knew that she's going to be alright, one way or another.

#ff #oc #eng #collegeverse #pinnguin

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rozonelayer-blog · 7 years ago

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Saturday 19th May

Royal wedding today. Who actually cares? Evidently I do, because my blog is suppose to be a *Sunday* summary, yet here I am...

Today I found out that my flatmate Lucy and her boyfriend Hudson broke up. My first instinct was to tell Ro but I have held off for now.

Lucy got together with Hudson at around the same time I got together with Ro. This was a year or so ago, before we lived together - the flatshare started in mid-October. We were chatting at Svetla's birthday drinks and she told me about the guy she was seeing, said it was a bit intense for her at first because he's 31 and seemed to consider it a relationship from the beginning. I said I sympathised, said I'd just got together with a 28 year old (I was 24 at the time). When we woke up together the first time, the first thing he wanted to know was "What is this?" My heart sank because I thought, why does it have to be a thing - something with a label? Why can't it be our secret little something for now? And I told her how the first time he stayed over at mine, I woke in the middle of the night, and Ro took my face in his hands and said "I love you" - italics because that was his tone of voice.

Since moving in with Lucy and Svetla, I've felt uncomfortable about their attitude to Ro. It seems clear that they don't approve of how much time I spend with him. And there's the comparison that no one wants to make - that Lucy sees Hudson once every two months, if that. That's partly because they both work shifts, and partly because a few months into their relationship, he decided to move back in with his parents - in Orpington. If Greater London is the solar system, Orpington is Pluto/Planet X, i.e. further away than Neptune. He's saving up for a house, supposedly, so he is taking on as many shifts as he can, and living rent-free with his parents. Lucy couldn't stay over at his ever because he never told his parents about her. He said that she'd meet his parents at his father's retirement party, which she duly put in her calendar, and she bought a new dress and had her outfit planned a good month in advance. This was in November. The retirement party was supposed to be on a Friday night; on the Friday morning, he texted her to tell her he'd made a terrible mistake, and the party had actually been the previous night, on the Thursday.

Another time, he was supposed to come round one Sunday night. I knew he must be coming round because Lucy cleaned her room. (Sidenote: it peeves me a little that Lucy is the messiest one in the house, yet makes her room beautiful every time Hudson is supposed to come round: he must think that she's the tidy one, and Svetla and I are the messy ones.) But he never showed up; at eleven, Lucy gave up and shut herself in her room for the night. The next day, Horace told her that at the last minute he'd been called and offered an extra shift, so he took it. Why didn't he let Lucy know? Because his phone ran out of battery so he couldn't call her. The same phone that his boss called him on to offer him an extra shift...

Whenever I hear something new about Hudson, I tell Ro, and if I haven't mentioned Lucy-and-Hudson for a while, Ro asks. It's juicy gossip for us. Our fascination with them is maybe something to do with the frosty welcome Lucy and Svetla tend to give Ro - for reasons I still can't work out. But I think we'd be curious anyway. Other couples are always a curiosity, also when you're single, but I think especially when you're in one yourself. Before Ro I've always hated the business of letting mutual friends know I'm with a boyfriend because it opens the floodgates of Judginess. This is really why my heart sank when Ro asked "What is this?" I don't want it to be a thing because I don't want to tell people. Once you've told people, the gossip and judging begin: what does she see in him? Why did/didn't he do X, Y and Z? Do they really love each other? That's never going to last...

I think there's a there-but-for-the-grace-of-god-go-I aspect to it as well. For example, when my pal Pete tells me that his girlfriend gets huffy if he wants to read his book - "But why don't you want to spend time with me?" - I think, thank God Ro likes reading and lets me do my own thing on a Sunday afternoon.

Conversely, there have been times when friends who I thought would be with their other halves forever have split up, and it really rocks your world. My friend Dan broke up with his girlfriend Susie when we were 17. Within a month, he was with a girl I'd never even heard him mention before, called Phoebe. "That'll never last," I thought contemptuously. Seven years later they're still an item - shows what I knew. And when Luke and Marcella broke up...

Today's the royal wedding. Today is an occasion for either celebrating or despairing at what has become of the United Kingdom. There are a million pertinent issues to be discussed here (a few of them mentioned in this article that my grumpy father sent me this morning). And yet somehow, my friend Precious updates her instagram story celebrating the gospel choir and the sermon delivered by a Black priest, and what do I text her saying? "What do you think though? Personally I don't really get what Meghan Markle sees in prince harry but I am aware that it's not for me to judge"

So I’m not telling Ro about Lucy and Hudson - because do unto others.

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Not Nineteen Forever (12) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: hey friends! here’s chapter 12 of Not Nineteen Forever, i’m sorry it’s so late but i want to thank everyone who waited patiently and was so polite and encouraging while waiting. it really made me smile! remember i always love and am so grateful for sweet comments either on AQ, through reblog, or on my blog, so keep them coming bc they motivate me no end!! hope u all enjoy this chapter (p.s. finally accepted the ninex in this fic is not in any way background any more xo) xxxxxxx

trigger warning: alcohol n naughty texts xo

last chapter: Monet and Nina continued to be adorable, Yvie and Scarlet continued to be cute, but Brooke wasn’t sure if she wanted the same for her and Vanessa.

this chapter: there’s library woes, a flat party, a lilac-haired, tattooed bombshell, and Yvie confides in Scarlet.

***

Scarlet let a long puff of air out of her cheeks and blinked at her laptop, bored. She’d been so eager for Uni to start back again, so excited to get back to the city and see her friends that she slightly forgot about the whole academic aspect of everything. Lectures had started that week and in between trying to force four different modules’ worth of information into her head she had caught up with Vanjie, chatting before, after and in between lectures when they could. It was interesting, Scarlet thought. Before Christmas she could never get her to shut up about Brooke and how things were going with her but ever since the holidays it seemed as if Brooke was a subject to be avoided. Scarlet knew something must have changed but she didn’t want to push Vanjie for information if she wasn’t ready to share it. They still seemed to be together, anyway, even if things seemed a little strained.

At least she could say that wasn’t the case for her and Yvie. After many long evening Skype sessions during the holidays, the pair of them had decided that they couldn’t bear to be apart a moment longer and so Scarlet had taken the six hour train to go and stay with her girlfriend at her family home for a few days. She had been a bag of nerves at the thought of meeting Yvie’s family, but her Mum had been lovely (and seemingly just relieved that her daughter had settled down), her Dad had been welcoming, if a little quiet (“He’s under strict instructions not to speak because every time he opens his mouth he embarrasses me��), and the brothers and sisters that were still at home and not out somewhere or back to uni themselves were kind and friendly. In the three days they spent together, Scarlet and Yvie went for cold, crisp walks along the beach, curled up on Yvie’s old battered leather sofa the family had had since she was small and watched Disney films, gone ice skating, and looked out over Yvie’s city on a rickety ferris wheel that had looked as if it would take one good sneeze to knock it down.

But all that movie-screen romance was behind her now, as the most romantic Scarlet had been with Yvie in the week since they’d been back at uni was a Tesco Finest £10 meal deal cooked in Yvie’s flat and then watched in front of the TV as a perfect accompaniment to Coronation Street. They were both busy and waiting for their academic life to slow down a little again. The same could be said for their whole friendship group, really. The whole gang hadn’t done anything all together since their Christmas dinner, and Scarlet was itching for a night out where she could get absolutely off her face and forget that she was working towards the degree that would define the rest of her life. Sighing again and feeling the words on her laptop merge into a big blur, Scarlet looked up at the big clock on the wall. Five o'clock. She turned to Akeria who was sat at the desk beside her. She and Silky had come to join her mid-study, the latter having been dragged into the library by her flatmate because she still hadn’t handed in an essay that had been due since before Christmas and Akeria was quite frankly concerned.

“Akeria,” Scarlet whispered, the other girl quickly finishing a sentence she was working on, turning away from her laptop towards Scarlet and pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I want a night out. This is shit.”

“This is what we signed up for, baby,” Akeria gave a small laugh and shrugged, turning back to her laptop. Akeria’s dissertation wasn’t due until May but she had already started writing it, which struck the fear of God into the majority of their friendship group and made them all feel like slackers. “This is uni. This is our fuckin�� degree, girl.”

“You’re really making me feel better,” Scarlet rolled her eyes, Akeria giving another laugh under her breath.

“Hey,” Silky said from her position at the desk across from them, her voice entirely at speaking-pitch and causing a few heads to turn their way. “What’re you hoes talkin’ about? I want in.”

“We’re bitching about you,” Akeria deadpanned, tapping away at her keyboard.

“Fuck off, Kiki.”

“I want a night out,” Scarlet hissed over to her as quietly as she could. “But Little Miss Law Degree wants to stay in the library from dusk til dawn every evening until she graduates.”

Scarlet’s face lit up as Silky bellowed a laugh so loud it caused the girl beside her to put a set of earphones in. Looking at Akeria and hoping she hadn’t been offended, she was relieved to see the other girl giving her a wry smile.

“This bitch can be so savage when she wants to be, Jesus. Ouch. No, I’m just sayin’! This was what we chose to do, so quit complaining,” Akeria rolled her eyes, leaned back in her chair and stretched. “That being said…I do think I’ve earned a night out.”

“Well me fuckin’ too, bitch!” Silky exclaimed incredulously, Scarlet laughing in spite of herself.

“How much have you written, Silk?” she asked, the girl opposite looking down at her laptop, clicking a few times, then looking back up to the girls in front of her.

“You know what…it don’t matter how many words I’ve done, it’s the level of mental energy I have needed to use in order to-”

“Silky, how many words,” Akeria demanded, fixing her with a stare that looked as if it could slice her in half.

“Ninety-four.”

“Jesus Christ on a crystal meth binge,” Akeria sighed, Scarlet letting out a splutter beside her. Silky looked at them both pleadingly.

“Hey, now don’t make me feel bad! We only been in here-”

“An hour and a quarter,” Akeria stared at her.

Silky threw her hands up. “Well I been doing readings an’ shit! Do you know how hard it is to get any articles that have the exact quote ‘Boris Johnston is a piece of dog shit’? Fuckin’ hard!”

“Why the hell are you looking for that?” Akeria blurted out, unable to keep herself from laughing. Scarlet was laughing so hard she thought she would pass out.

“Because, bitch! I want to use that exact wording in my essay but I need some academic shit to back me up.”

“Fuck me.”

“To be fair, that is the worst,” Scarlet shrugged, not wanting Silky to feel too demoralised. “Searching for three hours to find one reference that can back up one of your points. Like, why can’t you just make the point because you want to? You know? Why is your opinion only valid if it’s been previously thought up by a white man in a suit?"

"Very profound,” Silky nodded emphatically. “Anyway, this bitch needs to get her drink on. I’m going to ask the girls."

As she watched Silky pick up her phone, Scarlet was reminded to check her own. She’d deliberately sat on it and put it on flight mode in an attempt to force herself to do work. Now, she felt as if she could excuse a small break. Turning off flight mode, she watched as a small flood of notifications came through. There had been fifteen new group chat messages, Nina had tagged them all in a meme, and she had two messages from Yvie. She checked the latter first, wondering if she would ever get tired of the feeling of her heart soaring like a balloon every time she saw, heard or spoke Yvie’s name.

Y: if i told u i was considering buying a set of faux-leather underwear would that be weird or a turn-on

Y: also that lasagne is even better on the second day u need to have some of it when ur round

S: Sorry this took me so long!!!!!! I turned my phone on flight mode in an attempt to get some work done

S: No such luck

S: Leather look underwear is a yes from me but i’m inclined to ask for pics first xoxoxoxoxo

S: Also yes i want lasagne

S: That’s not a euphemism btw i actually really do want some lasagne

Y: 😈

As Scarlet gave a soft laugh to herself, she checked what had been going on on the group chat since she’d been studying. She wondered what exciting plans could have been made, or what drama could have happened, or if anyone had any exciting or interesting news.

Okay Then: oh my god

Kim Kardashian-West: ??????

Okay Then: has anyone seen the state of Simon Cowell’s face

Scarlet gave a colossal roll of her eyes. She should have known that, at times, the groupchat could become one massive shitpost.

Kim Kardashian-West: No??? What’s he done to it?? Has he been in a crash?

Okay Then: he might as fucking well have been

What followed was a picture of what seemed to be a man whose face had been partially melted with a blowtorch, until Scarlet looked closer and realised that it was indeed the TV talent show judge.

mose: Jesus Fucking Christ what’s he done to himself

Scarlet’s bitch: that’s frightening

Okay Then: RIGHT???

Scarlet’s bitch: that’s what i see in the corner of my room when i have sleep paralysis

Kim Kardashian-West: That is TRULY the stuff of nightmares!!!!

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Fucking hell Plastique don’t fucking frighten us like that!!!

mose: He must surely see that he looks like shit? Like how could you not?

Okay Then: how can he see anything when his eyebrows are now entirely obscuring his eyes

Kim Kardashian-West: I am actually quite frightened guys

At this point, Scarlet caught up to the current conversation.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: AS TERRIFYING AS SIMON COWELL’S FACE IS

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: CAN WE TALK BUSINESS FOR A SECOND?

Kim Kardashian-West: Of course!

mose: I’m all business

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Sure you are baby xxxxxxx

Scarlet’s Bitch: that is fucking vile keep that shit off the groupchat u big gays

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YA FAV BITCHES ARE IN THE LIBRARY AND WE ARE GAGGING FOR A NIGHT OUT

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: WE AIN’T HAD ONE IN AGES

Okay Then: yaaaaaaaaaas bitches let’s do it

Okay Then: thursday night fever

Kim Kardashian-West: Well Monet invited me to this flat party she’s hosting tonight

Kim Kardashian-West: I could ask her if you guys could come too?

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Omg yes I’m down!

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YES BITCH FLAT PARTY!!!!

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: AND IF SHE SAYS NO JUST SAY SHE AIN’T GETTIN ANY PUSS FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE

Kim Kardashian-West: SILKY!!!!!!!! THAT IS DISGUSTING!!!

Yvie’s Bitch: We were all thinking it xoxo

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: AHAHAHAHAHA SILK

Okay Then: YES Scarlet

Kim Kardashian-West: You’re all horrible. And uninvited.

mose: Ninaaaaaa

Okay Then: Nina pls

Scarlet’s Bitch: fuck i’m not even sure i can do tonight ladies

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YVIE DONT YOU DARE

Scarlet’s Bitch: i’ve got a 9am tomorrow and i want to get that first u know

mose: Yvieeee the last time we were all together was literally over a month ago

Scarlet pouted to herself, disappointed at the thought of Yvie being the only one not out. Suddenly, an idea began to form in her head. Biting back a smile, she took to her chat with Yvie.

S: Yvieeeee

Y: Scarleeeeet

S: Please come to the flat party :(((((((

S: I’ll do anything you want

Y: anything i want?

S: Yesssss

Y: that sounds like a challenge princess

Scarlet crossed her legs and felt herself squeezing her thighs together. Looking around at the rows of silent people, she turned her phone brightness down to make extra sure nobody could see her messages, just in case the conversation turned the way Scarlet thought it was about to.

S: Well it depends on what you want me to do x

Y: wellllll

Y: i’ve been wondering if u can take a strap like a good girl

Scarlet felt briefly as if she’d been shocked by a defibrillator. Yvie always seemed to go from 0 to 100 real fucking quick, and Scarlet couldn’t help but love it.

S: You know I could baby

Y: i know you could, you’re such a good girl

Y: so how about if i come to this party i get to watch u bounce on my dick until u cum all over it

Scarlet could feel her face growing red. She and Yvie had messaged like this before, when they had been at home and miles away from each other and alone and very much not-in-a-public-place, but this was so fucking different.

S: Christ Yves I’m in the library!!!!

Y: shut up u started all this!!

S: Yeah I kinda did

Y: deliberately getting me to tell u what i want to do to u later when ur sitting in public in a fucking silent building

Y: jesus fucking christ Scarlet that’s so hot

Scarlet felt an urgent pulse of heat between her legs and she squirmed in her seat.

S: Where are you just now?

Y: i’m in bed

Y: touching myself at the thought of u sitting absolutely soaking wet and being able to do fuck all about it

S: So you’re coming to the party baby?

Y: how about

Y: if u can get to the flat before i cum i’ll fuck u into the mattress and i’ll come to this party or whatever

Scarlet nearly jammed her fingers in her laptop in her haste to get it shut, wrenched her charger out of its socket so hard it almost broke, and muttered a near-breathless goodbye to a confused Akeria and Silky all in the space of about twenty seconds as she struggled into her coat and sped out into the stairwell.

Five hours later Scarlet had managed to fit a lot in. She’d hurried round to Yvie’s to find her in bed in the black lace underwear she knew drove Scarlet crazy, and they’d fucked twice (fast, rough and passionate then sweet, tender and gentle) before Scarlet had reluctantly dragged herself out of Yvie’s bed to head back to her own flat and get ready for the party. Nobody seemed to know what the dress code was, least of all Nina who had sent about nine different outfit options to the group chat for opinions, so Scarlet settled on a tight black bandage dress that stopped at her calves, with trainers to dress it down a bit. She’d hurriedly munched down a bowl of pasta a la whatever-was-left-in-the-fridge, then set off across town to meet the girls at the edge of the park, where they had decided they would all meet then walk together to Monet’s flat.

Scarlet heard her friends before she saw them, Vanjie’s distinctive laugh ricocheting off trees and mixing with Yvie’s Bond-villan one letting Scarlet know she was heading in the right direction. Finally reaching the group, Scarlet gave them all a hug in turn and took in each of their outfits. It was still icy and cold, so most of them had opted for trainers over heels- save for Plastique, who always wore them for any night out and Vanjie, who was wearing chunky heeled boots. Much of their clothes clashed with the weather, though. Plastique and Akeria were in tight dresses, Brooke and Silky were in short skirts and tops. Vanjie had chosen some loose-fitting ripped denim jeans and a tiny bodysuit which left little to the imagination. Nina had gone for a light blue t-shirt dress and a chunky pair of trainers, her nerves palpable even in the group dynamic. Scarlet thought Yvie looked the best though in her burnt orange velvet skirt and tight black long-sleeved bodysuit, her unruly hair tamed and brushed into two huge bunches.

"You look nice, Nina!” Scarlet complimented her in an attempt to calm her down.

“Aww, Scarlet! Do I actually?” Nina smiled brightly, then cringed at herself. “Fuck! Why can’t I just take a fucking compliment like a goddamn normal person? I do this with Monet all the time!”

“Because you got a big-ass crush,” Silky shrugged. “It’s almost as big as Akeria’s ass. Not quite, though.”

“Shut up,” Akeria rolled her eyes and shoved her friend.

“Does it even count as a crush if you’re seeing the person in question?” Scarlet wondered out loud. Plastique shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Don’t know. Ask Brooke or Vanjie.”

The group exploded into laughter, something about it not quite meeting Brooke or Vanessa’s eyes. They were both standing close together, hands entwined, but Scarlet didn’t know. There seemed as if there was something off. Forced, even.

“Okay, let’s go, motherfuckers. I’m freezing my vagina off,” Vanjie said decisively, Nina moving first and making to lead the way.

“Right, a few things before we arrive,” Nina began speaking at a mile a minute before Scarlet could even compliment Yvie on her outfit. “Monet has somehow got it into her head that you guys are cool enough to be invited to this party. She doesn’t know the truth yet, so just try to act like a group of normal fucking human beings?”

“The truth? What the hell is that meant to mean?!” Brooke let out a laugh.

“That you’re all fucking weirdos! And she, for some reason, still likes me, so I am not having you all put that in jeopardy, capiche?” Nina snapped back, only half-joking.

“Jeez, thanks,” Akeria rolled her eyes, Nina instantly protesting.

“I’m joking! I’m joking. But not really. Like Silk, please try not to overdo it tonight?”

Silky raised her eyebrows and sucked her cheeks in. “I’m making no promises, girl.”

“Akeria, please don’t accidentally make out with anyone’s boyfriends?”

“Oh my God Nina! That happened ONCE!” Akeria cried out incredulously.

“And Vanjie, don’t-”

“Nina. We’re not going to embarrass you. Chill the fuck out,” Yvie rolled her eyes and squeezed the shoulder of the girl in front of her.

The girls all finally reached Monet’s old, red-brick building and her front door, and Nina pressed the buzzer nervously. There came a crackly screech of mayhem through the intercom which contained unintelligible speech, and then the girls were all quickly buzzed in. Scarlet looked to Yvie questioningly as she wondered if she’d heard any words, but she also appeared to be as clueless as she was. It didn’t seem to faze any of the other girls though, as Vanjie was already bounding up the stairs with Akeria as fast as her chunky heels could carry her. They didn’t have to walk far, as Monet’s flat was on the first floor. Vanjie moved to open the door first when it was suddenly wrenched open from the other side to reveal a tiny, skinny blonde girl with her hair curled and loose on her shoulders. Her pink dress was as tiny as she was, but regardless of her size she looked ready to fight.

“Who the fuck are you?” she addressed Akeria, barely acknowledging the others. “You here to sell us girl scout cookies, or an Avon catalogue, check our meter readings maybe?"

Just as Akeria looked as if she would instigate a full-scale fight, Nina poked her head out from behind Brooke’s tall frame. "Cracker, don’t be a dick!”

The girl’s face immediately relaxed into a wide, shameless smile. “Nina! Oh my God, you bitch, I never saw you! Come in, God!”

Akeria still bristling and Vanjie not too dissimilar, the girls all trooped into the flat which immediately struck Scarlet as something out of an American teen Netflix special. The hall was dark with the occasional string of fairy lights, and was packed full of people. Scarlet instinctively reached for Yvie’s hand in the crowd and got a squeeze back without even having to look at her. Nina and the girl, Cracker apparently, led them through to a huge bedroom which had obviously once been a living room but had been repurposed by a money-hungry landlord. The room was quieter but still had its fair share of people dotted about in amongst the Morrocan market wall-coverings, tiny elephant incense stick holders, and swathes of printed photos and posters that covered the walls like tiles. A huge bed sat to one side where Monet sat sprawled out with her shoes kicked off, chatting to a black girl with a huge afro that otherwise looked so identical to her Scarlet assumed they must be sisters. Cracker flung herself down on top of the mattress and joined them, gesturing vaguely to the girls.

“Neens!!” Monet suddenly squealed as she looked up, throwing her arms out as Nina launched herself half on the bed and half on top of her. Monet continued, muffled, as the rest of the girls awkwardly lingered. “I’m so happy you came, oh my God, this is so amazing!”

“I brought everyone too. Is that still okay? They can leave if not,” Nina instantly reeled off, Brooke bellowing out a laugh. Monet’s face lit up.

“Oh my God of course not! Brooke! Scarlet! Yvie!! Oh my God, come and hug me,” Monet beamed, her intoxication showing ever so slightly as Brooke graciously leaned down and hugged the other girl them got instantly pulled onto the bed. Monet gestured for everyone to come closer. “Guys! It’s so good to see you all, thanks so much for coming! There’s, like. Endless booze in the kitchen. Feel free to just drink us out of house and home.”

Silky’s face lit up and she immediately grabbed Akeria and Plastique, making to drag them through. “Vanj, you comin’?”

“Get me something? I'mma stay here with my girl,” Vanessa shouted back, giving a smile back to Brooke but finding the other girl looking down at her phone instead. Scarlet frowned involuntarily and then was suddenly distracted by a squeeze of her hand from Yvie (who still hadn’t let go).

“I’m going to go make sure Silky doesn’t give herself alcohol poisoning. You want me to bring you back a drink?” she offered, Scarlet unable to help the smile that spread across her face.

“You’re a sweetheart. Surprise me.”

“A pint glass of tequila it is,” Yvie deadpanned as she walked away, too quick for Scarlet’s hand that swatted at her in response. Scarlet tuned into the conversation that the girls were all having on the bed. It was big, but it was still a bed in a student flat, and so Brooke had her elbows resting on the mattress and her lower body on the floor and Scarlet had had to squeeze up to make room for Vanjie to sit beside her.

“She was guarding the place like fort fuckin’ knox,” Vanessa was saying, a playful side eye being cast to the blonde girl, who let out a laugh.

“You’re an animal,” Monet’s potential sister rolled her eyes. “A living guard dog. We should put a collar on you. One of those ones with spikes.”

“Nah. That’s only reserved for people who want to fuck me. Do you want to fuck me, Bob?” the girl asked easily, before taking a swig of the cider bottle she was holding. Monet hooted a laugh and the other girl didn’t even break her expression.

“I wouldn’t eat your pussy if it was made of chocolate fuckin’ fudge cake. Get the fuck out,” she retorted, Nina looking up at them all from her position on Monet’s tummy.

“Is that not that Lana Del Ray lyric? My pussy tastes like chocolate fudge cake…”

Scarlet let out a laugh that was more like a scream, the others on the bed doing much the same thing. Monet wiped her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Oh my God, okay. For those of you that haven’t met before- this is Cracker and Bob. Two out of the three girls I have the blessing or curse of living with, I haven’t figured out yet,” she gestured to the two girls in turn and then turned to Scarlet. “And this is Scarlet, Vanjie and Brooke Lynn. They’re Nina’s friends, so they’re obviously amazing.”

“Nina could throw up on your bed and you’d say it was amazing,” Cracker looked pointedly at Monet. Monet shrugged and threw her arms around Nina.

“And what?"

"Nice to meet you guys. Are you two sisters?” Scarlet asked, curiosity getting the better of her as she pointed between Bob and Monet. Monet laughed and Bob rolled her eyes.

“Are you saying that all black people look the same?” Bob asked her with a piercing stare, Scarlet’s entire stomach dropping at the thought of having offended her.

“Oh my God, no! No no no, I just thought-”

“She’s kidding, Scarlet. Being a dick, as usual,” Monet cut off Scarlet’s frantic protests and immediately calming her down. “No, we’re not related. We just look spookily alike.”

“You fuckin’ wish you looked even a tenth as good as me. Hey, where the fuck is Monique?” Bob asked suddenly, both Cracker and Monet shrugging.

“Flatmate number four,” Monet quickly cut in to explain.

“Away making some chaotic cocktail, probably,” Cracker shrugged. Bob gave another roll of her eyes, then turned and smiled at Brooke, Scarlet and Vanessa.

“Nice to meet you anyway. Are you all flatmates too?” Bob asked politely, ignoring the position of the slit on her long skirt as she crossed her legs.

“Not us three exactly. Brooke lives with Nina and Yvie, that’s my girlfriend,” Scarlet explained, her stomach full of fizzy fireworks at being able to say that for real. “Vanj lives with Silky and Akeria over on Antigua Road.”

“They’re the best hoes in the world. They’re through in the other room getting drunk, but you’d love them,” Vanjie cut in. Cracker let out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry I was so mean to you.”

Vanessa smiled easily, the free alcohol that the flatmates were providing clearly making up for any perceived slight. “Don’ worry about it, girl. We’d probably do the same if some hoes we didn’t know turned up at our party.”

“What about you, Scarlet?” Bob asked politely, instantly seeming far less intimidating.

“I’m over on the South Side. Kinda far out. I found this girl on SpareRooms to live with, but she’s a bit of a dick,” Scarlet explained awkwardly. Cracker leaned in, her eyes shining excitedly.

“What’s her name?”

“Fuck, I don’t want to say in case any of you are friends with her!” Scarlet laughed, but no protestations came. She lowered her voice as she continued. “It’s Ra'Jah? Ra'Jah O'Hara?”

“Oh, FUCK!” Bob cried out, holding onto Cracker for support as she almost fell off the bed. “I know who that is! She’s in my Econ tutorials! Oh my God, she’s an actual fucking moron. I had a group project with her once and she did literally nothing but talk about drugs and bitch about people on our course.”

As Scarlet was about to launch into how horrifically messy a flatmate she was, Yvie came back from the kitchen with two bottles of beer and a tall black girl with a shock of lilac hair swept up into a ponytail and a matching straight fringe. She was wearing a black pair of jeans and a tiny black cropped t shirt which showed off her many tattoos, and in her hand looked to be an elaborate mojito-style concoction.

“I made a friend!” she cried, before slumping herself down beside Vanjie, Scarlet growing ever more squashed up against the bedpost.

“Oh, the wanderer returns,” Cracker deadpanned. “What did you make?”

“Margarita mojito,” the girl shrugged, sipping her drink to punctuate her sentence. “It’s basically a mojito with a big-ass shot of tequila in it. Guys, this is Yvie! She’s Nina’s friend!”

“Oh, you’re Scarlet’s girlfriend!” Bob smiled at her in recognition, Yvie clambering into a tiny space on the middle of the bed, handing one of the beers to Scarlet, and casting her a look through narrowed eyes.

“What have you been saying about me, bitch?” Yvie smiled playfully, the look she was fixing her causing a sudden flash of heat to strike between Scarlet’s legs.

“All good things, baby,” Scarlet smiled innocently, Yvie relaxing and leaning back against Scarlet’s chest.

“This is Bob and Cracker. They’re my other flatmates. You’ve already met Monique, then?” Monet introduced the girls to Yvie.

“Yeah, we bonded over watching Akeria flirt with people. The bitch is a fucking mastermind. She walked into the kitchen and had a guy talking to her within, like, one minute.”

“Introduce me, introduce me!” Monique bounced on the mattress excitedly. Vanjie came dangerously close to falling off the bed and Monique quickly noticed, reaching a hand out to her and pulling her up with it. “Shit, sorry girl!”

Scarlet watched as Vanessa swept some hair out of her face and cast a quick appreciative glance to Monique’s toned arm. “Holy mother of Jesus, I gotta start goin’ to the gym.”

Monique let out a bark of a laugh. Cracker caught her other arm and held it steady, the tequila/rum combo threatening to fly out of its glass.

“Brooke, Scarlet and Vanjie, meet Monique.

Monique, this is Brooke, Scarlet and Vanjie,” Cracker pointed to each of them in turn, finishing with Vanjie who still seemed to be casting her eyes over Monique.

“Well, Vanessa. But these girls call me Vanjie. Or Vanj. You choose, really,” Vanjie explained to Monique, the girl’s ponytail swishing as she cocked her head.

“You ever get called baby?” she asked, feigning innocence. Scarlet couldn’t help her eyes shooting wide and her brain almost went into meltdown trying to register everyone’s expressions at once. Vanjie was laughing, but her face had flushed pink, clearly flattered. Cracker was screeching a laugh, Bob looked long-suffering. Nina and Monet were looking at each other urgently, and Brooke was properly looking at Vanessa with interest for the first time since they all sat down on the bed. Scarlet couldn’t see Yvie’s face, but she’d felt her tense up, and she couldn’t blame her.

“Yeah. By Brooke Lynn over there,” Vanessa finally said through her laughter, Monique not seeming fazed as she cast a glance to Brooke, who was smiling patiently but inwardly seething if the red tips of her ears were anything to go by.

“Oh, sorry girl! I didn’t know she was taken,” Monique laughed pleasantly.

“Yeah, we’re a thing,” Brooke opened her mouth, breaking her silence. Vanessa was smiling at her from across the bed, and Brooke met her eyes and smiled back.

“A thing?” Monique let out a short laugh, spilling a little of her drink. “A thing is, like, a noun. Not a relationship.”

“Technically a girlfriend is a noun too. Thing, place, person,” Nina piped up, presumably in an attempt to diffuse the increasingly awkward vibe.

“Are you a primary teacher, Nina?!” Cracker asked, clutching her chest in faux-surprise. Nina sighed.

“If I could reach a pillow, I’d thump you."

"Monet, you hearing this? Your girlfriend is practically chatting me up,” Cracker laughed, then stopped suddenly as her face became a mix of horrified and regretful, Bob giving her a not-so-subtle thump on the arm. In lieu of gauging Monet and Nina’s facial expressions, Scarlet whispered her thoughts to Yvie.

“When the hell are they actually going to become official? It’s been ages!” she hissed into her ear, Yvie craning her head round to reply.

“Nina would have to be on a cocktail mixer of cocaine, Es and alcohol to gain even half the confidence it would take her to ask Monet, so she’s waiting on Monet to do it for her. The thing is, I think Monet’s not as confident as we all like to think either. Maybe sometimes Nina’s panic can present itself as disinterest.”

“So Monet’s maybe waiting until she knows where she stands with her?” Scarlet nodded in realisation.

Yvie sipped her drink and took Scarlet’s hand, tracing round her fingers absent-mindedly. “I think so. I mean, we all know Nina’s absolutely ass-over-tit in love with her because we’re her friends, but she’s not going to let that show to Monet until she’s ready.”

Scarlet watched as Yvie played with a large turquoise ring on her finger. Her brow was furrowed as she thought about the situation, and Scarlet’s heart felt like an enormous water balloon- incredibly fragile and full and feeling as if it was about to burst. She thought back to Yvie’s words on Christmas dinner night, the ones she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she’d said them.

Suddenly, she was pulled out of her thoughts by a screech from Vanjie, who was looking at Monique with enrapture as she told a story. Admittedly, most of the other girls were looking at her too, but Scarlet didn’t miss the sparkle in Vanjie’s eyes as she listened.

“And there it was, I swear by almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…a whole baggie of weed, in the bin, covered in Cracker’s vomit.”

It was an odd moment for Scarlet to tune into the story but judging by the roar the girls on the bed gave, it seemed to be over. Vanjie had doubled over laughing and was clinging to Monique’s arm for support, the girl in question smiling down at her as if her reaction was the only one that mattered. Scarlet frowned and leaned into Yvie once more.

“Hey. What the hell is the deal with Brooke and Vanjie?” she whispered, making sure to keep her voice extra low. She instantly felt Yvie tense up in her lap.

“What do you mean? They seem fine to me?” Yvie murmured back. Luckily for Scarlet, she knew that Yvie lied so rarely that it was easy to spot when she was telling one.

“You know something. What is it?” Scarlet hissed urgently in Yvie’s ear. Hearing her give a big sigh, Yvie shifted and then rose on the bed.

“Me and Scarlet are just getting another drink, save our seats,” Yvie announced to the circle, receiving a cheer from Nina.

“Enjoy your sex!” she cried after them, and Scarlet, confused, simply followed Yvie to another room. The hall was quieter now, but the same could not be said of the kitchen, where as they walked in they saw Silky, Akeria and Plastique ringleading a game of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Ignoring their friends, Yvie turned to Scarlet urgently, concern covering her face.

“Okay, Brooke told me this in confidence but you’re my girlfriend so I kind of can’t really keep anything from you, right?” she began, Scarlet nodding quickly and desperate to hear what Yvie knew. “But you CAN’T tell anyone about this, babe. Honestly, it needs to stay between us. Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Scarlet said instantly, her mind in overdrive. Yvie pulled a pained face for a moment, seemingly incredibly conflicted, and then looked to the floor.

“Brooke is having second thoughts about being with Vanjie.”

Scarlet’s face dropped. “What?!”

“Brooke told me that she felt everything was getting too intense, and that Vanj wanted more than Brooke felt she could give her. She’s sticking it out to see if it’s just a blip, but…yeah. Now you know why they’ve both been so weird,” Yvie explained, biting her lip and looking at Scarlet with concern.

Scarlet didn’t know what to think. It all made so much sense, the oddly distant vibes between them both, the strained atmosphere, Vanjie flirting with Monique. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Scarlet. “Does Vanessa know?”

Yvie rolled her eyes. “Yes absolutely, Scarlet, Vanjie is very happy staying with someone who isn’t even sure if she wants things to go further with her, Brooke’s told her everything!"

Scarlet’s mind seemed to fuse. "She needs to know.”

Yvie’s expression dropped. “Oh my fucking Christ, you literally just promised not to tell anyone.”

“Well I didn’t know what it was you were going to tell me! I mean shit, Yvie, imagine that was me and you and I was having second thoughts! Would you want to be kept in the dark?”

Yvie bit her lip and looked to the floor. Scarlet gave a snort. “Exactly, bitch. I’m going to go find her right now-”

“Scarlet, please,” Yvie stopped her quickly, reaching out and grabbing her hand. “Brooke would be fuckin’ raging at me. I told you this shit in confidence. I know it’s hard because you’re close with Vanjie, but can you please…I mean hold off at least. If she asks you about it then, fine. You can tell her. But don’t run through there just now.”

Scarlet’s head felt as if it was a mess. She tapped her foot against the linoleum floor. “Who’s she told?”

“Just me,” Yvie said sincerely, looking into Scarlet’s eyes. “Nina doesn’t know. It’s just us.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m pinning all the fucking blame on you if she finds out I know, you know that?”

Yvie nodded understandingly. Scarlet let out a big sigh. The silence between them hung heavy in the air, at odds with the party happening around them. Suddenly, Plastique tottered into their line of vision, her eyes glazed and drunk.

“Oh my God guys! I haven’t seen you like all night! Selfie!!” she cried, sticking her phone in the air. Scarlet felt herself smile weakly but luckily the photo seemed to be too blurry for anyone to notice. Plastique immediately walked off again.

“Okay bye, nice seeing you,” Yvie deadpanned after her. Scarlet pressed her lips together to stop a laugh escaping them. Yvie caught her eye and snorted, and Scarlet couldn’t help but let out the laugh she’d been holding in. The tension had been diffused by a drunk Plastique, and Scarlet was relieved. She ran her hand down Yvie’s arm and squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just kept the fucking secret,” Yvie sighed, lacing her fingers through Scarlet’s own. She smiled at Scarlet, showing the little gap in her teeth, and Scarlet felt her heart jump. “Hey, I kind of want to go get chips, cheese and gravy and then head back to the flat and watch the Scooby Doo movie. You down?”

Scarlet smiled. She was kind of over the party. She’d been so eager for a night out, but all she wanted right now was a night in with her girlfriend. “Sounds amazing. Let’s go.”

The two headed back through to the bedroom to grab their jackets and say goodbye to the rest of the girls. Notably absent from the room were Brooke and Vanessa, and Scarlet was about to mention this to Yvie when they walked back out into the hall and spotted a tall, blonde girl and a small brunette kissing furiously in a darker, quieter corner. As Yvie opened the front door, she turned to Scarlet.

“I feel like they won’t be far behind us. Brooke must have sorted her shit out, then.”

As Scarlet grabbed one last look at the two girls against the wall, she desperately hoped Yvie was right.

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